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.

34. Chapter 34 A Pretty Good Spell

34 - A Pretty Good Spell

Dumbledore's gaze passed over the sea of students in the great hall, seeming to land on each one and linger for a moment before moving on. Since the Slytherins had been silenced, there was no noise, either, so it was an uncomfortable several moments.

"As your Headmaster, it is natural for me to believe that you are all shining examples of your houses; brave, loyal, clever, or ambitious. It is natural for me to want to see the good in you; most of you are good. Perhaps deep down," Dumbledore paused. "Very deep down, but you are good none-the-less.

"Over the last week, three students have been attacked in this castle -this sanctuary- a place where you are supposed to be free of the tribulations of the world outside." He banged his hand on his podium to emphasize what he was saying. Some students actually flinched.

"And now, I have no choice but to believe that one of you, or even a group, is suffering from a lapse in judgment. This is to my great personal regret. You may be brave, loyal, clever, or ambitious, but you are most assuredly overly so, and deep down, whatever your intentions, you have gone bad along the way.

"This shall serve as your notice: Within two days' time you will no longer be a student at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and you will almost assuredly be standing before the Ministry.

"I am not without faith in you all. Forgiveness comes to those who ask for it; so should you choose to ask, I will listen. Understand, however, that things have progressed beyond mere forgiveness alone. You will atone for what you have done.

"To those students who have been terrorized, who feel unsafe in their own beds, know that this behavior will not be tolerated at Hogwarts; not now, and not ever.

"I deeply regret that it was necessary to take your valuable time." The headmaster turned abruptly away, and immediately, the hall was filled with anxious whispers.

Harry turned to Ron. "He said three." Ron was looking around the great hall.

"That's the latest."

It was Parvati who leaned in from across the table. She was fiddling with her SkyBall. "I hear Draco Malfoy was found in a hole at the base of one of the towers this morning, and he was badly cursed."

"No, no," Lavender said. "He was crying and babbling, they said."

"He wasn't either," Ginny added. "I talked to Dobby early this morning in the kitchen. Some of the house elves got summoned to help move him to the infirmary."

"Did they say why?" Dean asked.

"They just said his arms and legs were all bendy, like he had broken them," she added. She made a point of looking at Lavender and Parvati. "You can't tell anyone where you heard that. The house elves could really get in trouble!" Both of the resident gossips tried to look innocent. They both failed; more or less.

Harry had bigger concerns than Parvati, however, and he was sure Hermione did too, because she uncharacteristically dropped the subject. When lunch was over, she wandered outside towards Hagrid's hut. Harry and Ron naturally followed her. She walked over to the Pingaling and rested on it, examining some of the spots and trying unsuccessfully to scourgify a few. Harry stared at his own bike. He didn't know what kept the other students at Hogwarts busy, but he was really getting tired of how he seemed to wind up in the middle of so much.

"Dumbledore has to be protecting Connor. Or Neville. Or both." Harry shrugged. "Come on, Harry, don't be daft. Do you think it's coincidence that you and Neville are attacked in a hallway, and the night after you both return, Malfoy gets...whatever he got? This is Dumbledore." Harry shrugged again.

"I don't even know that it was Malfoy," Harry said. Only he did. In fact, something in his mind said that he had known since he had seen the interview with Connor. Now that he thought about it, Neville had probably known all along, since Connor had been interviewed under the influence of Veritaserum. He knew of only two wizards who transfigured into rats, and Wormtail wasn't exactly a "take them on" type. He wasn't white either. Harry sat on his own bike. "So...what then?"

"I don't really know," Hermione admitted. "I mean, I can't prove anything." She absentmindedly turned the hand throttle on the Pingaling. "Maybe he should go talk to Dumbledore?"

Harry stared at her. "You've gone mad while I was away."

"Well, you heard the Headmaster! I think he was saying that he knows who it was, but he can't help unless whoever it was comes to him. Maybe he wants to help! What if he knows that Draco attacked you? I'm not saying it's right, but with Neville...at least it's understandable."

"Hold on," Ron said, finally. "Are you saying Malfoy was somehow involved with carving up Neville's face?"

Hermione glared at Ron. "Welcome to Hogwarts, Weasley."

"Well, he deserves what he got, then," Ron announced, matter-of-factly.

"We don't ever know what he got," Hermione sighed.

Harry threw up his arms. "What do you want me to do about it, Hermione? I'm glad that rat-bastard finally got what he had coming. He's been earning it since he came here!"

"I already told you. I don't think Dumbledore can help Connor unless he asks for it."

"So what about Neville? Malfoy carves a rune into his face and Connor's the one who gets punished?"

Hermione rubbed at an imaginary dust spot on the flat black gas tank. "Dumbledore's human, he'll understand."

"And if he doesn't?"

"If Connor or Neville did it, they'll still need Dumbledore's help; even if it's just to stay out of Azkaban."

"So...why are you talking to me?"

"You're his friend!" she almost yelled. "Out of everyone here, he trusts you the most!"

"He trusts Neville the most."

"Yep," Ron nodded. Hermione rubbed at another non-existent spot.

Harry drew a rat in the air with glittering sparks. With a vicious jab, he scattered the glimmering image. "So have this talk with Neville, then. Leave me out of it."

Finally she looked up. "I'm not entirely convinced Neville wasn't involved."

"So? What if Neville did it?" Ron stood in front of the black bike, staring down. "That is, if anyone did. For all we know the weaselly ponce jumped. He probably did Harry and Neville, and felt guilty."

"I doubt he's felt guilty about anything a day in his life," she said. "That only happens if you've done something you know is wrong." She looked up at Harry. "And if Neville was...involved...I can't imaging he'd be too quick to snitch. Can you just promise you'll mention it?"

"I'll mention it," Harry sighed. Hermione visibly relaxed. "Honestly, if Draco did do this...he deserved it. If only for Neville."

Hermione rose and kicked at the ground. She was silent. Finally she looked up. "That's the reason you need to talk to them. They don't deserve to be punished as bad as I think they will be, if they don't get Dumbledore's help." When she put it that way, what could Harry do?

It was Ron's turn to play with the throttle on the bike. "Hey, Harry?" Harry looked up wordlessly. "Feel up to a ride?"

Connor and Neville were both in the dormitory when Harry returned. Harry fully intended to say something, but he lost his nerve at the end, especially when Neville looked up. That damned scarred face was just unsettling.

Midway through charms the next day, Harry worked up the nerve to at least broach the subject. Ron actually helped him out.

"What d'you think happened to Malfoy?"

"He hit the ground," Connor said. "I bet if he wouldn't have hit the ground, he'd be fine today." Neville smiled weakly.

"Dumbledore seemed like he wanted to help whoever did it," Harry said casually.

"He hasn't been in a hurry to help us so far," Neville said, flicking his wand at the candle they were charming so it would stay lit for a very long time. Not forever...that kind of thing was tricky...but very long was doable. He had a point, Harry thought.

Hermione cleared her throat, and they all stared at her. Finally she pursed her lips tightly and waved her wand in a complicated way, muttering under her breath.

"What are you doing?" Connor asked.

"Privacy! Harry!"

Harry certainly did not want to get into this. He was still a little...afraid would have been the wrong word, but concerned would work okay...concerned about Connor. He also wasn't convinced that someone had simply pushed Draco. Draco was aggravating, evil, pretentious, and a perpetual pain in the collective Hogwarts backside. Draco had also made it six years without appreciably changing his ways. It wouldn't be giving the little rodent any undue respect to say that he had quite adequate survival instincts.

Most of all, if it really was Draco who attacked them in the hallway -and it was very hard to believe that it could have been anyone else, now that he had seen Connor admit their opponent had transfigured into a rat- a not insubstantial part of him had decided that Draco deserved what he got, however it happened.

"Harry!" Hermione hissed.

"Fine." He turned to Connor. "Did you do this?"

"Do...you really want to know?"

Harry thought about that. "No. No I don't."

When Hermione gave another exasperated gasp, Ron took over. "Look, mate, if you did, that ruddy pillock deserved it, I say. But think it over, see? Dumbledore is a smart guy. Twisted, yeah, sure; but he knows the score. If it was me -if I did it- I wouldn't feel bad at all, but you can bet I'd go see the Headmaster, and soon, because if you walk in and tell him what you did, and why, he's gonna try to see things your way, right? Well you saw the governors...wankers, the lot of them. And maybe Lucius started off this year in chains, but he has a load of galleons." Ron sighed. "They make people forget faster than charms do."

"So...you think I should turn myself in?"

"We didn't say that," Hermione added quickly. "We just talked it over, and we'd rather have Dumbledore helping you, than trying to catch you. If you did it."

Neville glared at her. "Why is it you're so concerned about someone getting caught now? You had all week while Harry and I were in the hospital."

"No one knew!" Hermione squeaked.

"They thought it was me," Connor said. Neville stared at him, his mouth slightly agape.

"That doesn't even make sense! You're my best mate!"

"I'm...the stranger. Malfoy's had five years to do this, and he never did."

"You're defending them!" Neville was turning funny colors. "It's mad!"

"I'm not defending them," Connor sighed. "I'm just...look...maybe...just maybe they're right. I can be pretty amazing, but I hear your jails here are a...bummer."

"And you think Dumbledore can do a damned thing for you?" Neville looked very menacing indeed, as now most of the color had faded from his face, and his scar was a livid, angry crimson.

"He has been all year. Well, him and Walken."

"Walken?" Ron asked.

Connor looked at Ron sideways. "He's the one who brought me over from America. It's how I got away from Altasia the first time."

"Altasia?" Hermione was looking at him curiously now.

"After I'm gone, ask Harry about the tiger." He glanced at Hermione. "Don't you think you should drop the charm?"

"No, she should bloody well not!"

"Nev, chill out. I'm thinking."

Neville glared at Connor for most of the class, and when they stepped from the charms classroom into the hallway, he pulled the big American roughly aside.

"Forget it," he whispered.

"Excuse me, Mister Colier?" Dumbledore's voice echoed down the hallway. Harry, Neville, Connor, Ron, and Hermione all paused. Dumbledore paused. "I would like a word with Mister Colier, alone, if you please."

"I think you need to talk to me, as well," Neville announced.

"Do I?" Dumbledore looked to Connor.

"No. You only need a word with me. And Granger."

"Why me?" she asked, eyes widening.

Connor ignored the question and walked confidently towards Dumbledore.

"Hang on!" Ron started. "If she goes..."

Dumbledore raised his hand. "You've nothing to worry about, Mister Weasley; Miss Granger is in my hands. She possesses a skill which we may need."

"Oh," Hermione said. "That." She sighed. "Should I run gather some, then?"

"Please," the headmaster nodded.

Harry was thoroughly lost. Neville was almost fuming by now. "I'm not going anywhere!"

Connor stopped and walked back. Neville stared at him. "Just trust me, man."

Neville only shook his head, and as they turned to go back to the common room before lunch, Harry saw clearly how enraged Neville was. He was actually shaking.

Through lunch, through Temporalism, and through Muggle Studies, Harry wondered about what was happening with Connor. After class, he hurried back to the common room, but there was still no word. He did take the precaution of warning Neville and Ron to watch what they said around Natalie MacDonald.

He didn't have to worry about Neville...Neville refused to leave the dormitory. Even when they left to eat for the evening, Neville refused. Parvati asked Harry where he was, and Lavender asked everyone, but Neville had told the Gryffindor boys he was feeling piqued, so there wasn't much to say. When they asked where Connor was, Harry didn't even try to make something up. Hermione showed up about halfway through the meal. Ron instinctively scooted over, and she unceremoniously sat and took a piece of chicken and some rice, as though she hadn't missed half a meal.

"Hold on!" Parvati said, leaning over Harry. Harry was going to complain, but it actually felt pretty good. Hermione looked up innocently. "You're just going to sit down...without even a pardon me? Where have you been?"

"I don't see how it's any of your business!"

It wasn't, but that had never stopped Parvati in the past. "It is when everyone else is gone, as well!"

Hermione looked around. "Well, I think I saw Connor by the infirmary, and as much as he and Neville carry on, how is it surprising if he's ill, too?"

"Why were you in the hospital wing?"

"Well, what chapter am I?"

"What?" Parvati blinked her large, green eyes. She had both hands on Harry's leg so she didn't fall over, and Harry didn't mind a bit.

"Well, you're writing a book, right? That must be why you want all the details."

Parvati leaned back where she belonged, though Harry didn't really want her to.

When Harry returned to the dormitory, Neville was still lying in bed, and he didn't appear to want to carry on in any kind of meaningful conversation. Harry wandered over to his bed, checked for the proper sigils on some of his things, then slumped onto the bed. He stared at the bottle that had the potion he'd gotten from his botched attempt...the one that made his head feel better. He could really use some of that, but he had no way of knowing how it would interact with the other potions he had taken recently.

Instead, he fingered the Chansonarc idly and stared at random things throughout the room. For a while, he considered going to the common room, but he knew that it would be a struggle, so he stayed where he was. Much later, he noticed his mirror was flashing. He held it up.

"Professor Lupin!"

"Remus, Harry."

"Remus then. How are you?"

"Honestly, Harry, that's my question to you. My sources in Hogwarts tell me that you've vanished the last few days."

"I uh...decided that perhaps asking to be released early was a poor choice. I slept in the hospital wing." With some surprise, Harry noticed that the mirror was again flashing blue. That had never happened before. "Remus...can I talk to you in a few moments. Something just came up."

"Of course you may. I'll be waiting, Harry." He nodded and faded from view, and a few moments later, the only face Harry was looking into was his own. A second later, Dumbledore appeared in the mirror.

"Ah, Mister Potter. How are you feeling?" Harry shrugged. "Are you well enough to meet me in my office?"

"Uh...yeah. I guess."

"Let me remind you it is now after curfew. You will need to be escorted by a prefect. I suggest Miss Granger, if you can find her?"

"I...I can do that. Should I bring anyone? Neville maybe?"

"Please do not. I will explain when you get here."

Harry struggled to his feet, placing the Chansonarc and mirror on his bed. Neville didn't even look at him. Hermione was sitting at a table in the common room, surrounded by books and arguing with Ron about something. The stopped as Harry appeared.

"Harry," she said sweetly.

"Yeah...uh...Dumbledore called me to his office. I need a prefect escort. He...uh...recommended you."

"Oh he did, did he?" Ron said. "What am I? Chopped liver?"

"Ron..." Hermione started.

"No! Why do I get left out? I'm a prefect, and I'm going!"

"I don't even know why he's sent for me, Ron," Harry began. "For all I know, Connor may have pointed the finger at us."

"I doubt that," Hermione said. Harry did too. Connor had been a mass of questions, but he hadn't ever been one to point the finger. Simply not answering questions was far more his style. "I think he said that you should find me because I know what's going on. A little."

"How do you know?" Ron asked suspiciously.

"I can't discuss it, Ron."

"Don't you trust me?"

"It's not a matter of trust! It's just..."

"That bloody unstable American asks for Hermione, you ask for Hermione! I-"

"Enough!" Harry said, slapping the table. Most of the common room looked at him. "Piss off!" he shouted, waving one hand dismissively in their direction. He turned fully to Ron and Hermione. "I don't care which one of you goes with me. It's after curfew and I need to get to Dumbledore's office. One of you needs to take me, before I find another prefect."

"We'll both go!" Ron rose.

"Ron-" Hermione started.

"Fine," Harry said. "Let's go."

Ron and Hermione led the way to the Headmaster's office in awkward silence. As they rode the stairs up, Harry busied himself wishing that he'd come alone. He hadn't seen anyone in the hallways. It would have been a good deal less aggravating than arguing with Ron and Hermione in the common room and then dealing with having to drag them both along. Maybe he had gotten more patient this year, but not by that much. He knocked hesitantly on the closed door.

"Enter."

Harry opened the door. Connor looked over his shoulder at them, and Dumbledore peered around Connor. "Mister Potter. Miss Granger. Ah...Mister Weasley. Well, I see you are well-escorted."

"Harry," Connor nodded.

Dumbledore glanced at him, almost off-handedly. "Harry, I'm afraid I must ask something of you that may be unpleasant to you, and you have every right to refuse." Harry remained silent, and Dumbledore turned back to Connor. "Mister Colier, could you hand me your wand?" Connor moved, but it was a barely perceptible tensing of his muscles, and no more. Dumbledore nodded, as he gently lifted the wand from Connor's pocket. He examined it for a moment, and then handed it to Harry.

Connor made the faintest noise.

Dumbledore silenced him with one raised hand. "The less you say now, the better, Mister Colier." He noticed Harry staring at Connor's wand, then back at Connor. "Yes. An excellent spell for restraint; at least for the humans among us." He turned to Harry again. "I asked for your assistance tonight only because of how well you performed during the capture of the escaped prisoner in your third year. I need the three of you to be as diligent with Mister Colier as you were with the last guest. Our governors have chosen to remain in Hogsmead, so it will take me a bit to fetch them, and a bit longer to discuss my conversation with Mister Colier and return...I'd say at least thirty minutes. Maybe longer, but surely no less. When I return, they shall question you," he poked Connor lightly. "They will doubtlessly find you guilty of the incident with Mister Malfoy and likely of that with Harry and Neville as well." He turned to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "I need you three to pack Mister Colier's things...It is probable they will be leaving Hogwarts soon. Can I count on you?"

Ron was staring like an idiot, but Harry and Hermione glanced at each other.

"I think you can, Headmaster," Harry said.

"I'm glad we understand each other." He strode by them and rode the stairs down, while Hermione patted her side, then examined Connor.

"You heard him," Ron said.

"Don't be foolish," Hermione replied, as she prodded Connor with her wand. "Sirius was the last prisoner...we helped him escape in our third year. It's obvious that's what Dumbledore wants now. Finite Incantatum!"

Connor seemed to relax slightly. "I still can't move," he said. Harry could see the veins standing out on his neck.

"He told us to pack Connor's things. Are you mental?" Ron was still standing motionless.

"And I'd tell you to do it," Hermione replied angrily. "Only you can't even pack your own. If you want to go back, then go back!" She tried to end the spell holding Connor several more times.

"You need to leave me. You're going to get in trouble."

"Transfigure yourself," Harry advised.

"I can't move. I'll be stuck however I come out."

"Dumbledore said this spell was great on humans. Sometimes, you just have to go with it and trust him, however much you hate it."

Connor closed his eyes. The transformation was slow; very slow, but after several long moments, a giant cat stood in front of them, balanced on his hind legs. He dropped to the floor in slow motion, gradually moving faster as the spell broke or wore off. Hermione leapt back, and Connor turned to the door. Ron was still motionless.

"Look, Ron, if you want to go back, fine. Just...stay out of our way." Harry was rarely that short with his friend, but honestly, how thick could one wizard be?

"No," Ron finally said. "No, what do you need me to do?"

"Come with me," Harry said. "Hermione, do you think you and Connor can make it to Hagrid's hut?"

"Hagrid's- are you certain about that, Harry?"

"Hagrid likes Connor. He's been to Azkaban; I think he'd rather help us than see Connor go there. Perhaps we can get a thestral, or something, since he can't fly a broom."

Connor transfigured, and Harry returned his wand. "There are only two things I need," he said, running his fingers through his hair. "First my potions...without those, I'm dead meat."

"And the second?" Ron asked.

Connor looked at Harry. "Remember what you saw the first day?" Harry remembered. He had been anxious about Connor cutting him to bits. "My trunk has a false bottom. That's in the bottom, along with some Muggle cash and a picture or two. Can you get those? Leave the rest. I just want out of here."

Harry nodded and looked at his watch. "You two get going. Ron and I will meet you in fifteen minutes." He rushed from the room, and Ron had the good sense to follow.

When they got back to the dormitory, Neville was still lying in bed, staring balefully at Harry. "What are you doing?" he asked, as Ron and Harry went straight to Connor's chest.

"No time, mate," Ron said. He'd more or less fallen into line. More than anything else, he, Harry, and Hermione had been friends for a long time, and if the two of them were in agreement, it was very reasonable for Ron to go along for the ride. It's what Harry would do, and he knew it's what Hermione would do as well. "Just gonna have to trust us. D'you trust us, Nev?"

"No."

"Well, start," Ron replied tersely. "Your mate needs our help." Ron slipped the bandolier of potions over his head. Neville was on his feet now.

"What?"

By now, Ron had the entire chest emptied onto Connor's bed. Hermione may have been right, Ron may have been lousy at packing, but he was a true miracle worker when it came to unpacking. "Accio false bottom!" The bottom of the trunk popped out and up to Ron, who caught it smoothly.

What Harry had thought was a knife the first time he had ever met Connor was actually a wand, identical in shape to Connor's, but a dull silver in color, and if Harry was correct, slightly longer as well. When he lifted it out, it felt very odd in his hand. He also grabbed the thick stack of green bills, and the single photograph, which was in a small, coppery frame. It was a normal picture, which was to say it didn't move, of a witch neither plain nor beautiful, but squarely in the area of pretty.

She had a very respectable smile and a rebellious gleam in her eye, and she almost appeared to be mocking the camera. Harry stuffed that picture in a pocket with the cash -maybe it would pad it- and the wand in another, being careful to put it in handle-down, so it wouldn't poke a hole in his pocket. Neville grabbed a bundle of leather near the top of Ron's pile. When he and Ron fled the common room, Neville was following them. Harry was not surprised.

When they arrived at Hagrid's hut, Harry knocked on the door hesitantly. His body ached as much as it ever had; even more than when he had gone through the ice on his Thunderbolt. The door opened a crack. Hagrid peeked out, saw Harry, and looked over his head.

"'Ello Harry. Ron. Is that...Neville Longbottom?"

"It's okay," came a faint voice from behind Hagrid. "He's okay."

Hagrid let them enter, then shut the door quickly. The lights were very dim and Harry noticed that the curtains facing the path up to the castle's front doors were cracked, so the lane was visible. He couldn't see any stars, and it was very dark out. He turned to the table and pulled Connor's things from his pocket.

"Why didn't you just shrink the trunk?" Hermione cocked her head to the side ad examined the photograph of the girl. Connor was looking at it as well, and stroking the wand lightly.

"Didn't think of it."

"It's too late now," Hermione replied. "They'll be along any minute." She turned to Connor, who was now holding the photograph.

He talked softly to the smiling, unmoving witch. "What happened...?" He was staring at the photograph, and he looked momentarily lost.

Harry wished he knew. "We've got to get you to the woods while we still can."

Connor took his bandolier of potions from Ron and coat from Neville. "Doesn't matter. I tried to tell you. As soon as I hit the woods, Altasia will tear me apart. I'm a dead man."

"I'll go with you," Neville said resolutely. Hagrid glanced at him, and seemed to notice the scars on his face for the first time.

He spoke slowly, while still looking at Neville. "No. If he's that dangerous, you lot better stay here. I'll go." He nodded at Fang, who was lying under a chair. "I know Fang don't look like much, but he can really get ornery, if he has to. And that works fine...as good as any spell." He peered out the window, then back to Connor. "Is your tiger bolt-proof, then?" Connor shook his head, and Hagrid took his huge crossbow down from its spot on the wall. He braced it against his foot and began winding back the string.

Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He did occlumency to the best of his ability, and it sort of worked. He heard the door squeak open.

"Wait," he said. All motion around him stopped. "Take it."

"Take what?" Hermione said, fastening her coat. Despite Hagrid's command, everyone in the cottage appeared to be ready for a trip to the forbidden forest.

"The bike. Take it."

"Harry-" Connor started.

"Just do it, before I change my mind. You'll never get out of here without it."

Rom spoke from his side. "Harry, are you-"

"No," he cut Ron off. "But I don't need one or more of us killed trying to get him out of here. I'd rather lose a motorbike I don't really need than one of you. Only hurry up. They could be back any minute."

The all filed out to the bikes, where Connor rolled the black one out as far as he dared, and checked the petrol and oil. Harry took the bag from the front of his and put it on the Pingaling, and then he stuffed the Muggle cash into it. There was enough that it didn't want to fit at first, and he had to force it. Connor straddled the bike uneasily, while the others surrounded him. Neville had borrowed a piece of parchment and Hermione's Quill, and was scratching away. Ron was acting as a lookout, and Connor was tucking a rag over the bike's headlamp.

"Here they come!" Ron hissed. They were all silent while the small group of men made their way to the castle. After they walked through the door, Neville shoved the rolled up scrap of parchment at Connor.

"That's to my friend Consera, in Spain. If you can make it to her, she can probably help you."

They shook hands. "I'm sorry, man," Connor said.

"I'm not," Neville replied. He looked back to the castle. "Is he going to his office or the Gryffindor tower?"

"His office," Hermione, Harry, and Connor all answered and once.

"Reckon he's at least halfway there by now. You better go."

Connor slapped Neville on the back, hugged Hermione, and shook Harry's hand. Ron refused to even look at him. He tickled the bike and kicked the starter, and immediately the distinctive noise that gave the bike its name echoed in the supernaturally still night air.

Harry felt a wave of cold sink over him, and looked back to see a transparent Hermione. "We have to get back to the Castle, now, Harry. When they find him gone, they will come looking for him. If they find us gone as well..." she trailed off.

"Well, get going then! Look sharp!" Hagrid pushed Ron towards the castle. Ron stumbled, but started running, and Hermione hit him with a disallusionment charm at the same moment as Harry cast one at the sprinting Neville Longbottom. They crashed into the castle and dashed towards the Gryffindor common room. When they were near the top of the stairs by the portrait of the fat lady, a voice rang out.

"You there! Stop!" They all turned to see the Minister of Magic himself. He was pointing a wand hesitantly. Dumbledore reached over and pushed his arm down. "They are students, Minister."

"Students who are in the halls after curfew," Lucius Malfoy said in an oily voice. "As governors we have-"

Neville cut him off. "Sir, thank goodness I found you. I think someone has done something with Connor!"

Dumbledore looked improbably surprised. Leave it to Neville to hand him something he hasn't thought of beforehand, Harry thought. "Indeed? And why would you say that?"

"His things...they've been upset, as if someone has gone through them, and he hasn't been seen all day!"

"Well," replied the headmaster, "I did see him today. I left him in my office. I was interviewing him."

"Interviewing?" Neville scrunched up his face. Harry had to hand it to him; he hoped someone was willing to cause this much trouble for him.

Lucius Malfoy strode forward arrogantly and peered at Neville's face. "I hope you realize that you are protecting the very wizard who did...that." He ran his wand along Neville's scar.

"He had nothing to do with this!" Neville spat back. Something banged behind the adults, and they all turned, raising their wands.

"Lumos," Dumbledore whispered. The hallway was bathed in light, but there was nothing in it. Harry took this opportunity to kick Neville in the leg.

By the time Malfoy turned back to him, he was ready. "And how do you know who attacked you? Perhaps you should be naming names, so the guilty can be brought to justice."

"Well," Neville replied slowly, "It was a wizard who could turn into a rat. Do you happen to know any?"

Malfoy scowled and turned away. "That poor excuse for a wizard nearly killed my son."

"Actually," Dumbledore dug in one pocket. He looked almost child-like in the dim hallway. When he extended one hand, Harry's heart sunk a little. No more of those, ever, he thought. Fudge, Lucius, and the rest of the governor's looked at the unremarkable clay ball that was nestled in the Headmaster's long, thin palm. "His testimony indicated that he caught young Mister Malfoy flying a broom at night..." He looked at the four students, who were still disallusioned. "Ah. You may go. Thank you for drawing this to my attention. I feel that Mister Colier was not abducted, but I also feel that he is no longer in the castle. I too saw his trunk, and it appears he left with great haste. I fear he assumed he was in more trouble than he was. Academics aside, I know that in his old home, he was somewhat...adept at remaining out-of-site. I do wonder if we shall find him any time soon. It has been many years since I hunted anything, but I believe the proper term is gone to ground."

"We have aurors," Fudge said. "Our best at returning fugitives works here...keeps me well-apprised." Fudge actually smiled at that last bit.

"There are none finer," Dumbledore agreed. "And far be it from me to tell you how to do your job..."

"But?" Fudge knew Dumbledore well.

"But without criminal charges, the public may view this as a waste of ministry resources. Unfairly; of course. Personally, I'm certain you wouldn't waste resources."

"He's a lost boy. I'd be a hero," Fudge insisted.

"Again, it pains me to correct you, but in fact, Mister Colier is no longer an under-aged wizard. He is an adult. A young one, to be certain, but..."

Fudge threw his hands in the air. "Yes, whatever, Dumbledore."

Dumbledore turned to Harry again. "Do get some sleep. I hear you've been sleeping well, and that is something we must continue."

Harry nodded. That was Dumbledore-speak for "Go away." He turned away from the headmaster.

Neville wasn't done. "Mister Malfoy?" Lucius turned, astounded Neville would bother talking to him on purpose. "It something did happen to your son, that's too bad. No one's son should be beaten, or..." he gulped hard. "Or carved on. Regardless of who did it or why." Lucius couldn't bring himself to actually thank Neville, so he just nodded. Neville continued, "but rest assured, sir: Someone always catches them...and they always get what they deserve, in the end." Harry didn't know whether to cheer or faint from exhaustion, and he steered Neville to the painting over the entryway to the common room.