A/N: After decades… fuwafuwafuwafuwa~ (I sound so freakin' high)

Warnings: I'm tired of writing this… just read previous chapters dammit.

Pairings: *deadpans* Methos/The Master… Goddammit, of course not (although that would be interesting). Did I not make myself clear in the socially unacceptable summary?

Disclaimer: Oh shit, look, Pitch Perfect 2!

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

The Ministry was in an uproar.

At least, that was what Percy Weasley can see. Ever since they received an alert of huge amounts of magic being used, in a muggle suburb no less, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement had sent their Aurors to where it was only to come back with stricken and horrified faces, as if they had seen the Dark Mark. And according to them, they did.

That news came in the early morning.

Now, here he was, assisting wherever he can. Not that he believed it, especially with Potter proclaiming the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named when he clearly can't. The monster was dead, even the Minister says so. Though there was a small, tiny niggling part of his head, the one that grew up with his parents, that says that it is true to some degree.

He followed the Minister around, taking note of whatever was being said. All in all, it was stressful, yes, but still the normal work he does. And he was proud to say that he was doing better than his father, or mother. They still followed that Dumbledore around. Can't they see that the man was going against the Ministry? The Ministry that made the foundations of order in the Wizarding World? Everything the Minister did was for the betterment of the Wizarding World.

And what the Minister said was true. So here they are, covering up whatever happened in the muggle suburb called Privet Drive. The Dark Mark was merely a fluke; same as what happened in the Quidditch World Cup. It was going on fine, that is, until Percy saw the list of damages and casualties.

He immediately felt his legs buckle beneath him as his eyes landed on one single name.

Oh, he knew the place was utterly destroyed; the Ministry recorded large amounts of Fiendfyre and the excessive use of the Unforgivables. He just didn't know that all of the casualties were dead. He expected gravely injured muggles exposed to magic, therefore the need for the Obliviation squad. But there was no one to be Obliviated. At all.

He never expected to recognize a name.

William Weasley—Gringotts Curse Breaker (Deceased)

His brother. His brother. If he was informed of this by anyone else, he wouldn't believe it. But his firm belief of the Ministry being honest came crashing down at him.

Everything after that was a haze. He remembered getting up and doing his work mechanically, eyes empty and void until he notices that he was in front of the door into the office of Misuse of Muggle Artefacts. He didn't even realize that he left the side of the Minister. In an attempt to clear his mind, the red-head reached his hand up to the door.

His father. That's right. If anyone had the answer, it would be his father.

Percy opted to open the door instead of knocking. It didn't matter in the end as the office was empty. The disorganized items were stacked haphazardly around the small room. He wove his way around the room, hitting some trinkets here and there but never bothered to arrange it back in his haste to find answers that even he knew the Ministry won't give him.

The red haired young man hastily grabbed a pinch of powder from a jar near the fireplace, stepped into the fire, and threw the powder on the fire.

For the first time in months, Percy Weasley went back to his home, world turned inside out. Surely, Bill would be there to greet him, albeit frostily, and so would the rest of his family. And then everything would be back to normal. Deep in his mind, he knew, somehow, that everything would turn worse.

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

Voldemort stalked through the corridor, ignoring the pleading moans coming from the cells they passed. Standing slightly behind him was Harry, happily conversing with Nagini. The serpentine man can see how the teen was ignoring the Dementors around them, but it was still affecting him.

Sighing, the Dark Lord pulled the teen closer to him.

"Why did you come with me when you know you are uncomfortable with the Dementors?"

"Ah," Harry bit his lip, "Well, who would save your sorry arse when even one of the Dementors go rogue? I am aware that you can pull this off yourself, but I do know the effects of Dementors. And besides, I'm bored and your currently… indisposed minions are, somehow, unable to produce a Patronus. So I guess I'm just here as company."

Voldemort raised a hairless eyebrow, "You are aware that due to the Horcruxes, the Dementors cannot do anything to me?"

"Well, then, I came here with you because I was bored!"

"You just wanted to meet Bellatrix."

Harry pouted, "Oh, sod off."

They walked on in silence; Voldemort can see—feel—how Harry shudders whenever a Dementor comes a bit close so he holds the teen closer, feeling the tenseness of the boy's shoulders. Frankly, the Dark Lord was a bit surprised when the teen can still produce a corporeal Patronus ("I just think of whatever I can that I feel gleeful, namely Tommy. Although I think it is because of him that I have strong reactions to the Dementors."). But then, it was irrelevant since his incompetent minions can't even produce a mist, and Snape was already out of the picture.

Sad to say the new… changes in the Potions Master's mental state affected his ability to think clearly about anything outside potions and violence (that Harry had happily added to his mindset, to which Voldemort just approved for the teen to shut up).

Soon enough, they reached their destination.

"Hello Bellatrix," Voldemort stood before a cell holding three people; Bellatrix, Rodolphus, and Rabastan Lestrange.

The crazed looking witch stared up in awe, her dark eyes wild and dilated.

"My Lord…"

Harry grinned and crouched down to Bellatrix's level, staring straight to her eyes.

Voldemort raised a hairless eyebrow, wondering what was happening between the two. They stared at each other for a while before Bellatrix let out a cackle of delight, Harry just grinning at her, the other occupants of the cell jerking at the sudden sound.

"Wittle Harry Potty's all grown up!" Bellatrix cackled, grasping the teen's wrist, a maniacal glint in her eyes "What would cousin say? Don't worry, Mama Bella's here with you!"

Voldemort withheld a groan. Just what he needed; Harry meeting Bellatrix. And here he thought he would finally have peaceful days. Well, of course not, he's a Dark Lord, who says he can have at least one normal day? Harry on a sugar high was bad enough—he could still remember the amount of damage he needed to repair—but having Bellatrix as well, especially in her state, would become a major cause of head- no, a full on migraine.

Harry sprang up from his position and grinned, easily pulling away from the mad witch's grip, "So what do you say we free all of you?"

The two stared at each other before Harry turned his green and red eyes at him, and when he turned his crimson gaze to the side, Bellatrix had her eyes on him in a pleading gaze.

"Can we use flashy explosions?"

Yes, he really would need to find a way to curb the two's… more explosive deeds.

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

Chattering and whisperings were what greeted Ron and Hermione when they entered the Great Hall for their breakfast. Usually, Ron wouldn't even be coherent but he had been extremely jumpy ever since they found out that Harry was missing.

The two-thirds of the Golden Trio were looking a little worse for wear; Ron's usually big appetite significantly lessened, and Hermione's frizzy hair was even frizzier, the band holding it in place was the only thing that made it possible for her to see. They barely slept, even in Hogwarts, and only the Deputy Headmistress' periodic checking on them forced them to sleep, and the Twins' constant pranks made them keep their heads up.

Dobby, loyal, helpful Dobby, made sure they eat at least twice a day.

At first, they had hope that Harry was only in his rebellious phase and would appear back at Hogwarts, but that was proved wrong when no Harry Potter appeared. Add the fact that the Weasley family was one member less, Ron was miserable and Hermione coming close.

It didn't help that Privet Drive was attacked, but thankfully enough, Harry was not found anywhere there. But then, the Ministry covered up the crap there.

To Ron, the only thing that was positive was that Percy came back to the family. Though the cause was the worse, it was fine, as long as their mum, Mrs. Weasley, at least had another of her sons back. That was what the gangly teen forced himself to believe. Hermione, however, was over her head with worry and something else that she never wants to put a name to; feeling it was bad enough, naming it would only make everything real.

And that was what they didn't want; for everything that happened was real. They were fine pretending that everything—Harry, where's Harry? Bill, help us find him- no, no, Voldemort cannot be—did not happen at all. It was not healthy, yes, but in the end, did it really matter at all? They were close—so, so close to each other.

So until now, the couple—they had been together before all of this—created a barrier thick enough to block anything unwanted, but thin enough to let some people in. Bleak as it is, it all came crushing down this particular morning.

They made a beeline to their usual seat at the Gryffindor table, Dean, Seamus, and Neville greeting them. It went on as the routine they had started; Ron shoveling as much food he wanted, acting as if nothing was changed –when everything was—and Hermione scolding him. Then the owls would swoop down, carrying either mails or the Prophet or Quibbler.

So far, everything was fine, until they read the Prophet.

Mass Breakout from Azkaban

That was all it took to break their small attempt in pretending that everything was fine when it wasn't.

"Ron, I-"

Hermione stood up and ran, unable to take it. She had been ignoring all the stares and whispers, it made anxiousness bubble up in her stomach. She wanted to laugh hysterically as she ran through the corridors, Ron not too far away from her; was this how Harry always felt? The dread, the stress of knowing that they were talking about her? She had been fine ignoring them the first few weeks, everything falling into blurred routine.

"Hermione!"

She stopped in her tracks, allowing Ron to embrace her. She didn't even notice that she was crying again.

"What's wrong?" Ron sounded so, so worried and concerned. He had not seen the article yet, so he was still locked up in that routine.

"Ron, this- I can't continue like this anymore," Hermione buried her face into her other half's neck, "I can't anymore- I- I just want this to-"

Ron tightened his embrace, eyes shut in—what? Anger? Desperation? Sadness? He didn't know.

"I don't like this reality," whispered Ron, "I would have rather been back to before."

"Before all of this? We can't, Ron, we can't continue like this anymore. What would Harry say if he found out that we have been like this? Everything's all-"

"I know- I know, 'Mione. I really want to go back but- yeah, we can't."

They stayed like that for a while, holding each other like a lifeline, afraid that if the other disappeared as well, their world would be destroyed.

"You know, it just made this all the more real."

Ron pulled away slightly, staring at the bushy haired witch in his hold, "What did?"

"The article, Ronald, have you not read it yet?"

Hermione was trying bring back a lighter mood, that, he could see and he cracked a small, sheepish grin.

"No, I can't have, you ran away faster than I could say the Headmaster's full name."

Hermione let out a small giggle, "That isn't saying much."

"Well yeah, I don't even know what's between 'Albus' and 'Dumbledore', so it would take a while. I heard it's long though, enough to only fit only a few more words when they tried to put it in the Chocolate Frog cards in the same size as the others."

The atmosphere did lighten and a comfortable silence descended on the two.

"So what was in it?" asked Ron, breaking the silence.

"In what?"

Ron rolled his eyes, "The article."

"Oh," Hermione blushed lightly, "right, um, wait a second. Accio Daily Prophet."

A copy of the newspaper flew over Hermione's outstretched hands. She handed it over to him, pointing over to the headlines.

Ron's brown eyes flew over the article, eyes widening the further he read. Finally finishing reading, he stared at Hermione, emotions mixing together. There were questions, doubts, statements running through his mind so fast that he didn't understand, and it wasn't positive either.

"Azkaban- but- that's-"

"The most dangerous prison in the Wizarding World, yes. It's also where V-Voldemort's most loyal was thrown into." Ron flinched at the use of the name and Hermione rolled her eyes though she too was a bit pale and looking over her shoulder as if someone would suddenly appear to attack them, "O-Oh come on Ronald, Harry can say his name with a straight face or laughing, if he can, we can and should."

"What are we going to do?"

Hermione bit her lip, "We won't do anything. With Umbridge around and most of the people still believing Harry to be an 'attention seeking liar' despite his worrying absence, we can't do anything. Our options are all limited and all of that ends to either going to help the Order, or being caught by Umbridge."

"Well," Ron scratched his head, "we need to do at least something. We have already wasted a lot of time keeping a routine."

Hermione stepped away from where she was still in Ron's hold and looked around the corridor. Spotting a partially hidden alcove, she pulled Ron with her and hid in the alcove, raising charms to prevent eavesdropping. She crossed her arms and thought.

Ron, noticing that his- Hermione was lost in thought, sat down on the ground and checked the time. It wouldn't do if they were late to their class, especially DADA, which, coincidentally, is their first block. Surprisingly enough, they still have over an hour or so before they were needed. They did leave quite early. Normally, Ron wasn't one to keep up with anything but food and Quidditch, but the—losses—was rather… affecting.

A while later, Hermione let out a frustrated huff, "I can't think of anything!"

Ron tugged Hermione to the ground with him when the witch started pacing, "Have you asked yourself, 'What would Harry do?' that works loads of times."

Hermione stared at him, blinking, "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Because Harry and I always think, 'what would Hermione do?'" Ron grinned, "And that saved our arses more than we thought to count- well, at least that's what I do."

Hermione wasn't listening, however, so Ron was hit by an elbow when the witch jumped up in excitement.

"That's it, Ron!" Hermione smiled at him excitedly, "Harry would oppose the one who is wrong and in this case, that would be Umbridge."

"And what can we do? I'm pretty sure Harry would be stubborn enough to butt heads with a professor as crazy as that bitch."

"Ron, language!" Hermione started to pace, "But, yes, that is correct, however, he would at least try to find a solution to the—lacking—educational system of DADA. So what would he do if Umbridge called him liar and reject anything that he says about Voldemort being back?"

"Uh," Ron scratched his head in confusion, "land himself in detention?"

Hermione stared at him incredulously, Ron shrugged, "What? That's what he would end up doing."

"No, no, no," Hermione shook her head, "What else? Can't you remember that he has his saving people thing?"

"Saving people thing? 'Mione, just get to the point."

Hermione sighed, "What I'm saying is, he would do something that would help the students, whether they believe him or not."

"And what would he do to accomplish that?"

"Teach them of course!"

"T-teach them?" Ron sputtered, "I'm sure he won't be as suicidal to try opposing Umbridge that much."

"Oh but he is, suicidal, that is," Hermione pulled out a roll of parchment from her satchel, "We could organize a study group of sorts to help students in learning Defense. We have enough reputation to not attract those who do not want to learn, and enough to get at least the alliance of those who would rather pass their O.W.L.s than waste time listening to Umbridge. After all, I'm the know-it-all muggleborn that would do anything to pass her O.W.L.s."

Ron merely watched as Hermione scribbled madly on her parchment. "Who would teach them?"

Hermione looked up from her work and stared at Ron, "Us, of course. We should at least do something so maybe when Harry gets back—he'd have to, Ronald—we could make progress on what we could do even without him."

Ron had his doubts about Harry going back, after all, Harry would never miss going to Hogwarts unless anything were to stop him, and even then, he would find a way to go back. He might be pulling from the dark side of his mind where he kept everything bad in—Face it Ronald, Bill's dead, nothing can change that- but I can't—and the statement from Mad-eye shook him up. But he never voiced this to Hermione, knowing that the girl was being optimistic on something, and deep inside, there was also that small hope that was buried inside the paranoia.

Hermione suddenly stopped and rolled up the parchment she was writing on and stuffed everything back into her satchel.

"C'mon Ron, or we'll be late."

Ron stood up and followed her out, wondering how she knew they would be late, but then again, Hermione was always right about these things.

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

"Voldemort!"

Harry barged in the room with a jaunty wave, Nagini trailing behind him. Voldemort glanced up from whatever it was he was doing.

"What do you want now?"

"Aw," Harry pouted, "I come visit and you ask what I want? You make me sound like a demanding brat."

"Harry, you pretty much always ask for or about something whenever you suddenly barge in like that. And you're too chipper for this time of the afternoon. Normally, you would have been napping by this time."

"I do not nap," Harry stuck his tongue out, sitting cross-legged on the floor, "I merely oblige my new instincts of getting rest at this time of the day."

"So you nap."

Harry glared playfully at him as Voldemort smirked over at him. "So what do you want?"

At this, Harry perked up with a grin, "Well, seeing that we would just ignore the prophecy—as it was meant to be, might I add—I was wondering what you would do next."

"And why are you asking?"

"Because I'm bored and Mama Bella and Mama Nagi got along too well and forced me into room arrest when they found out my list got a name short two days ago."

"So that was where you were yesterday…" Voldemort turned amused eyes to the snake curled up near the fire, ::Nagini, how did you manage to lock him in his room for a whole day?::

Nagini's head poked out from her coils, tongue flicking out, ::I didn't let go of him, and that Black assisted in food and such.::

"That was a peaceful day, ::Why didn't you continue it until today?:: Voldemort was smirking over to Harry who was pouting and crossing his arms, looking away from them.

Nagini gave an annoyed glance at Harry, ::He managed to get away from my coils and Black's watch. I recently found him and followed him here.::

Voldemort raised a hairless eyebrow at Harry, "What are you here for? Other than getting away from Bellatrix and Nagini; that was your fault, by the way. How you ever managed to get Bellatrix to look at you as her protégé is beyond me."

"Skill, Voldemort, it takes skill to get her attention. Are you jealous?"

Voldemort scowled as Harry giggled, "Shut up brat."

"Yeah, well, Mama Bella was bored as well as most of your mad minions who we retrieved from that overgrown dark place."

"You left yourself out."

"I'm not bored, I'm just annoyed at how there isn't anything I can do other than annoy you."

Voldemort was silent for a while before he let out a snort and covered it with a cough when Harry glared at him.

"You're grounded, aren't you?"

Harry just continued to glare at him as Voldemort laughed. To the normal Death Eaters, the laugh might have been frightening because the Dark Lord never laughs and when he does, it was mostly followed by large amounts of Cruciatus curse to be given around, but Harry was already used to it and could see that Voldemort really found it amusing, which only caused him to glare harder.

"Mama Bella threatened to finish off my list! My list, Voldy! I want to actually finish that list myself, and it would be highly… angering… And you have no say on that anyway! I know how possessive you are even with your own victims."

"I concede your point."

Harry stared for a while, blowing a stray lock of hair from his face. He frowned when it got on his face again. He repeated his earlier action only for it to land on his face again, poking one eye in the process. Getting fed up, Harry finally removed his messy hair from its braid and tied it in a bun, cursing when the same lock fell. Again.

Voldemort watched, amused, as Harry scowled, grabbed the offending lock and cut it as short as possible only for it to grow back. Cursing to hell and back, Harry finally thought of using his magic to keep it in place. The teen's red and green eyes found Voldemort's crimson eyes and realized something.

"Stop not answering my question!" Harry pouted, "Mama Bella and company would find out anyway. And as I said, we ignore the prophecy; what are we going to do?"

Voldemort chuckled before his face turned serious. Harry shifted into a comfortable position, lying on his stomach with his head propped up by a hand, knowing that he was for a long conversation with the snake-like man.

"You know that the Ministry is out for blood, correct?"

"Yes…"

"They covered up the attack on Privet Drive despite the clear evidences of at least my Death Eaters' presence."

"That isn't something I was not aware of."

"The Minister thought that Dumbledore was working against him, staging that raid, when in reality, Dumbledore's Order was a few members less, along with the DMLE. To have control over Hogwarts, the Ministry- or rather, the Minister sent one of his underlings inside Hogwarts; that is Dolores Umbridge, the senior Undersecretary."

"I would put up the guess that Malfoy senior has something to do with that."

"Indeed. Lucius was the one to suggest that to the Minister."

"So…?"

"That woman has a strange fascination to Cornelius and would gladly overtake Hogwarts, no matter the means. The Minister 'thinks' that Dumbledore is creating an army inside Hogwarts to oppose him, hence the presence of the woman. Cornelius may be a useful puppet but he is too gullible."

"So what you're saying is," Harry flipped himself over so he was lying on his back, "The Minister is too useless so you're going to get rid of him after that Umbridge woman sinks her metaphorical claws in Hogwarts. What about Dumbledore?"

"Dumbledore needs to be taken care of."

"And how would you go about all of that?"

Voldemort smirked, blood red eyes gaining a maniacal glint that showed that the man really is what the monster most of the world believed him to be.

"Why, we attack of course."

Harry's eyes mirrored the Dark Lord's expression.

"Brilliant."

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

"I know all of you are wondering why you are all here," Hermione's voice filtered through the students chatting with each other. They were in an abandoned classroom near the library—if they ever needed it, it was in immediate view. Hermione had, of course, asked for the permission of a professor; Professor Flitwick, to be exact. They were, after all, in the Charms corridor.*

Ron stood beside her, as did Ginny and the twins on either side. Ron and Hermione finally looked their normal selves, save for the darkened bags under their eyes. The twins looked the same as always but if you looked in their eye, you could still see the remnants of grief, but Ginny, Ginny looked like a wreck and only Hermione's and her siblings' help made her look remotely presentable.

"Yeah, what are we doing here?"

Hermione looked at the one who spoke, "Did I ask a question? No? Then don't talk." It sounded snappish even for Hermione but her mood took a nose dive since the start of the year. She cleared her throat at the tense atmosphere in an attempt to break it. "You all are aware of how… incapable Professor Umbridge is, correct?"

There were murmurs of agreement, some preferring to nod, afraid that if they answered too loud, said professor would hear them.

"Yes, well, at the rate things are going, we would not be able to pass our end of term exams, or in the case of fifth and seventh years, O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s, not to mention for actual defense." Hermione took out a roll of parchment from her satchel and scanned over it, "It would also be in our advantage if we were to create a study group of sorts. Aside from defense, we can always prepare for other subjects such as Potions or Transfiguration—theory as well, of course."

"And we are sure that this isn't one of the ruse Potter came up with because…?"

"Smith, shut up, no one needs your quips," snapped Ginny, pointing her wand to the Hufflepuff, "And how can Harry even be involved when he clearly isn't even here?!"

"Little Ginny here—" Fred started.

"Is correct, of course—" George continued.

"How can ickle Harrykins—"

"Be here when—"

"He has been absent—"

"For more than a month?" They finished in unison, staring the ones who seemed to agree with the Hufflepuff down.

"What do you mean 'more than a month'?" It was Cho Chang who spoke, her voice soft, "We are all aware that Harry was not able to make it to Hogwarts… but what do you mean…?"

Ron sighed, eyes darkened, "You lot were not aware of the attack in a muggle place?"

"N-No, not recently…" Cho bit her lip, glancing at the others around the room, all of whom shook their heads.

"Stupid Ministry," Ron sneered, "Just before Hogwarts started, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey was… attacked. Evidence leads to either Death Eaters or Voldemort himself."

There were gasps, but those who stayed true to what the Prophet led them to believe either sneered or glared.

"I knew this was a ploy for you to make us believe You-Know-Who is back!"

"Shut the fuck up you tosspot!" To their surprise, it was Fred and George who snarled, "We won't even use that for this! Our own brother was found dead there! And of course let us not forget that Privet Drive is where Harry Potter lives!"

"Wh-what?"

"Marietta…?" Cho looked at her friend in question, eyes wide.

"I- mum works for the Ministry," Mariette started shakily, skin parchment white, "And she did say something about an attack where they found every single one of the residents dead… along with two of our very own. It- I didn't know that one of them was a Weasley…"

Silence reigned as the students digested the information.

"The other was Hestia Jones…" whispered Hermione, tucking her hair behind her ear, "Tell me, have you also heard of the disappearance of two Aurors?"

"I-" Marietta started, shock still apparent in her voice but willing to answer, "Yes, Nymphadora Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt… I think…"

Hermione smiled grimly and let the silence settle again.

"The Ministry seem to be infested by Nargles and Moon Frogs… why would they have mistletoes anyway?" Luna Lovegood's dreamy voice washed over them, snapping the silence, "I thought Cornelius Fudge only has an army of Heliopaths…"

"No he doesn't, Luna," sighed Hermione, "Nargles, Moon Frogs, and Heliopaths don't exist."

"They do, daddy says so," replied Luna breezily, "besides, they thought Stubby Boardman killed 12 muggles."

Fred cleared his throat, "So!" He clapped his hand to gather their attention, "Shouldn't we be talking about that study group Hermione was talking about?"

Hermione grimaced, "Yes, right, from today on, anyone who wants to join this Study group can come here every Monday and Thursday after the feast and Saturday after lunch. Don't worry about being caught, I have the permission of Professor Flitwick and Madame Pince for the use of this classroom and the Library."

"You can seek help to anyone in the group during these sessions. Here's a list for those who we are sure can help," Ron levitated pieces of parchment to each student, "Fred and George can give assistance to Potions and Charms, 'Mione to Runes, Arithmancy, and Transfiguration, mine's Defense and Care, Ginny's Defense and anywhere she can assist, and also Neville who can help in Herbology."

Neville shyly voiced his concern, "Isn't this room a bit too… small for its purposes?"

"This is the largest room we could find with the permission of Professor Flitwick."

"Um," Neville shifted uncomfortably as most turned to look at him, "I may know a place where we can… study."

Ron smiled encouragingly at him, "Where is it mate?"

"Umm…" Neville was hesitant but sighed, "I found it when I was thinking of what I forgot… I think it was called the Room of Requirement. It becomes any room you want it to be as long as you thought of it."

Hermione thought for a while before nodding, "We can use that room for the more explosive… messy things we do. We still have a Professor's permission to form a study group so we should be fine if Umbridge pitches a fit."

"That might actually rile her up more, mate." Seamus crossed his arms, "Never mind that Harry isn't here." There was a questioning glint in his eyes, asking whether he was fine or not.

"We know, at least, that he's not dead."

"I would hope he is not, Ms. Granger," A jovial voice interrupted. All of them turned to see the Headmaster, eyes twinkling brightly and looking better than the past few months, "after all, he is currently with Madam Pomfrey. Quite a dramatic return, I must say."

:::…~~~-0-~~~…:::

I have seriously read better fanfics…this ranks just above those fics that have mangled-beyond-recognition grammar, and directly below those with glitched grammar. At least those with mangled-beyond-recognition grammar has more interesting plots.

I'm highly expecting to finish this in two or three more chapters… please, please let me finish this…

*I referred to the game in PS2