Harry Potter and the Chains that Bind

by patrick mcclellan

6th year. Time magic. New teachers. Causality. Year 6 replacement. I continue JKR's characterization, and that means Harry is not a god, no one cuts themselves, there is no implied harem, there is no Mary Sue, Dumbledore/the Weasleys aren't actually evil. If you've read it, go ahead and write me a summary, if this isn't good enough.

21. Chapter 21 The Magic of Cups and Balls

Chapter 21 - The Magic of Cups and Balls

"Recordatio," Harry muttered. He once again spun into Lily Potter's memories, and was immediately struck by how much more vivid this seemed than the last time he'd used her pendant. He wondered if having two memories stored in the one necklace made that much of a difference.

Harry gazed around in bewilderment. He was in a tower he didn't recognize, one with dark wood pillars holding up the roof, and a low partition running in a circle around the room, creating a sort of room within a room. Five men were in the middle of the tower, and one look out the windows revealed that it was a cloudless night. One he recognized by the blond hair and sharp face; Pettigrew. The rest he didn't know. Harry knew that since this was his mother's memory, she had to be somewhere nearby, and he looked for her. It took him quite a while to find her, because the disillusionment charm she had cast on herself was very good, and in the dim tower she was hardly visible. Certainly no one who wasn't actually looking for her could have known she was there.

The huddle had broken up when Harry wasn't paying attention and Pettigrew wandered over to a solid beam that was almost directly opposite them. He casually started burning something into the wood with his wand. Harry looked in vain for Snape, but the potions master was not in attendance. A large boy with a mane of jet black hair crossed his massive arms.

"You sure you have things straightened out then, Pennygrew?"

"It's Pettigrew," Peter said. At the sound of his voice, Harry bristled.

"It doesn't matter," the larger boy replied. "All you need to know is that life can get very difficult if you don't make the right decisions. So difficult, you might not do it. Know what I mean?"

"We should have brought Snape up here," the thin, weedy looking boy by the stairs said. He too was disillusioned, though the charm hadn't been done nearly as well. While his outline was a bit vague, he wouldn't be hidden from anyone for very long. He'd have to be their look-out then.

"No chance, Nott," the big boy said casually. "He graduates this year, and he already has far too much favor banked with far too many people. Pennygrew here is going to be our insurance package, aren't you?"

Pettigrew nodded, but it was slow, as if he didn't understand what the colossal youth was talking about. "It's 'Pettigrew.' P-E-T-T-" he tried once again.

"Whatever. When Snape gets out of here, he'll be in with the right people already. We have to prove ourselves, and you're going to prove yourself by becoming our inside man, aren't you?" He cracked his knuckles, and Pettigrew hastily nodded again.

"Of course! Of course!" His long blonde hair was drenched in sweat, and flopped feebly.

"And we're going to prove ourselves worthy by giving him Potter and Black."

"What about Lupin?"

"What about him, Avery? We both know he's too soft to be a real inconvenience...he'll probably be the first one to die. Potter and Black are already a thorn in the Dark Lord's side...and we have to let that thorn work its way in deeper. You hear me? No letting them get the better of you...that's how they work...goad you and goad you until something explodes. Let me tell you that if it's one on one, it'll probably be you exploding, especially if it's Black. He may be a blood traitor, but he was a Black, and I know he didn't grow up without learning the very best curses."

Something clicked inside of Harry. That youth looked enough like Sirius to be his brother. It was painful to realize that he could be looking at Regulus Black. He couldn't know until someone called him by name.

"We have to turn them over when they are worth the most to us." The black-haired boy paused looking at Pettigrew. "All of us."

"Wormtail?" a voice drifted up from the stairway below. "Wormtail, you sneaky bastard! I know what you're up to! Put your pants back on....I'm coming up!" There was a rapid series of thumps on the stairwell, and Nott just barely had time to dive to the side, behind a thick column.

"Potter!" hissed Nott from his hideout.

The boy-who-might-have-been-Regulus turned to Pettigrew. "Play along!" murmured the large boy. He reached way back, and timing his swing perfectly, he connected with Peter Pettigrew just as James crested the last stairs.

Pettigrew, who had been punched solidly on the jaw, dropped soundlessly, wand still moving, as if he was trying to cast a spell. James Potter uttered an incoherent scream and rushed into the tower, firing off a brilliant stream of multi-colored light. Harry wanted to shout, he even raised his wand, but of course he couldn't do anything in a memory. Lily had her wand out, but she was still crouched behind the wooden ring that ran around the wall. As if it was happening in slow motion, Nott stepped from behind his pillar, leveled his wand, and stunned James Potter, who had never even seen him. In an instant, the wary Death-Eaters-in-training were on him, kicking and punching. Lily was still remaining stealthy.

"Why don't you do anything?" Harry shouted to a mother who would never hear him. Then suddenly, mercifully, it was over. Peter was clinging at Avery's leg, begging them to stop, tears running down his chubby face.

"We'll stop," said the husky youth, holding an arm up that seemed to send a powerful message to the others. "But if you tell him anything..." he trailed his wand tip across his neck, where it left a streak that looked very much like blood. With a final laugh, the boys clumped down the stairs as if they were simply heading back to class.

Harry had to look on the grisly scene for a good two minutes, until Lily Potter slowly crept to the stairs and made her way down, waving her wand in a peculiar pattern. Harry realized she was silencing as she went. Harry stood at the bottom of the stairs with Lily for at least five minutes, until finally Wormtail made it to the stairs. He was carrying James with one arm wrapped around his slumping shoulders. James Potter looked more unconscious than conscious, shuffling his feet weakly and moaning.

"I'll kill them all...Avery I saw; and Rosier..."

"Care to explain that, Peter?" Lily asked, leveling her wand.

Peter's beady eyes were still misty. "They jumped me! James tried..."

"Save it! I know everything that was said up there. You'd better have a good excuse, and it better be made out of dragonhide and be an inch thick." Lily poked Pettigrew, who was now close enough to touch, with the tip of her wand. Peter flinched every time the wooden tip brushed his skin. It broke Harry's heart to know that he now possessed that wand. It had been taken from the hand that should have held it by the very man he was looking at now. Peter hadn't reached out and taken it, but he'd done just as much when he gave her up to Voldemort...she'd been just as helpless as if he had.

Pettigrew squinted and actually smiled at Lily. "It's perfect...don't you see?"

"You'd better explain 'perfect', because I don't think you're using the same word I know."

"They don't respect me," he said. It sounded whiney, but almost triumphant at the same time. "They think I'm a nobody! You know what kind of people James and Sirius are...I can't be like that! I'm not brave like them..."

"You can't be like that because you're a sniveling rat." She didn't know how right she was.

"I am!" Pettigrew agreed. "That's what makes me perfect! Don't you see?" Lily hadn't shot him yet, so she must have been considering it. Pettigrew continued. "Who better to spy on them, Lily? Think of the team we could make...Potter, Black, Lupin, Evans, and Pettigrew!"

"So you're trying to tell me you're going to pretend to spy on us so you can spy on them? And you expect me to believe that?"

"You know it makes sense!" Lily held the wand up for a long time; long enough for Pettigrew to sag against the wall. James wasn't all that large, but he was bigger than Pettigrew.

"It does," she finally admitted. Harry was screaming obscenities at the memory. "So how does letting them beat James nearly to death make sense?"

"I cast a cushioning charm on him. They aren't just for broomsticks."

"He doesn't even know where he is!"

"Confunded! I knew they'd only hurt him worse if he talked to them..." Lily actually smiled a little.

"You know, they would have, too." She raised her wand.

"Especially if he talked to him like he talks to me," Pettigrew murmured.

Lily nodded slowly.

"Wait!" Pettigrew pleaded. "Don't end it until I'm gone! You know how the Death Eaters are! Snape could cook up a truth potion in a heartbeat... It could be the best potion in the world and if James doesn't know it won't matter... He can't be a danger to us or him." Pettigrew struggled with James. "You go to the third floor stairs... I'll take him down two halls, where you'd come out from the Owlry... Do you know what I mean?"

Lily hesitated and then nodded. Harry was getting hoarse from shouting, but he wasn't going to stop. Some part of his was hoping that maybe, just maybe his voice would make it through the years.

"I'll end the enchantments when we get there...then I'll send him down to you," Peter continued.

She nodded. Pettigrew had sensed the hesitation that meant she'd believed him. The man spent twenty years pretending to be a common pet rat. Lying was second nature to him. Harry had to painfully agree with Snape yet again... Peter was very adept at playing both sides. Lily was walking away...even going so far as to put her wand in her pocket. As she walked down the stairs to the third floor, the memory faded.

For just a bit, Harry stood there in the storage room, surrounded by dusty desks and wobbly chairs. The enormity of what he'd just seen was still sinking in. For several moments he stared at the small lump of clay in his hand, and then with a shout, he hurled it at the wall. It clattered around the room. Harry completely snapped then, turning to the nearest pile of desks and flailing wildly. He punched it until his hands were numb, but that didn't happen until there was searing pain that radiated all the way to his elbows.

When he could no longer make a fist, he kicked the furniture until he couldn't stand on his own. There was a roaring noise, and when it finally ebbed a bit he realized that the sound was his echoing voice. Hermione was trying valiantly to restrain him, with both arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders. Harry dragged her across the floor until his surge of adrenaline-enhanced strength waned and he fell to his knees.

"She knew...she knew all along!" He shouted in a half-sob.

"She didn't," Hermione said reassuringly. She was whispering in his ear, trying to calm him down. "I think that's why she kept it."

"How could she not?" He said, staring at the ground. The ball had rolled back to him and he was gazing at it though eyes that were clouded with tears of rage and pain. With a start, he noticed that there were another pair of feet in front of him. He looked up, and Ron was standing over them, half in and half out of shadows.

"Don't talk to me," Ron said. "Just tell me you're okay."

Harry knelt on the ground for another five minutes, snuffling and crying, and not even bothering to try to hide it. When at last he looked up again, Ron was still standing there. Harry didn't trust himself enough to speak, so he simply nodded. With strong hands, Ron grabbed him beneath the arms and lifted him to his feet. Harry balanced unsteadily on ruined feet...he was sure that his shoes were the only thing holding his toes on. They all felt broken.

Ron wrapped his arm around his shoulder and walked with him while managing to not look at him or talk to him. Hermione followed behind while wringing her hands. It seemed to take a lifetime to reach the infirmary, and when they got there, Ron set Harry down on a bed, and stood outside the door awkwardly.

"For...what is going on, Potter? Why do I see you so much?"

"He fell down the stairs, ma'am," Hermione said smoothly.

"I see." The keen-eyed nurse glanced at his hands. "And I suppose they were whispering rude things about your mother on the way down, so you felt the need to...rough them up a little?" she said in her terse way. The numbness was gone now, and his entire body was in agony. "This will only take a few hours, Potter. You won't have to stay here tonight."

The next two hours were as excruciating as he had ever spent...even more so than when he had gone into the lake. Harry didn't care though...he wanted to ache. It gave him something else to think about.

His mother had known all along. She had known that Wormtail was in with the Death Eaters since before she had left school. She had even caught him in the act, and he'd managed to weasel his way out of it. Harry had to admit that he was even cleverer than he'd given the man credit for, and he couldn't even blame his mother. If that was him and Neville had said that same thing, would he have given it much more thought? And even worse, Neville wasn't fast enough to think of a cushioning charm and a confundus charm. Those alone made Pettigrew seem like he really was trying to do something good and spy on Voldemort.

"Slimy rat!" he said at last, breaking the silence. Ron had gone back to the common room without talking to him, but Hermione was still there. She looked up with tired eyes. She was nervously toying with her own necklace.

"That filthy bastard!" His voice bounced off the marble floor and reverberated from the brick walls. "We have to do something!"

"I don't think there's anything we can do," Hermione said weakly. She flinched under Harry's intent gaze. "Everyone knows he's a Death Eater now. Your mum is dead, your dad...Sirius..." She leaned her head on Harry's shoulder. "That has to be why she saved it. She didn't know for sure if he was telling the truth or not...she wanted proof in case it came to that." She hugged Harry tightly, and he hugged her back. Women were the furthest thing from his mind; and Hermione was certainly one of his oldest and best friends. If he was going to cry, it was going to be to someone who had been there through it all with him.

"He killed them, Hermione! He killed them and that was when he did it..." Harry was no longer interested in knowing the details of his parents' last moments. That was the moment that they had been destroyed...when they had been killed, it had been with a smile, and it had been one of their true friends that had delivered them. Hermione remained still for a long time, her bushy hair wet with Harry's tears. Harry finally had enough, and sucked in a long, wheezing breath. It took him several tries to stop it.

"What do you want to do, Harry?"

"I want to go back to the common room. I just want this all to be over...the war...Voldemort...all of it."

"I do too, Harry. We all do."

"Will it ever end?" he asked, looking at Hermione.

"No...no. I don't believe it will. Voldemort may be defeated, but there will always be more. There's no shortage of evil in the world, Harry." Harry stood up carefully, shifting from one foot to the other. They were still tender. His hands hurt too, but rather than the exquisite pain he had been in before, he was left with the sort of dull ache that too much time outside in the cold brought on...a stiffness, a thrumming, radiating sort of twinge that seemed to keep time with his heart and felt like ice in his bones.

"Hold on," Hermione said. She raised her wand and cast a spell at him, which was quickly followed by another. Harry looked at her questioningly.

"Cosmetic charms; just a...touch up." Harry understood. He didn't want the whole common room to know he'd been crying for most of the last two hours.

"Thank you, Hermione," he said evenly. She nodded once, and started down the path to the fat lady's portrait.

When Harry stepped through the common room entrance, it was not to any fanfare. No one noticed him enter, for the most part. Neville was practicing cutting potion ingredients with a large silver knife, and his fingers were covered with bandages. The Creevey brothers were playing chess, Katie was talking to a red-faced Seamus, and various other students were throughout the room, absorbed in their daily routines. Ron was sitting on a lounge, which Harry approached wordlessly. Ron didn't look up at him.

"I just wanted to say thanks," Harry said quietly, hoping that he would at least get the satisfaction of a response. He did, but it wasn't the one he was looking for. Instead, Ron slammed his book closed, stood up, and walked out of the room. Parvati was looking at him from the chair she was sharing with Lavender. She struggled to her feet, which involved moving Lavender's leg, and smoothed her robes. Even though Harry could have honestly called the last three hours some of the worst in his life, he couldn't deny that it looked good and that he was hoping she would come talk to him. He didn't have to wait long.

After far too much smoothing to make him comfortable, she walked towards him and Hermione. "Harry," she said, amicably.

"Parvati."

"Hermione." Hermione nodded.

"It appears as though a sofa has just opened up..." she remarked. A fourth year shot around her and plunged into the plush scarlet cushions. He looked at Parvati complacently. "Sit there and I turn you into a blowfish!" she threatened waving her wand in his face. Hermione, who might have objected some other night, simply looked away. The fourth year slunk away, muttering. Parvati extended an arm as if to say "after you."

Harry slowly sat and she plopped down next to him and leaned up against him. He buried his face in her flowing hair. One thing that had always struck him about her was how well she smelled... He always seemed to be next to intoxicated on her various perfumes and scents. Tonight was no different, and she smelled like chocolate, cinnamon, and various other spices that didn't immediately occur to him. He could lose himself here, and that's what he planned to do. It was just like Walken and their stupid causality cloak...the impact was there, but in the end it was a memory; nothing but a memory. If Parvati was right, and everything was cyclical, then it would be the opportunities that arose again and nothing more. Something Walken said to them occurred to him, and he spoke softly, into the back of Parvati's head.

"What's done is done; you can't un-set the sun."

"What?" Parvati said, leaning back into his face.

"Nothing," Harry answered. He inhaled through his nose. "This feels good. Do you mind if we just...don't move for a while?"

"I don't mind, Harry, but when we are allowed to leave the school, you're going to owe me one serious date."

"I...can do that." He managed. He really didn't want to move. He didn't know what to say to Parvati, so he kept his mouth shut. He got himself in far more trouble when he spoke anyway. With some derisiveness, he noticed that the list of Chocolate Frog Cards that people wanted to buy, sell, or trade was twenty inches long. If Ron made a half-galleon off each one, he was sitting okay; at least until he was no longer the exclusive provider for the whole school. Harry didn't want to think about that. Who cared about Ron anyway?

Their causality cloaks had caught up with them by Monday. Ron, Hermione, and Harry all had all added each other, and it was no surprise that they affected each other tremendously. Hermione and Harry both had a giant jag in their lines...Ron's was smaller, but still sizable. By far, the biggest surprise to Harry was his mother's line, which still bumped against his occasionally. It left him wondering how his mother could possibly be that big a part of his life when she'd been dead for 15 years. That was only mildly more interesting than Parvati. He hadn't told any one who the extra line represented, and he'd found that she hadn't thrown his line to the side, as was the prevailing trend. Rather, it seemed to make his line straighter and reduce the number of jitters. He made a note of it, so he could ask Parvati about it later. She was into divination of every type; if anyone could find an explanation, she could. What's more, she made just enough sense with it to make him wonder.

In potions the next day, Harry was on a mission. He had the Collibri that Arthur Weasley had given him, and he planned on using it to store his potion. Let Malfoy try to hex it then...or anyone, for that matter. He was still behind; it would be Thursday, or more likely Tuesday before he could taste it again, but he could keep this from happening again.

On the way out, he sidled up to Hermione.

"Do you still have that thing?"

"Thing?" Hermione said, squinting.

"That ball," Harry said. "The one with the memory."

Hermione fixed her eyes on at him suspiciously. "Why?"

"Professor Lup...Remus needs to see it. They were his friends, too."

Hermione nodded silently and reached into her bag. When she pulled her hand out, the small whitish ball came with it. He'd cracked it down the middle when he'd hurled it against the bricks, and both that and the number were clearly visible. Harry never wanted to see that memory again, but Lupin had to know... It wouldn't be fair to keep something like that to himself. During Defense Against the Dark Arts, Harry took his time composing the letter he would send to Remus. He had the special book that Hermione had made for him...the Auror's texts already had the counter-curses he needed to know and he'd even studied them a little...he wasn't missing anything. He fought with the words that he wanted to send the last of the marauders.

Dear Professor. He crossed that last bit out.

Dear Professor Remus. That was better. For the better part of two hours he struggled with writing down the right words. It wasn't easy, and it wasn't something he wanted to do, but he had to, so he gutted it out. When he was finally done with the letter, more than half of it was crossed out and rewritten. He rewrote the letter so that it wasn't so haphazard-looking, and when he got time, he securely tied the envelope containing the ball and letter to Hedwig's leg.

"This is very important," he told his owl. She looked at him as though she was saying that everything she did was important. He lifted his arm, and she disappeared through the window in a cloud of feathers.

That night, Harry was sitting on his bed with the bottle of fire that Hermione had given him held loosely in his grasp and the two-way mirror in his lap. He was staring at the fire and absent-mindedly shuffling his Wizarding cards in his left hand. He glanced down at them. The portraits were brought to a weird kind of life in the shifting gloom. All because of them, Ron wouldn't talk to him. It shouldn't bother him as much as it did. The letters on his mirror were glowing blue. He snatched up the looking glass.

"Friend," he said impatiently. Remus must not have been expecting Harry to answer so quickly, because he was still sitting down and getting situated. He looked up after a few moments.

"Ah, hello, Harry."

"Hullo," Harry said simply.

"Your house is well. I hear you and Ron created new wards, and that you created a Sigil. Nice on that...I knew you were up to it." Harry shrugged.

"What's that in your hand?" Remus nodded.

"Hermione gave it to me. It's...to help clear my head."

"I see. That must be useful...to clear your head."

Harry nodded mutely. Remus held out his hand, in which a small, grey ball with a crack down the middle was nestled.

"I have my own. Also Miss Granger's work, if I'm not mistaken. It seems as if we're a pair tonight." Harry nodded again, and his eyes were drawn back to the flame. It danced invitingly in its bottle.

Let me out, Harry. Just for a little while. I'll be good. I promise. The flame didn't have the voice of any one he knew, which was nice. He didn't exactly want to hear Draco Malfoy or Ron tonight.

I'm sure you'd be as good as you could be, he replied in his head. A snake can't stop being a snake. Remus ended Harry's mental segue.

"I'm not going to waste a lot of time Harry. I'm busy, and you're busy... Tell me; have you used this--looked at this--whatever one does with it?"

"Yes." Harry nodded.

"And you really think that I should see it?"

"I think so, yes."

"You know, I don't want this to come off wrong, but I've put Pettigrew behind me. And James. And Lily...don't even get me started on Lily." Remus stared at the ball in his palm, running his thumb along the crack. "I don't know that I can handle seeing them all at once."

"Look," Harry said. "I don't know if I ever want to see it again. I'm the one who put that crack in it...but I had to see it; just that once." Harry trailed off as he spoke.

Lupin sighed. "How do I activate it?"

Later on, Harry had put the mirror in his chest and was staring at the Wizarding cards that had come from the Chocolate Frogs the Weasley twins had given him at the beginning of the year. He really wasn't thinking about anything, other than some hazy thoughts about Parvati and a distant contemplation of what it was that Ron was thinking tonight. The wizards on the cards seemed to shift and almost come to life in the twinkling violet light.

Life wasn't fair, and perhaps the most unfair part about it was that so much of it depended on decisions that other people made. He was still tied to what his mother had done, either in the memories he'd seen, or in the ones he'd only heard about. Walken would give them the causality cloaks soon; they were due to start the tempus sinus charm Monday, and he'd have a reminder of just how much the other threads in his life affected him. He was just a victim, a casualty. Balfour Bane, the wizard who happened to be on the top of his deck, winked at him in the firelight. Harry forgot why he was famous, and flipped the card over. Bane had created a seventeenth century law about charms.

"At least you're not on that cloak," he murmured softly. "Though if you were, I'm sure I'd see where you bumped up against me someplace."

That Saturday, he was sitting at lunch with Parvati. He had explained the cloak to her, and since they had finished with them in class the day before, she'd gotten a chance to look at it. She gazed at it a long time, and had been thinking about it all night and day. Harry was rubbing his ears, which he was thinking were frostbitten, thanks to Quidditch practice in the icy cold; on account of Katie's slave driving tendencies.

Natalie had loaned him one of her personal brooms; an old Cleansweep 5 that seemed to vibrate to the touch. She had very obviously done something to it, and it had the distinct feeling that it was just below the level that would cause it to burst in the middle of a turn. It didn't handle nearly as well as his, and he was always on guard for a wide-turn that would take him into the stands, another player, or the ground. He had a feeling that this is how the motorbike would feel, when he finally got good enough to run it.

"I think," Parvati said, pausing to take a drink of water. "I think that it's really quite clear. I just don't mean enough to impact your life. I mean, look at Ron and Hermione, or even your mum. Meanwhile I'm-" Harry interrupted her. He'd actually been thinking the same thing, but he hadn't forgotten the night in the common room when he had created the bubble.

"Maybe you're someone who calms me down. I mean, that's what I asked for in the beginning...someone who wouldn't try to change me, someone who wasn't grabby. I really need that, more than anything." Parvati looked lost in concentration, but slightly more comfortable as she sipped her water, which she preferred to pumpkin juice. Harry found that she had an aversion...it was a story she hadn't told him yet. Regardless, she wouldn't drink it unless she had no other choice.

"Clingy," Parvati corrected.

From the other side of him, Ginny grabbed his leg. "I rather expect you enjoy the grabby part of it." Since it was under the table, no one else saw it, which relieved Harry. The last thing that Parvati needed to think right now was that he had something going on with Ginny. She was already contemplating how unimportant she seemed to him. It had been a mistake to show her the cloak. Meanwhile, Ginny looked as though she knew exactly what she had done when Harry's heart had come close to exploding. It was unfair when a girl you weren't dating grabbed your leg while you were sitting next to your girlfriend...it was downright criminal when that girl was Ginny Weasley. Harry knew how she felt about him, at least some time in the past, and had no way of knowing what she thought about him now. It didn't help that she was so ruddy gorgeous.

Harry was saved by the arrival of an unlikely visitor; Draco Malfoy. He swaggered to the table with a full goblet in his hand, and arrogant look on his pointy but aristocratic face.

"Beat it, Malfoy," Ron warned. His eyes flashed dangerously and Draco sneered. He suddenly seemed to notice Connor, who was sitting directly across from Ginny. Before anyone could stop him, he leaned over the table, and whispered something in the American's face. Harry blanched; after everything Connor and Draco had been through throughout the year, there was no way Connor would let Malfoy slide. His suspicions proved correct when Connor suddenly grabbed Malfoy by the neck and proceeded to choke him slowly but very forcefully. At the same moment, Ron grabbed Malfoy by the robes and hauled back on him, cursing the whole time.

"Get off my sister you filthy little rodent! I'll bounce your arse off three walls! I'll-"

"Ron!" Hermione grabbed Ron around the waist and was attempting to pull him away from Malfoy. Down the table, Seamus, Dean, and both Creeveys had leapt to their feet, along with most of the Gryffindors who were close enough to have an idea of what was going on. This was fortunate, because it largely shielded the situation from the curious eyes of the rest of the students in great hall, who had started to take notice of the commotion.

Though he didn't really want to get involved, Harry felt that it was his duty to support Ron, even if Ron wasn't talking to him, and grabbed Malfoy's robes, tugging on them along with his friend. Ginny was simply trying to get away from Malfoy, who in all fairness never appeared to have any interest in her to begin with. Connor seemed to think it was his duty to do Malfoy in, and Draco was starting to go from his normal pale whitish to a delicate shade of blue.

"What is the meaning of this?" a furious voice snapped. Connor immediately released Malfoy with a frighteningly innocent look on his face, causing Harry and Ron to fling him backwards into the Creeveys, who managed to stay on their feet, though Draco wasn't as lucky.

"Don't try to fool me, Colier! I saw what you were doing!" Professor McGonagall looked furious. Her lips were a nearly invisible line, and her eyes burned behind her square spectacles.

"That's…that's right," Malfoy gasped, rubbing the ring around his throat as he rose shakily to his feet. "They attacked me with no provocation! Wait till-"

"Shut up Malfoy," McGonagall snapped. "You were born guilty! As if you came over here just to chat! Colier, Malfoy, detention, both of you, and fifty points will be deducted from each of your houses. You should be ashamed of yourselves; fighting like common rabble! I will not tolerate this sort of behavior from anyone; be they a Gryffindor or not!" She turned her glowering eyes on Malfoy, who actually appeared to shrink a little. "Mister Malfoy, I suggest you go back to your own table and stay there, or next time I may take a bit longer to break things up!"

Malfoy indignantly snatched his goblet from the table and stormed off towards the Slytherin table, trying to push Dean and Seamus out of his way. Neither would have it, and Draco ended up sprawled on the ground again. His face colored as he tried to keep his rage in check, and since he was already blue from having been throttled nearly to the point of unconsciousness, it turned his cheeks a light purple. He sprung to his feet and rushed around the crowd, back to the group of sneering Slytherins. Crabbe and Goyle had stood immediately when they saw what was happening to Malfoy, but neither had moved to help him, and Harry suspected they were going to get a good earful as soon as Draco was within griping distance.

Everyone around them was roaring with laughter, but something was sitting wrong with Harry. McGonagall had said it herself; Malfoy didn't come over just to chat, so what was it he wanted?

A hand on his shoulder startled him from his thoughts. "And what is going on here?" Some of the laughing and cheers immediately ceased as Snape glided in front of them. Harry shook the professor's hand from his shoulder with some revulsion.

"Nothing, Severus," Professor McGonagall barked. "I have it under control."

"It didn't appear to me that things where under control when Mister Malfoy was being choked or tossed to the ground."

"Mister Malfoy is in your house, and therefore your responsibility. I'm perfectly willing to answer for what Mister Finnegan and Mister Thomas may or may not have done. Do you really want to answer for Draco today?" Harry held his breath. Professor McGonagall had not hesitated when putting Dolores Umbridge in her place last year, and her sharp tongue wasn't just limited to foul and corrupt bureaucrats. Snape sucked in a quick breath, and Harry momentarily wished he was somewhere else.

"And what about Mister Colier?" Snape actually hissed when he said 'mister', and Harry saw something in Professor McGonagall's eyes that reminded him very strongly of Dumbledore.

"It was apparent to me, and it would have been apparent to you, Severus, had you been here to witness the ordeal; Mister Colier and Mister Malfoy were both at fault, which is why they were both punished. Do you have a problem with that?" She spoke very slowly, and Harry couldn't imagine anyone being foolish enough to risk the wrath that she was barely containing.

"What about Potter?" Snape said; his voice even quieter so those around them may not have even heard it at all. "I have a hard time believing he wasn't involved."

"Then don't believe it!" Professor McGonagall snapped. "In fact, Mister Potter and Mister Weasley were trying desperately to break the two up, so I'm glad you mentioned them. Potter, Weasley, you're awarded five points each for trying to end this…altercation before someone was seriously injured. Next time try to remember that you're wizards, and there are better ways to do it than stretching Mister Malfoy's neck."

At that Snape wheeled on his heels and nearly fled from the great hall. Harry could almost feel the anger radiating from the Potions master. He thought again for a moment about what could possibly be wrong, and the crowd around them disbursed. As she passed, McGonagall paused to glare at him sternly, and in her square-framed spectacles, he saw the reflection of Ginny Weasley as she raised her goblet to her lips.

"Stop!" Harry dove for the cup and snatched it from Ginny's hands with the speed of a natural-born seeker. Some of the juice sloshed over the edges and splashed onto her already abused jumper, and she favored Harry with a stunned look that harbored more than a bit of malice.

"Harry," she whined, shaking her fiery tresses. "What's wrong with you?"

"Mister Potter!" McGonagall was apparently still right behind him, but at the moment, he didn't care.

"Did you drink any of this?"

"What?"

"Ginny, listen to me, this is very important: Did you drink anything from this goblet?"

"Yes!" She had gone from looking annoyed to looking frightened, and now Ron was gazing at Harry as well, while occasionally glancing at his sister with a concerned look plastered all over his face. Hermione was watching silently, trying to figure out what Harry was getting at. All over the rest of the Hall, the students were returning to their meals, and even at the Gryffindor table Seamus and Dean had returned to their seats, along with nearly everyone who'd crowded around during the brief scuffle.

"Professor," Harry said, turning to face Professor McGonagall, "I know why Malfoy was over here; he was trying to poison Ginny!"

"That is a very serious allegation Mister Potter, one that shouldn't be made lightly."

"Look," Harry said, pointing at the bottom of the goblet, where a small green band encircled the base. "This came from the Slytherin table."

"It's not uncommon for these types of things to get misplaced, Mister Potter, all it takes is for a student to visit a friend at a different table..." Harry didn't wait for her to finish.

"With all due respect, Professor, how many Slytherins would you say are waiting to visit with us, roughly? This juice is still cold!" Professor McGonagall pursed her thin lips even tighter, and finally reached a decision.

"Miss Granger, take Miss Weasley to the hospital wing immediately. Mister Potter, come with me. Mister Weasley, take a message to Professor Snape; tell him his presence is requested in the Headmaster's office, make sure he knows we need him to identify a potential poison." Professor McGonagall stopped Ron as he turned to go. "One more thing, Mister Weasley, do you see Mister Malfoy in the great hall?"

Ron was taller than nearly every Hogwarts student, and he had a good view all around. He and Harry searched the rows of heads for the blond, nearly white hair and pointed, violet face of Draco Malfoy, but both agreed that he was no longer in attendance. Professor McGonagall glanced at the doors to the hall with a clever look in her eyes. "If Mister Malfoy is guilty, he may not know that his ruse has failed. Do try to remain somewhat unobtrusive?"

"Uh, certainly, professor," Ron agreed.

Several minutes later, Harry and Professor McGonagall were standing before Professor Dumbledore as the headmaster paced his office. Harry had just finished telling his story, and it was obvious from the look on Professor Dumbledore's face that he was very troubled indeed.

"I must admit I'm not entirely surprised," Professor Dumbledore said at last, stopping in front of this desk. "This is, of course, assuming Mister Malfoy is guilty, which isn't proper, as much as it seems self-evident." Harry thought he had done very well in controlling his temper to this point, but he was very close to losing it now. A noise behind him momentarily diverted his attention, and he turned to see Snape creeping in with several bottles in his hands.

"What is he doing here," Snape said, glaring at Harry balefully.

"Mister Potter is the one that noticed the discrepancy, Severus. I think it would be in his best interest to know the outcome, for better or worse." Snape made no reply, but simply arrayed the potions in a line on the headmaster's desk. "After all, he will either need to be more vigilant or less interested the next time around, will he not?"

"This is a Juxtaposition Potion," Snape drawled instead of answering Dumbledore's question. He pointed at the first bottle, which was clear. "When mixed with a known-good control," Snape indicated the second vial, which appeared to contain pumpkin juice, "it can indicate whether a specific sample is…impure. I've drawn this control from a pitcher on the Gryffindor table." He lightly shook the pumpkin juice and unstopped both it and the phial of clear liquid, and then carefully tapped a few drops of the control into the clear potion, which turned a brilliant blue.

"Now," Snape continued, "we'll give it at least a minute to properly adjust, after which we will mix the sample; the alleged poison. If the potion turns green, the two are identical. If it turns red, they are not."

The next minute was one of the longest Harry had ever endured. McGonagall and Snape pointedly tried to ignore each other, while Dumbledore looked as unhappy as Harry had ever seen him. His blue eyes smoldered, and along the walls some of the portraits were frowning or shaking their heads. After a near eternity, Snape unstopped the Juxtaposition Potion once again, and tapped in a few drops from the goblet Harry had taken from Ginny, which was still half-full.

The potion immediately turned a dazzling red. Headmaster Dumbledore unfolded his hands and rose, leaning on his desk. "Well, then, Severus. Do you suppose you could have a look at what is actually in that goblet?"

"I will do so immediately, Headmaster," Snape said acerbically, casting a sealing charm on the goblet.

When he glared balefully around the room, Harry held his gaze, and pointedly cleared his mind as well as he could, except for his complete disgust for Malfoy. He was quite hoping Snape would pick up on that. The potions master stormed out, and Dumbledore paused in front of his desk, staring at the small vial filled with bright red liquid. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed both Harry and Professor McGonagall.

"Professor," Harry asked as they were descending the gargoyle's stairs, "what's going to happen to Malfoy?"

Ron said nothing, walking in silence with a look on his face that said he was deep in thought.

Professor McGonagall glanced at Harry from the corner of her eye, and her normally severe expression softened.

"Please don't ask me that, Mister Potter."

"Why?"

After a long pause, Professor McGonagall stopped and put a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Harry, I need you to trust me. I must ask you first and foremost, before I say another word; do you trust me?"

"Of course, professor!"

"I mean it," she replied.

"So do I…I really trust you."

"Harry, you have to understand that right now we can't prove Malfoy guilty of anything…"

"So he's going to get off!" Harry exploded, yanking his hand away from Professor McGonagall. "I knew that twit would get off...That arrogant little bastard! He-"

"Harry!" The momentary kindness was gone from her voice. "Listen, for once! We can't prove him guilty of anything, though between the three of us, we all know he's up to his ears in trouble. What you need to do now is mind your business...very carefully mind it. That was very clever of you to spot the goblet from the Slytherin table, but next time there could be no such clue." McGonagall had walked Ron and Harry all the way to the Gryffindor common room. "Not a word of this, either of you. And whatever is going on between you, get over it! Now is not the time for petty squabbles!" She pushed them both through the portrait hole so fast and hard that Harry nearly fell over.