Chapter 2 - Precious time wasted

"Professor?" Harry asked politely, during the next Defence lesson. They were still practising silent casting in class and most did quite terribly with it. Well, except for Hermione, naturally.

Snape Sneered - just as naturally. "Twenty five points from Gryffindor for disturbing my lesson," he announced.

"Can't a student ask a question in class, Professor?" Harry insisted, much more politely than he was inclined to.

"Twenty five points more for your cheek, Mr Potter," came the predictable reply.

Harry, however, was not deterred. Neither did he care much for those points. "Is there a connection between Occlumency and silent casting?"

Predictably once more, Snape sneered and ignored the question entirely.

"Probably means 'yes'," Harry whispered to Hermione, who, in turn, silenced him with a silent spell. She, on her part, did care for Gryffindor point standing.

"There we go," Hermione announced and opened the door which appeared on the wall in front of them. Inside was a version of the Room of Requirements which Harry had never seen before. 'Had never called before' is probably a better description given the room's attributes.

"Look at all this rubbish!" he exclaims.

"Mostly rubbish, but there are some interesting things here to find, if one takes the time to look all this through," Hermione mostly agreed. "I've found a working Pensieve in here. It should be easy to set up and equip a couple of Potion-making stations," she added.

"Easier than in Myrtle's bathroom," Harry smirked.

It took them both about half an hour to get their working area set.

"Let us start with the first Potion of the year?" Hermione offered. "Draught of Living Death should normally take an hour and a half to an hour and three-quarters, when done right. You managed a perfect brew in a tad under an hour," she added with a bit of a grudge still in her tone of voice.

For a while, they work in a comfortable camaraderie, each one preparing his own version of the potion. Hermione, being her meticulous self, took careful care to note each of the variations in the brewing process, the difference it made, and the impact it had on the potion.

"We will need to brew a third version of this potion to see if Sopophorous bean's differ only in quantity, or if there's also a difference in potency," Hermione remarked softly at the right moment.

"Shame Ron isn't here to brew it with us then," Harry smirked. They had located Ron in the common room before heading to the Room. He was mostly hidden from view by Lavender, who was sitting in his lap. It took some effort for them to get his attention. This attention was immediately lost, as soon as the word 'Potions' was used in context within a sentence.

"I wonder if those variations repeat on other Potions, later on," Harry remarked, when he reached the stirring stage.

"And if it has the same effects there," Hermione agreed absent-mindedly.

At this stage, Harry's Potion was finished and as perfect as it turned out in class. Hermione, not trying to rush through the process, still had about half an hour of brewing in front of her.

"How do you do it?" Harry asked, since he had nothing to do but to look at her working. "Casting silently," he clarified.

Hermione just shrugged, while brewing.

"I can't do it," he went on complaining. "Best I've managed is to whisper the Spell, or 'shout' it out in my mind."

"It's about concentration," she answered. "Your mind must be focused on the intended Spell only."

"Being able to clear your mind probably helps," Harry complained to himself and made Hermione smirk just a little. "You try and learn something from that plonker!" he replied. She certainly didn't have a good answer and still had some fifteen minutes of brewing in front of her.

"Sirius!" Harry called into the mirror. "How can I learn some Occlumency?" he asked his godfather after the pleasantries were handled.

Sirius scratched his head. "Most Purebloods teach their children," he answered, and Harry looked at him with hope. "Sorry, my mind is too addled after all these years in Azkaban. I can ask Bill Weasley for you? Ask the Longbottom lad!" he offered.

Harry mumbled his thanks in disappointment.

"How's school?" Sirius asked in an effort to improve his godson's mood. He earned a groan for his efforts.

"Dumbledore keeps inviting me to his office, to waste more of my time; We have heaps of work; Snape ruins my preferred class for me; and on top of it all - I need to go around and evade Slughorn all day long, to stop him from collecting me," Harry complained.

This made Sirius laugh out loud. "Tried to 'collect' me as well, till he discovered that the 'great Black family' won't speak with me. Didn't care much about your father, but your mum and Snape, of all people, were his favourites!" Sirius enjoyed telling of good old times. "Drove you dear father barmy. They were both staying together after class all the time, running experimentations, and writing those comments all over their Potions books."

Harry looked at the mirror with huge eyes, but Sirius didn't notice. "Oi, Remus!" he called. "When you collected all Prongs and Lily's things, did you get her Potion book?"

"Probably?" came Remus' voice from out of the frame. "She kept it in their library."

"And where did you put it all?" Sirius further asked.

"In a couple of trunks. Gave it all to the Headmaster."

"Done!" Hermione called at that moment and turned off the fire underneath her cauldron.

"Got to go," Harry said. "I'll ask the Headmaster about the trunks," he added and disconnected.

"Both perfect," Hermione stated, looking at the two cauldrons with pale pink Potion in them. "Your's was ready half an hour earlier," she added with a slight grudge.

"Snape?" Harry asked with clear disgust in his voice, thumbing his Potion book. "What's 'Princy' about him?"

"He certainly knows his Potions," Hermione summarised.

It took them about half an hour before both Potion-making stations were clean and they were ready to leave for the night. They did that mostly in silence. Hermione led him on a small detour on their way to the door and out.

"That's what Draco is trying to fix," she told Harry, pointing at the large wardrobe-size chest. "Heard him here, muttering to himself and crying several times, when I came looking for my Pensieve," she added.

Harry looked at the cabinet; At Hermione; Back at the cabinet, then shrugged and took out his wand. "Expulso" he whispered, and the cabinet turned into a cloud of dust and splinters.

"That was one wardrobe a person could have gotten lost within," she said levelly, in a way of agreement with that action.

They walked out of the room in silence, while Hermione nervously occupied herself with the button at the back of the hand brace she was wearing. The button that did bugger all.

"Do you know how sometimes your body feels charged with magic when you're excited?" she finally asks.

Harry nodded.

"You should try it," she said softly. "Might help you with silent casting."

Harry nodded again, trying to remind himself of this feeling.

"It's one of the things I find easier to do, ever since last year," she went on explaining, "and see this!" Hermione raised her right hand finger. She concentrated for a moment and a small light lit up at the tip. It wasn't too bright. Probably only visible in that dark corridor, yet was impressive nevertheless.

"This is brilliant!" Harry enthused.

"Just a small light," she answered, trying to minimise his enthusiasm.

"But, without a wand! Did you show this to Flitwick, or anyone?"

"I don't want to attract more attention," she mumbled a tad subdued.

Harry could certainly appreciate this. Once more they were walking the dark corridors in comfortable silence towards the common room. It was only when they almost reached their destination, when Harry started giggling. First softly, then louder, than without control.

"What?!" Hermione complained.

"A wardrobe to get lost within," he giggled some more.

This time, when she slapped him, very lightly, and into the sidewall - it was certainly intentional.

"I hear you met with the Minister over the holidays," were Dumbledore's first words, as soon as Harry took his seat in front of his desk.

"Yes sir," Harry answered. "Not too made up with you, sir."

The Headmaster chuckled softly at that. "He's not very happy with you as well," he agreed. For a moment, Dumbledore looked as if he was expecting some discussion or argument, but it never materialised and soon they were back in the Pensieve to continue the tale of young Tom Riddle.

"And so, for the first time, I am giving you homework, Harry," the Headmaster told Harry, after they came out from the memory.

"What's a Horcrux?" Harry asked in return, not truly waiting for his homework.

"All in a good time, Harry. Now, I must stress just how imperative it…"

"We are wasting our time here," Harry mumbled to himself.

"I assure you, my boy. What I'm showing you here is of the utmost importance," Dumbledore stated gravely.

"Indubitably," Harry agreed and a satisfied smile appeared on the Headmaster's face. "So why won't we get at it, and I'll then take the memories and watch those on my own time?" he asked.

Dumbledore lost his smile.

"I would like Hermione to see those too. She's much better at nitpicking the details," Harry added in an afterthought.

"I'm reluctant to have more people exposed to these memories at this stage," Dumbledore replied gravely.

"And those are important for winning over Voldemort?" Harry further asked, a mostly a rhetorical question.

"Extraordinarily so."

"So Hermione can know about the Prophecy, but can't have the tools to actually be of help?"

"Be as it is…" Dumbledore started to say, to change the subject, but Harry cut him short once more.

"May I see the Slytherin ring once more, sir?" he asked, pointing at the ring on the Headmaster's blackened hand.

Dumbledore looked startled by this request. "Why would you need it?" he asked, as he handed the ring to Harry.

"Something about it is familiar," Harry whispered to himself, turning the ring in his fingers. There was something familiar in the coldness he was feeling from it, but he said nothing about it. "Is this symbol significant?" he then asked, repeating his question from his previous lesson.

Dumbledore picked back the ring and stashed it in his drawer. "As I was saying…"

"Is it a Horcrux?"

"It is most important that we secure the full true memory, Harry!" Dumbledore forced the conversation in the direction he wanted it to go.

Harry recognised the dismissal for what it was. For a long moment Harry sat there, in front of the Headmaster's desk, seemingly deep in thought. "Can you please contact the Minister and convince him to get Sirius a trial, sir?"

"It will be immeasurably difficult to persuade the Minister at this time, Harry," Dumbledore dismissed his request. "I can not stress enough how crucial this memory is, for your chances to vanquish Voldemort," he then returned to what he perceived as the important issue at hand.

"In this case," Harry agreed and stood up. "I am positive that you would do your utmost best to help Sirius be free, sir," Harry concluded, and turned towards the door. He then remembered something and turned back.

"Over the holidays, Remus told me that he left a couple of trunks with my parents' belongings with you. I would truly like to have those, sir."

It was clear that this request truly surprised the old Headmaster. "I can't say that I remember the trunks you are asking about, my boy."

"Right then. I'm confident that a person with your extraordinary brainpower will be able to recall and retrieve those, Headmaster," Harry politely reminded Dumbledore of his words from the beginning of their meeting. With this, he turned around and got himself out.

Inside his now empty office, Dumbledore sat, a bit lost, not sure just how he lost control of this meeting.

On his perch, Fawkes gave a low, musical cry.

Hermione shrugged helplessly. Naturally, she had no bloody idea what a Horcrux was. The vast and famous Hogwarts library had no further information for them.

"Sirius!" Harry called in frustration into his mirror.

"What the hell are you playing with?!" came Sirius' angry reply after the reason for this late call was explained. "Horcrux, are the wickedest…"

"Of all magic," Harry completed his godfather's sentence, taken from the same book, which was the only relevant one they have been able to find. "Don't blame me?" Harry added defensively.

"Apparently, it is Voldemort who does the 'playing'," Hermione deadpanned.

"Wait for my call," Sirius instructed them and disconnected.

"Euw! This book is disgusting!" Hermione exclaimed beside him. Disgusting it might have been, but this didn't stop Hermione from reading through it with some interest. "Exorcism!" she declared, after a little paging.

"Wanna do Professor Binns in?"

"Listen!" she disregards his snide remark. "To exorcise a soul you need a ritual, so once the soul is 'free' one needs to trap it till the ritual can be prepared."

"Fascinating!" he deadpanned once more.

"Two swirls and a Jab," she mumbled to herself, imitating the motions described in the book. "Then 'Anima Bulla!'"

"Or Myrtle, maybe?" Harry offered.

"The ritual, though, is not included…" she then mumbled to herself, paging some more.

"Harry!" came Sirius' voice from the mirror and they focused on the issue at hand once more. He was seen paging furiously through an old book, in front of his Mirror. "Listen - I'm not about to talk about this," he pointed at the book in front of him, "over the mirrors. You will have to meet… No - I won't even take this outside my home's wards. You will have to come here," he stated decisively.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other. "Hogsmead weekend in a fortnight?" Harry offered.

Harry sat alone at the Gryffindor table, pointedly focused on his toasts and marmalade and just as pointedly ignoring the murmured chatter and finger pointing going on all around. This morning, it was his turn to have those empty seats around him and be the target of all the finger pointing.

Once more!

"Probably overdid it," Hermione told him, as she set herself at the conveniently empty bench at his side.

"Was my first time trying," he mumbled.

"Well, you topped it up nicely with Apparating successfully on your first try," she added humorously. Harry responded with narrow eyes, not amused at all.

"You did nicely yourself too," he complained.

"Saturating the body with Magic," she shrugged. "Told you it helps."

A little farther down the table Ron was seated with lavender and both were looking rather annoyed. Not far from him Ginny was seated, together with Dean. She too was looking quite unhappy, as her boyfriend tried to chat her up without much success. She for one had good reasons for it - partially, at the least.

Suddenly a commotion outside the hall pulled everyone's attention.

"Draco!" a girl's voice called

"Sod off!" Draco's voice replied.

All along the hall people turned towards the doors to see what this Kerfuffle was all about. Soon enough the doors burst open and in came Draco, followed closely by a small, slytherin-dressed girl. Draco looked horrible, though. Miserable truly. Harry didn't notice until that moment just how much weight the twit had lost this year. His face was sunk and eyes bloodshot. Clearly he was crying too.

"It's all ruined!" Draco half shouted, half sobbed, as he went down the aisle.

Professor McGonagall shot up from her chair. "Mr Malfoy, do be…"

"Bombarda!" Draco shouted, and the deadly curse sailed down the aisle towards the professor's table, to be stopped by Flitwick's shield.

"They will die now!" Draco cried. "Reducto! Reducto!" he called, sending more destructive magic towards the high table. Again, Professor Flitwick struggled to shield his colleagues. At his side, Professor Slughorn staggered and fell to the floor. One of the curses went wide and hit the platform, sending splinters and food around.

"Stupefy!" someone called from behind Draco's back, but surprisingly enough, the sod was quick enough to shield. It didn't stop his march toward the elevated platform, at the end of the hall, where most of the professors were scattered now looking for cover.

"Mr Malfoy," the Headmaster had finally found it right to intervene. "Please calm…"

"I can't save them now," Draco sobbed, and sent another curse at the Headmaster's direction.

At the end of the table, Harry saw Snape grimace. He was surprised to see the professor still seated and his wand still not drowned. Snape looked as if he was struggling with himself. Harry was astonished that he didn't do anything to protect his pupil. Maybe stop him before Draco did something which couldn't be undone.

Didn't Snape make a vow to help Draco with something?

Draco, meanwhile, kept walking towards the teacher's table sending curses that way. Lethal curses.

Snape stood up now, with his wand in his shaking hand. His face still twisted in a grimace. He was clearly in pain and fighting it? Something?

Harry let his magic flood his body, not sure what he was getting ready for. He didn't understand just why the Headmaster was letting Draco go on and risk the people in the great hall, but didn't want to intervene.

"Why won't you just die?!" Draco shouted, just as he walked past Hermione, who was still sitting at her place, amid the chaos, albeit, having her brace lit and ready. He pointed his wand at the Headmaster once more. "Avada - Ke…"

And Hermione slapped him away with her left hand. No one seemed to notice the slight ripple in the air around her fingers. "Some people are trying to read the Prophet in peace!" she said, as Draco sailed over the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables, into the wall, and dropped there, moaning piteously.

At the teacher's table, or what was left of it at the least, Snape has finally made up his mind, or lost his struggle maybe. He stood straight, turned in a stiff and rather mechanical way, and pointed his wand at the Headmaster. Dumbledore, on his part, wasn't looking at Snape's direction, and was just starting towards Draco, to check up on him.

With only a thought, a red ray of magic shot out from Harry's wand, hit Snape, threw him off the platform and into the back wall, where he was dropped as well - unconscious.

"Not a whisper," Hermione remarked dryly. "Congratulations!"

The next couple of weeks were utter chaos. Draco was detained and isolated. Ministry Aurors were seen visiting the castle several times, but were later seen leaving by themselves each time.

"Doesn't seem like Dumbledore is willing to surrender him to the Ministry," Hermione remarked dryly.

"He will be free within the day," Ron answered, with a very full mouth and earned a frown - even from Lavender!

"Than be probably killed by Voldemort within that same same day," Harry agreed and disregarded the common flinch and shudder exhibited by most around. "Can't see Dumbledore agreeing to that," he added.

Having said that, the Headmaster himself was a rather scarce occurrence ever since that morning. He was present for a couple of evening meals, looking even more old and haggard than usual, but otherwise was keeping to himself. Surprisingly enough, Snape (Professor!) wasn't seen ever since that day too, leaving the school with no Defence teaching for the time being.

"Would have expected him to come storming in and remove a thousand points from Gryffindor, mate," was what Ron had to say about it, and Harry could only nod thoughtfully.

"Hogsmeade!" Ron then enthused. "Honeydukes?" he added hopefully.

"Meeting with Snuffles," Hermione reminded him softly.

Ron visibly deflated. On one hand - Sirius! Breaking the rules! Being part of the adventure!

Lavender, on the other hand…

"Won-Won?" the girl asked.

Harry smiled sadly, clearly disappointed with his friend's choice.

Hermione just shrugged and went back to her morning newspaper.

"Firewhiskey? Scotch?" Sirius asked them as soon as they appeared out of his fireplace. Sirius himself was already holding his mostly empty glass.

He's looking better, Harry thought to himself.

Sirius was certainly taking better care of himself these days. He was shaved; his hair neatly done; and had clean, decent clothings on. His eyes, though, were a little bloodshot.

"Welcome," Remus greeted them, getting out of his armchair. "Does the Headmaster know you're here?"

"Library?" Sirius asked, clearly disappointed with their lack of enthusiasm for a morning drink. Also, disregarding his friend.

"I like what you did with the place," Hermione smiled in appreciation for the now clean lounge and hall. Sirius' response diminished her smile though.

"Was much easier to clean around here once we got rid of Kreacher," he mumbled and climbed the now Elf-heads-free stairs.

Hermione's warm smile immediately turned into a frown. Not that Sirius noticed. Remus did, though.

"He was putting back everything we tried to change or throw away," he hurried to explain. "Then, Sirius blasted his mother's portrait. Kreacher popped in, screamed, and tried to attack Sirius. He then found out he couldn't, so he killed himself and added his head to the display."

"Poor thing!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Was much easier to clean and redecorate ever since," Sirius stated once more, still climbing the stairs. "We started by throwing all the Elf heads to the bin."

"How did you remove the portrait?" Harry was interested to know. Last time he was visiting - it was a huge issue.

"Blasted the ruddy thing, together with the wall it was hanging on," Remus deadpanned.

"Wasn't it loadbearing?" Harry asked and immediately regretted it by the looks he was getting from the three others. Honestly, every person who ever visited the Burrow should have known not to ask such a ridiculous question.

"Here we are," Sirius concluded that discussion, entering the fourth floor's parlour. Soon they were paging through an old, hand-written, leather bound book. It was, surprisingly enough, in pristine condition.

"They shouldn't read things like this!" Remus objected to the other responsible adult in the room.

"Dumbledore is teaching me about it, but won't tell me what they are," Harry tried to explain. Remus was clearly not impressed.

"Ewu!" Hermione exclaimed, after reading through the text.

"Why would someone do such a thing to himself?" Harry agreed, after reading the same. "And multiple times too!"

Sirius shrugged. "He probably read some very partial information. This magic is rare and kept very close to the chest," he explained. "This book, for example, was in the head-of-house only library."

"So You-know-who actually did himself harm?" Remus was surprised by the information.

"Depends," Sirius shrugged again. "It will protect him from being killed, but will probably shorten his years. A wizard of You-know-who's power has arguably lost some fifty years of his life, doing what he did.

"Would have been killed fifteen years ago by my mother unless he did," Harry remarked impassively.

"Potentially has more than a century in front of him still," Hermione added, rereading the old text. She then moved to look around, while thinking out loud. "So we need to destroy those," she says. "Do we know what they are?"

Harry shrugged.

"How many are there?"

Harry shrugged again helplessly. "The Headmaster is just showing me memories and refuses to answer any questions," he answered with a healthy dose of frustration.

"I trust the Headmaster to know what's right," Remus stated decisively.

"Didn't we throw all these out?" Harry then asked, looking in a display cabinet along the wall and disregarding Remus' words.

"And Kreacher brought it all back," Sirius replied dryly. "Dust and all…"

"Try and ask Professor Dumbledore again?" Hermione offered lightly.

"Last time I've practically told him I'm not interested, till he makes sure Sirius has his freedom," Harry sighed.

"If the Headmaster reckons it is not…" Remus started to answer, but Harry wasn't paying attention.

"I know this thing," he said thoughtfully, pointing at a heavy gold locket carrying an ornate serpentine S on top, which was sitting in the display.

"It was brought back by Kreacher," Sirius replied derisively. "For some reason he was very attached to it."

"No," Harry mumbled. "It was in one of the memories Dumbledore showed me. It belonged to Voldemort's mother. The bugger then stole it."

"It was?" Sirius was surprised to know.

"You probably shouldn't…" Hermione started to say, but Harry was already reaching for the locket.

"Cold!" Harry hissed and dropped the locket back. He also grimaced and rubbed his scar a bit.

"Alright?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"Just a little migraine," Harry dismissed it.

"A potion?" Remus asked.

"We need to get this to the Headmaster," Harry answered, dismissing his own discomfort. Across the room, Remus nodded his head in complete agreement. "Maybe this will make him finally tell me what it's all about," Harry added, and Remus frowned.

"Where have you been?" Professor McGonagall asked them tersely, as soon as they showed their faces through the front doors. "Mr Weasley was already back hours ago," she added in disapproval.

"We were separated," Harry refrained from elaborating. Clearly Ron had his head straight enough to not tell their Head of house where Hermione and him had gone.

"Very well, then," the Professor was clearly too preoccupied by something, or was she too anxious to handle her wayward students at this moment. "The Headmaster requests your presence in his office at your earliest convenience, Mr Potter," the Professor instructs him, clearly conveying the message that his 'convenience' is not truly a consideration at the moment. "Please head to the common room, Ms Granger," she then added, turned, and hurried away, making every effort not to run in front of her students.

The said two surprised students looked at each other, shrugged, and headed towards the Headmaster's office. Their 'convenience' at this moment was to show him the locket as soon as possible, then ask a few pointed questions.

"Harry, splendid!" Dumbledore enthused, even before they had the chance to knock on his door.

He looks old, Harry found himself thinking as soon as he laid eyes on the Headmaster. Frail. It was as if the years had jumped on him and that vitality he used to extrude was veining.

"You don't look well, sir," Harry found himself saying.

Dumbledore immediately lost his smile. Noticing Hermione standing there didn't help. "Alas, Professor Snape is not able to brew the potion I need any more," he answered.

"Did he vow to help Draco kill you?" Hermione pointedly asked. This was exactly the reason Dumbledore didn't want her in the room for his lessons for Harry.

"St Mungo's?" Harry offered.

"Maybe later," Dumbledore tried to change the subject. "Now, Ms Granger - Harry and I…"

"It this a Horcrux?" Hermione cut him short, as Harry took out the locket and laid it on the desk.

For a long moment the Headmaster was speechless. It gave Harry and Hermione the chance to ask their questions.

"Was the Ring a Horcrux too?" Harry asked.

"Are there others? Hermione pressed on.

"How many?" Harry stressed.

Can a living being be a Horcrux?" Hermione asked levelly.

"Am I?" Harry added a question which was on his mind, ever since the first time he handled the ring.

Hermione blinked, hearing this last question.

Each question took Dumbledore further and further away from the beaten path. Away from his plan.

"Well?" Harry finally asked with a raised eyebrow.

But answers were not something that Dumbledore was ever comfortable in offering, so he chose to return with a question of his own. "Where did you find it?" he asked with clear surprise in his voice.

"Sirius's," Hermione answered curtly.

"Did you leave Hogsmead without permission?" Dumbledore immediately tried to guilt himself back into control.

Habits die hard, Harry thought and rolled his eyes.

Dumbledore, on the other hand, probably felt he was regaining some control over this conversation, so he went on and made an effort to lead the conversation in the direction he was interested in, doing what Dumbledore has probably ever been most comfortable with - asking questions:

"Surely you have found the time to ask Professor Slughorn for that memory?" Hope was clear in his tone of voice. But he was set for disappointment that day.

"Last time I met Sirius, he was still a wanted man with no hope for a trial," Harry answered, indifferently.

"Harry, my boy," Dumbledore stressed. "This isn't the time for youthful rebellion? Professor Slughorn was found dead in his private lounge this morning. Poisoned," he told them in hope that the memory was collected in time. Sadly, any hopes the Headmaster might have held were soon dashed.

"Oh no!" Hermione called, rather shocked.

That's what Professor McGonagall was so stressed about! Harry though.

"I will never see my parents belongings now," Harry bemoaned out loud in response.

Dumbledore visibly sagged at his desk. "This untimely and childish rebellion of yours lost us an invaluable piece of information. Might have cost us your chance at winning against Tom!" The Headmaster dressed Harry down.

For a moment, Harry closed in on himself. Long habits, especially bad ones, indeed die hard. Then he stole a look at his friend, to see her frown.

"Hermione?" he asked softly. "Reckon we can use this new favour Rita owes you to set the people straight, regarding both the Minister and Dumbledore not doing their jobs and 'choosing' children to take the responsibility and blame from their shoulders?"

The Headmaster visibly shuddered while Hermione nodded thoughtfully.

"How do we kill it?" Harry went back to one of the truly important questions on the table.

The Headmaster sighed and pointed at the display box behind his back. "I used the sword of Gryffindor to destroy the ring," he explained. "It has absorbed the Basilisk venom into itself."

"And the backlash did this to your hand?" Harry asked, pointing at the Headmaster's blackened hand.

For a moment, Dumbledore looked introverted. Somewhat embarrassed as well. He then shook his head slightly. "I was preoccupied when I did, and didn't notice another curse, which was laid on the ring."

Extraordinary brainpower my arse, Harry found himself thinking, but thankfully only nodded his head slightly with sympathy.

"We should keep ourselves focused then," Hermione remarked. "Was there any backlash at all?" she asked, and apparently there was some.

"Well then, better take it to an empty classroom or some such," Harry offered and got up to reach for the sword. On top of the Headmaster's desk, the locket twitched and almost fell off.

"Look, it's afraid!" Hermione declared, with some quite unbecoming glee.

In Harry's hand, a sword has suddenly appeared, out of the, well - display box. Harry promptly dropped it down in surprise.

"Huh?" Harry remarked eloquently at that.

A true Gryffindor! Was all Dumbledore could think.

It was about an hour later, when the three were back to the Headmaster's office, now sipping some tea.

"That was fun!" Hermione stated with some clear disgust in her voice.

"Every single part of him is a conniving little bastard," Harry offered his opinion and no one seemed to find his language to be unbecoming at that time and place.

"You should rejoice - this was an important step forward!" stated the Headmaster.

"Right!" Harry agreed. "How many more steps are there?"

"And what are the items we're looking for?" Hermione asked.

"And more importantly - how do we take the one in me out, without 'destroying the vessel'?" Harry returned to the most important question.

The silence which followed was all but comfortable.

"I thought I'm your best mate?!" Ron complained loudly, as soon as Hermione and Harry had shown their faces in the Gryffindor common room.

"Nevermind him!" Dean joined in "What did I ever do to you? Butting into other's love-life just ain't cricket, mate."

Harry clearly didn't have a clue regarding what all this was about. Behind his back, Hermione chuckled lightly. Farther into the room, he could see Ginny fuming on a couch, in front of the fireplace. Demelza Robins was seated beside her, hugging her lightly in sympathy. Then Harry was forced to raise his head to meet the eyes of the tall bloke who invaded his very personal space.

"You being chosen to the team was a mistake from the very first year," McLaggen stated, for all in the common room to hear. "I'm taking over it now!"

Harry took a slow deep breath. He now had an idea regarding what all this was about. He also had more important and pressing issues to handle, at this point in time.

Might be good to count to ten…

First he looked Ron in the eyes. This forced him to lean a tad to the side, since McLaggen was still standing right in front of him. "It isn't me who decides, y'know? It is our head of house who does. If you reckon you've been overlooked - take it with her, though I wouldn't be doing it in your shoes - something about grades and a letter to your mother?"

Ron's ears were turning a little red now. Behind him, Lavender frowned.

"As for you, mate," Harry leaned to the other side of McLaggen to speak with his other friend. McLaggen was certainly miffed for being so thoroughly ignored, but Harry ignored that as well for the time. "If you have issues with just how brilliant your girlfriend is, she will soon be your ex, and not by your choice."

In the den, in front of the fireplace, Ginny sat slightly straighter and a shadow of a smirk could be noticed on her face.

"I suggest some grovelling?" Harry added.

Dean nodded and looked towards his girlfriend, clearly embarrassed.

"As for you, Cormac," Harry finally acknowledged the tall plonker and pushed him slightly away from him. This had mostly the effect of pushing Harry himself a step back, but he truly didn't care. "You were never good enough to even be considered for the Gryffindor team. You are not good enough to be considered this year, unless Ginny reckons otherwise, and by the sheer talent of our house's students - you will not be considered next year too, even if you fail everything and stay for another year, like Flint did."

In front of him, McLaggen was fuming, but Harry didn't care much.

"Now, please get out of my face?" He said. "Or I'll be forced to ask our new Captain there to show you just why Professor…

Late Professor, he sadly corrected himself in his mind.

"Slughorn took a liking to her."

On the couch, in front of the fire, Ginny was now clearly smirking.

"Hem, hem," Came a voice from behind his back and made him shudder a tad.

"Sorry," he loudly whispered to his friend. "He's an annoying berk alright, but hasn't done anything to deserve getting you as a punishment."

Hermione chuckled darkly in response.

In front of Harry, Mr McLaggen gulped loudly and hurried to make himself scarce, proving clearly that while an annoying berk he certainly was, dim enough to risk Hermione's ire he wasn't. Not even likely to fail the year.

Sigh…

The rest of the month was strange indeed. School was first shocked, then mostly saddened, when the Headmaster stood up, during the next morning's breakfast, to announce the death of Professor Slughorn. The Potions Professor's eccentricities aside, and he certainly had a few, he was a rather loved and certainly an excellent educator. It's been years since the last time Hogwarts had a good Potions Professor. Thinking of it, it was the late Professor Slughorn himself back then too.

The school's mood wasn't improved by the fact that the Headmaster seemed to be at death's door himself, giving this announcement. That led to quite a bit of whispering that morning.

Once more, Hogwarts has witnessed several envoys of Aurors. All left empty handed, except for that first one, who left with a closed casket. One morning that envoy included the Minister himself, who looked to be quite annoyed leaving the building.

"Sir? My Godfather?" Harry tried and asked, but Minister Scrimgeour just glanced his way, then left without a word.

For a school, well, schoolwork also suffered. Defence against the Dark Arts was suffering for almost a month now, ever since 'the incident' and Professor Snape being confined to his quarters. Arguably, those studies were suffering ever since the late 70s, or so stories told.

Now, and for the foreseeable future, Potion studies were on hiatus as well once more. The last time they were on hiatus was when the late Professor left school the first time, in the early eighties, and a certain sneering Professor took over.

Wherever Harry and Hermione went, they were followed by pleading looks, wishing for them to retake the mantle of educating their student friends, yet neither were truly interested. Both had their Potion book review project still going strong and occupying a few of their evenings each week. In all honesty - their personal Potion studies have never gone so strongly. That small Potion book was a surprising treasure of quite creative and rather mean curses as well, which Harry took careful care to test and document, as per Hermione's instructions.

Hermione herself was still investing most of her free time immersed in that Pensive she found in the Room of Requirement. She wasn't ready to elaborate or explain as of yet, and was showing a certain and quite alarming disregard for her general studies.

"I'll explain everything during the summer break," she only promised.

Harry himself was using the time to practise saturating his body, or parts of it, with magic, in a controlled way. It correlated directly with his Occlumency practice too. Bill was very helpful in this regard and their two stolen meetings in Hogsmeade certainly put Harry on the right track. It was Fleur, however, who was truly godsend.

Hermione rolled her eyes when he told her so, but didn't explain.

Apparently, Occlumency was the only way for Veelas to even try and go out for fresh croissants, or some such, among the Parisian normals. As such, she had quite a tight control over her mind from a young age. She even had some experience helping her younger sister learn the ropes.

Also, last year Harry's main drive for running the DA was anger and spite. Well, anger and spite were still there, but were now mostly focused at the Headmaster and the Minister. Harry was much less inclined, these days, to do the Headmaster's job for him. Those were his friends, though, and some of them had their OWLs and NEWTs by the end of the year, so…

"You should create a study group to learn together, then set a structured timetable to replace the planned lessons," Hermione offered the student 'envoy' who finally approached them formally. "Harry and I will visit and help whenever we have the time."

"I can ask Professor McGonagall's permission to use the Defence and Potion classrooms," Harry promised. Learning Potions without a dedicated class will be hard indeed.

"You will probably have to schedule a Prefect's presence at all times," Hermione added, after a thought.

Setting lose a bunch of students inside a Potion lab with no supervision is a rather horrible idea.

Students were quick to organise themselves, led by Ginny, Neville and surprisingly enough, a certain Ms Davis of the Slytherin house.

"Get a hold of yourself!" Harry snapped at his mate. By the slight reddening of the tips of Ron's ears - it was very well timed.

"Have a biscuit," McGonagall told them with a grimace on her face, as soon as the three students were seated in front of her desk. She wasn't too chuffed about students taking their education into their own hands too.

"We have one of the world's leading Potion masters teaching here," she repeated Dumbledore's mantra, as soon as the issues were explained.

"Yet he is teaching Defence this year," Hermione remarked dryly.

"Which, he is much better at teaching," Harry grudgingly admitted.

"Only he hadn't shown his face outside his quarters for almost two months now," Ms Davis added softly, to earn a scowl from the Deputy Headmistress. Was it for what she said? For her being right? For her being a Slytherin? Harry didn't know.

"I assure you the Headmaster has this issue well at hand," McGonagall replied as expected.

This worship of the old man is getting annoying, Harry thought.

"Is it his right hand, or his left," Harry found himself asking, and by the scowls he was receiving now, from the three women in the office - it was indubitably the wrong thing to say at this moment.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor, Mr Potter," McGonagall announced, and Hermione certainly agreed. Davis smirked - just a little.

"Professor," Davis said politely. "The school may like to disregard this, but unless something is done soon, students will start leaving this school for better ones."

This exodus has already started on a small, if certainly noticeable, scale. First to leave were the Patil sisters. For their family, the death of a Professor was a last straw kind of an incident. Dean left as well, to travel away from the isles for safety and good schooling.

"Unless something substantial is done fast, this school is about to lose many more of its students," Davis added calmly. "Including me."

By the look of it, this was a bitter potion to swallow for the Deputy-Headmistress. "I will bring this up with Headmaster Dumbledore," she promised, to earn eye rolls from the student representatives in front of her desk.

"You might like to handle this yourself, ma'am," Harry remarked politely. "During one of our latest meetings, Headmaster Dumbledore told me his hands are not as quick as they used to be." This has lost Gryffindor twenty more points, but Harry didn't care much for it.

Bottom line, permission was given the next day.

Also, Gryffindor lost their game with Hufflepuff - miserably. It all started well - A sunny day. After her heart breaking parting from Dean, Ginny invited a third-year boy to join the team. He ended up being quite good at it. When Harry noticed the Snitch and dived for it, some half an hour into the game, the Gryffindor front line had already had the game well in hand with several hoops of an advantage. A short moment later, when Harry came back up with the caught Snitch in his hand, ready to celebrate - the game was already lost.

Turns out one Mr McLaggen has barged into the pit, on his broom, wearing the gryffindor formal colours. He grabbed a bat out of the hands of one of the beaters and sent a Buldger in Ginny's way. Ginny, the excellent player that she is, got away quite easily, and by the time Harry managed to have a look around, Cormac was already laying on the ground and fighting off green and disgusting bats. Also, Gryffindor had lost for having too many players inside the pitch at one time.

Oh well - at least a technical has only a small penalty in points. All they will have to do is win against Ravenclaw, and the cup will be theirs.

Huge shout to flyboy38, my beta, who took the time to make sure this story is a much better read.