In the Crosshairs
Dragon Voldemort
Chapter 19: Classes
A stone archway, with a curtain. Within the curtain, Harry, with his jet black hair, and Ron with his red hair, had their fists banging.
"Help!" Harry and Ron screamed, "Help!"
Voldemort stood nearby, laughing.
Hermione woke up, tense, it was still early Wednesday morning. She immediately felt to her left, with the slumbering idiot of Ron, drooling onto his pillow; both on his four poster bed. Hermione closed her eyes, but her mind was replaying her dream, repeatedly, and so she rolled out of bed, stood up. She went to the water pitcher, poured herself a cup, and sipped as she started to pace.
"That was you?" Neville whispered.
Hermione nearly jumped, tensed up, until she saw that it was just him. Neville's eyes tried to avoid seeing her starkers as she stood there.
"Maybe," Hermione said, uncertain to what Neville heard.
Hermione went for the door. Down the stairs, until she came to the common room. She crossed over to the fireplace, embers still glowing and heating it up, and sat on the sofa. Neville followed, sat next to her. He blushed as her eyes spotted his white briefs.
"You screamed," Neville said.
"A nightmare and not the first time," Hermione said, "It's similar, all of them, a stone arch, I can't place it for the life of me, but it seems dangerous, deadly. Harry and Ron, well, Voldemort does them in."
"You dropped Divination in third year," Neville said.
"I know," Hermione said, "I think it just means I'm overlooking something, and danger's just around the corner."
"It's not as bad as Harry's night terrors," Neville said, "I don't know where he goes at night, but thank Merlin he's not here, it was rough sleeping."
"He's found…" Hermione stalled as she realized she was nearly about to divulge Harry's secret commute; she refocused her mind. "She's got her craft down, those night terrors aren't as bad as they used to be."
They sat there for a while before returning back up to the dormitory.
Ron looked up from his plate, watched Hermione sit down, before he worked on the slab of bacon. Hermione took The Daily Prophet into her hands, began to read.
"Nothing of interest, is there?" Ron said, "Like giving Dad his job back?"
"No," Hermione said, "Some letters to the editor protesting the move on Knockturn Alley."
"Can imagine why," Ron said.
Finnigan and Thomas entered, a young girl in their shadow, followed. A first year boy moved to sit next to Neville.
"Strange," Hermione said, glancing at Neville.
"Hi," the boy said, "I'm Ruff, glad your friend isn't around."
"You mean Harry?" Ron asked.
"Yes, the one who beat me up!" Ruff said, "I'm astounded the Ministry dropped the charges. How much was that bribe?"
"Shouldn't you be sitting with…I don't know, the first years?" Ron asked.
"It's Seamus' new idea," Neville said, "I like it, you know, you should take a first year under your wing too."
"That was Harry's idea," Ron said.
"Stop stealing credit!" Finnigan snapped.
"Yeah!" Thomas retorted, "Five points for theft!"
"Ignore them," Hermione said to Ron, "Harry'd just be glad its happening."
"Harry came up with it—yesterday!" Ron said to Hermione.
"Ignore it," Hermione said.
Ron did survey the table, it was much more mingled, first years sitting among the fifth and sixth, while some second years were sitting with the seventh. The Hufflepuff table was similarly mixed.
"The idea is that we can help them feel more comfortable, part of the house," Neville said, "I mean, you remember how intimidating Slytherin could be our first year, it's good for them to be able to come to us. And, it makes them feel more welcome too."
"I'd be okay with all of it," Ron said, "But Harry suggested the exact same thing yesterday, and now, it's suddenly their idea?"
"Buzz off," Neville snapped.
Gong!
Harry rushed Thursday morning down the flights of stairs, toward the ground floor, when Peeves let out a cackle. A stair, just ahead, rose fast, right in front of Harry's foot. Harry tripped, flew downward.
Laughter
Passing fourth years laughed. Harry recovered, went down, a bit more carefully, and came to the greenhouse with the other sixth years lined up.
"Dunno why you bother," Finnigan said.
"Ignore him," Ron suggested to Harry.
Though, both Ron and Hermione had grins, as Hermione had her back against Ron's stomach, while Ron's hands were down the front of her trousers. Motions beneath the cloth made it evident on what Ron was doing.
"Good morning to you too," Harry said.
"It is a good morning," Hermione said, softly.
"Get a room!" Parvati Patil snapped.
"Bug off!" Ron retorted.
"Good morning sixth years," Madam Sprout said, "It took a bit longer to find my key, and it involved a discussion of dragon food."
"Wonder why," Ron said.
"It means she misplaced her key and had to ask Hagrid," Hermione said.
Madam Sprout pushed the key in, unlocked the door.
"Careful when you enter," Madam Sprout said, "The Venomous Tentacula are just seedlings, so their bites are not fatal."
They all entered the greenhouse.
Finnigan watched Harry and Gia cross the Gryffindor Common Room that evening.
"How quickly people forget!" Finnigan said, "That bloke killed a dozen—"
"Dumbledore believes him," Neville said, sitting at the same table.
"What'd you get for this?" Justin Finch–Fletchley said, "How is the cuckoo always wanting to be a clock? Spell to encourage it?"
"Started with chrono—I forget," Macmillan said, "Potter ought to be one, he killed twelve, that'd make for a clock, a dozen skulls."
"Speaking of clocks, I promised Luna…later," Neville said. Neville got up.
"At least you're safe, you're Gryffindor," Finch–Fletchley said.
"I got assaulted," Finnigan said, "Good old Longbottom doesn't care, he'll forgive."
"I simply do not believe Harry's going dark," Neville said.
"It always start small," Finnigan said, "Mark my words, Potter's going to get worse. I want him gone."
"What do you fucking plan to do about it?" Neville asked.
"Dunno," Finnigan said.
"Well, catch ya later," Neville said.
Neville grabbed his bookbag, left.
"Funny that Madam Pomfrey thought we'd need an exam," Ron said that evening in the library.
"She's just trying to be cautious," Hermione said as she read over Treatise on the Killing Curse.
"Get on the table, I'll give you an exam," Ron said.
"Sure you'd love to," Hermione replied.
"I'd be thorough, very thorough," Ron said, "You know, inspect everything…just in case."
"We're in the library," Hermione reminded Ron.
"Then it's not a problem, here—" Ron tapped the table.
"I approve," Harry said as he came in. Gia with him.
"She's researching Killing Curses," Ron said.
"Just trying to figure this out," Hermione said.
"Professor Dumbledore gave it to me," Harry said as he sat down.
"The best advice for not getting killed by one is…get this, not being hit by it in the first place," Hermione said.
"He's not that daft," Harry said as he took the book from Hermione.
"All the rest of it deals with the anatomy of it, the curse," Hermione said, "What it is and isn't doing, and what mustn't be hit to stay alive."
"I'll have to read it," Harry said.
"Word of warning, it was written two centuries ago," Hermione said, "Some testing was done in there, not everybody survived."
"I'll keep that in mind," Harry said.
"You said we'd go back, right away," Gia said, "Swimming pool has hours."
"Swimming?" Ron said, "Just walk outside."
"It's always raining here," Harry said, glancing out the window at the storm, "I mean, it was cloudy there, but here—is the castle enchanted? You know, to keep the muggles away?"
"Hadn't thought of that," Hermione said, "I know they'd see a ruin—present company excluded."
"Yep," Gia said, as she showed off the ring on her finger, Harry's ring.
"We need to get back," Harry said, "Later."
Harry and Gia walked into the restricted section, ducked behind a bookcase.
"And you've got that book memorized," Ron said.
Hermione smiled.
"It's not an easy question," Hermione said, "In fact, it makes every other essay we've ever had, child's play. Everybody has a pet theory on how it'd be protected against, and, well, Lily Potter was the first to succeed, not for herself, but for Harry."
"And who last checked out that book?" Ron asked.
"Tom Riddle," Hermione said.
"So, you're suggesting we check every book's checkout card?" Ron asked.
"That's a splendid idea," Hermione said.
"You're brilliant," Ron said.
Ron and Hermione went over to the restricted section, began to pull books.
Boom!
Lightning brought Ron to a lucid state Friday morning. Hermione still asleep next to him.
Pfffpt!
Creak!
Ron tried to ignore it, however, footsteps followed.
Klomp! Klomp!
"Harry!" Ron said, guessing.
Swoosh!
Quickly, in a fell swoop, Ron's curtains and covers were torn away, revealing Hermione there. Dean Thomas glared. Hermione's eyes opened, watched.
"How many times do I have to tell you? She's not to be in here!" Thomas snapped.
"It's my bed!" Ron said, "Kiss my dick and apologize!"
"No!" Thomas snapped.
"Then let me be," Ron said, "If you're so concerned—check on Seamus!"
"He is not acting like a jerk," Thomas said, "You are. I'll see to getting you a detention, because I'm the one that's supposed to be keeping order."
"Then do it," Ron said, "And buzz off."
Ron and Hermione laid there several minutes before they got up.
"How do we plan to deal with them—prying?" Hermione asked.
"Dunno," Ron said as they entered the shower, together.
"We try to be nice and that's shoved back into our faces," Hermione said, "Yet, when anything bad happens, it flies around faster than a bad check in the mail—"
"Mail?" Ron said, "Muggle post, right?"
"Yes," Hermione said as the hot and soapy water poured over her.
Ron's hands worked her shoulders.
"Dunno about them," Ron said, "You—I know just what to do with you."
Hermione snorted. Ron reached around, held onto her chest, held her close to him.
"You don't give up, do you?" Hermione asked.
"Worry the moment I do," Ron said as he craned his neck, kissed her on the cheek.
"So, what have you learned?" Professor Dumbledore asked as Harry sat down.
"I read the whole book, stuff of nightmares," Harry said, "Gia got upset, but I calmed down enough after my run that we…erm…you know. It helped get the anxiety out, well, until I downed that half pot of coffee."
"It is not a pleasant matter," Professor Dumbledore said.
Harry took out his parchment.
"I did not find a way," Harry said, "Obviously, my Mum was the first—but with me, not her."
"Documented, yes," Professor Dumbledore said.
"Many witches and wizards have tried various defenses, but the best defense is to simply not get hit with it," Harry said, "Claxby did extensive research on condemned prisoners in the late eighteenth century, and still stands as the best work on the subject. He'd amputate and perform the curse. If he struck the amputated limb, it may or may not kill the person. Strike the person, and, well, both would die, even if they already had been amputated."
"Clayton Claxby was also the Ministry's Chief Executioner of the time," Professor Dumbledore said, "His methods were…"
"Atrocious," Harry said, "He'd also employ demeantors, so if a soul got sucked out, but put back in after the curse, well, the soul itself was already destroyed. Claxby suspected it was in the soul, if you struck the soul, the person died."
"And in your case?" Professor Dumbledore asked.
"My mother's sacrifice, the love, it kept it from striking my soul," Harry said.
"Interesting theory," Professor Dumbledore said, "That's what it'll have to remain because any proof would be ghastly to obtain."
"Do you have any theories?" Harry asked.
"Some, but equally hard to prove," Professor Dumbledore said, "However, I do have something that can assist, your friend Ronald thought to survey each book in the restricted section and study its checkout card. We know which books Tom found interesting enough to remove from the library, and I think we'll make study of them."
"Yeah," Harry said as he wondered if he could just get Hermione in on this.
Ash watched the paper airplane soar from Gale's hand, next to him, across the classroom. Professor Binns was oblivious and kept lecturing.
"That's stupid!" snapped a girl, Easter Oakdale.
"At least I'm not some half–blood!" seethed another girl, with her brown hair in a bun on her head, a Slytherin first year, Hilda.
"You keep trying to spy on that sixth year," Easter said, "A boy?"
"You mean—that no good?" Hilda said, "Overheard Draco, a real prat, that Potter."
"He's a stupid boy," Easter said.
"I've taken the oath," Hilda said, "He'll get no assistance from me."
"He's a boy, doesn't need it," Easter replied.
"Potter seems alright," Gale said.
"Stay away from him, if you want to live," Hilda said, "That's what I've heard."
"Gryffindor, Gryffindor," Easter said, "I'd hate to be a Gryffindor."
Ash put his head onto his desk, tried to ignore it.
"Do something about it," Gale said, with a push against Ash.
Ash shook his head, kept it down. He didn't want to be drawn in, instead, he tried to focus on Professor Binns despite the lack luster speed.
"After the fall of Grindelwald, Albus Dumbledore was considered for the Merlin's Staff,"[1] Professor Binns said, "However, that nomination fell short by ten approvals, most notably when the United States Congress was unable to pass the resolution…"
Ash took his quill, began to doodle, crudely, on the parchment of his notebook. It blunted the edge on the lies being told about Harry Potter. Ash knew Harry to be a kind soul, but to defend Harry would require Ash to speak up, something Ash couldn't do.
"Grindelwald was tried in Nuremberg and sentenced—"
"If I were in Gryffindor, I'd be watching my back," Hilda said.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione came down the steps to the Potions classroom. Finnigan gave a quick shove as he passed them.
"Bug off!" Ron snapped.
"Get bent," Finnigan retorted.
"I expect sixth years to behave," Professor Snape said as he came through, unlocked the classroom door.
They entered. Hermione took a spot next to Neville, while Harry and Ron took a different cauldron.
"She's—" Ron said.
"Only pairs now," Harry said, "Neville needs it, whereas us—"
"Get docked points," Ron said, "Here it goes."
"Take out your ingredients," Professor Snape said, "I doubt anybody will get this right."
Professor Snape waved his wand, the board revealed, Babbling Beverage.
"On the bright side, nobody can tell if it's effective on sixth–year students," Professor Snape said, "Begin."
Ron brought over the jar of earwigs, put one onto the board. Harry moved fast with the mallet, smashed it, before he scraped it into the cauldron. Ron picked his nose, pulled the snot out, dropped it in.
"You get to drink it," Ron said to Harry.
Steadily, they simmered, stewed, and added the ingredients in the cauldron, the brew deepening its orange color while the flames lapped beneath the pewter.
"An exercise in futility to check," Professor Snape said as he went over to Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch–Fletchley's cauldron, "Orange is the proper color." Professor Snape ladled up the deep red potion.
"Now!" Finnigan said to Malfoy.
Malfoy flicked his finger at the extra beetle eye laying on his table, the wand aimed, guided the beetle eye, until it dropped into Harry and Ron's cauldron. Quickly, in the moment that it took Professor Snape to get there, the ladle revealed the deep blue color.
"This would likely be fatal to ingest," Professor Snape said, "Forty points from Gryffindor."
"They're baiting us," Ron said to Harry, "Don't fall for it."
Professor Snape glared before he moved over to ladle Hermione and Neville's perfect orange potion.
"Twenty points for cheating," Professor Snape said.
"Hold it," Harry retorted to Ron.
Professor Snape moved over to Malfoy's cauldron.
"Finally, a viable potion," Professor Snape said, "Fifty points to Slytherin."
Harry began to glare at Professor Snape.
"He's not worth it," Ron said to Harry.
Ron entered the Hogwarts library late that evening, when the commotion came to his ears.
"How are we to be sure?" asked Parvati Patil, on the opposite side of the side table from Hermione, glaring down.
"Do you want to be doing my homework for me?" Hermione snapped.
"Get a room, you two," Parvati Patil sneered as her eyes glanced at Ron.
"Back away," Ron said.
"Is that a threat?" Parvati Patil asked.
"Does it need to be?" Ron said, "Back off! That's all we're asking."
Ron sat down.
"I can't focus like this," Hermione grumbled.
Lavender Brown, Ernie Macmillan were standing nearby, watching.
"We've got the right to be here," Ron said.
"Let's go—somewhere else," Hermione whispered.
"Got the books you need?" Ron asked.
"Yes," Hermione said.
"We were just finishing up!" Ron announced, "Good night!"
Ron stood, Hermione stood, and they left the Library.
"You had to—" Hermione started.
"And let em think they drove us out?" Ron asked.
"Lets try the Great Hall," Hermione said.
Ron and Hermione went down the steps, corridors, the marble stairs and started to cross the Entrance Hall.
"It is getting late," Professor Snape said, "What are you not doing in your dormitories?"
"Studying in the Great Hall," Ron said.
"Unavailable after dinner," Professor Snape said.
Hermione and Ron went back up the marble stairs, followed by Professor Snape, until they came to the Fat Lady, entered. Quickly, tables that had been empty were quickly filled out by the other Gryffindors, as the others spread around.
"Rather obvious," Ron said.
Ron and Hermione went up the stairs, into the sixth year boys' dormitory, entered.
"Hey, no girls!" Thomas snapped.
"She's my guest," Ron said.
"Rules are the rules!" Thomas said, "Five points, and hurry before I give you a detention with Snape!"
Ron adjusted the bookbag on his shoulder, led Hermione out of the dormitory, down the steps, and headed for the door.
"Hey!" Ginny said, "Stay!"
"NO!" Ron said, "Or, you tell them to let us study!"
"It'd be a mutiny," Ginny said.
"Fine!" Ron snapped, "Later!"
Ron and Hermione left Gryffindor Tower.
"That's not right," Hermione said, "We've been together many times before."
"I know," Ron said, "Snape's likely stalking us now."
"I've got an idea," Hermione said.
Hermione led Ron down to the fifth floor, and they entered the Prefect's bathroom.
"Good thinking," Ron said, "He'd have to admit to cleaning to come here."
"I didn't mean—" Hermione started as Ron pulled his shirt off.
"Why not?" Ron asked, as he stepped next to her.
He put his hands on her shoulders, pulled her in.
"Suppose they just got tired of us stripping in the common room," Hermione said.
"Lets get some studying in," Ron said, working the buttons on her shirt.
"You just want to study those!" Hermione snapped.
"Hermione, Hermione," Ron said, as he undid the last of the buttons, "I can't think of a better way to do our schoolwork, can you?"
"In the library would've been the best!" Hermione said.
"Lets go back, bang on the tables," Ron said as his fingers traced her bosom.
"That's what you always want," Hermione said.
"A beautiful friend," Ron said, "I can definitely study to that. Can't you?"
Ron dropped his trousers in a quick move. He reached for her zipper.
"Can I?" Ron asked.
"You'd better study!" Hermione said, "Harry needs to, actually."
Ron removed her pants, knickers.
"Good idea," Ron said.
"What?" Hermione replied.
Ron took out his Hogwarts Pin, his wand.
"Grab everything," Ron said.
"Are you thinking—?" Hermione asked.
"Why not?" Ron said, "Like they'll leave us alone tomorrow, so, go there."
"I'm in," Hermione said, "What about Quidditch?"
"It's a Portkey, Hermione," Ron said.
"Of course," Hermione said.
Ron and Hermione gathered their belongings before Ron activated the Portkey. Hermione held on.
They landed in Gia's bedroom, and only Hedwig was the other occupant on her perch. A bit of laughter from downstairs, and they left the bedroom. Down the steps, through the living room, Ron and Hermione entered the dining room where Harry and Gia were
"Hello," Harry said.
"They wouldn't leave us alone to study," Hermione said.
"Mind if we crash here for the weekend?" Ron asked.
"Sure," Gia said.
Ron put his bookbag down on the table, sat next to Gia. Hermione sat across from him, next to Harry.
"You couldn't find a spot to study?" Harry said, "The Library—?"
"Nope," Ron said.
"It's a school!" Gia said.
"They accused me of funny stuff," Hermione said, "Has Harry told you the antics that've been going on? Dean Thomas having fun docking us points or threatening us with detentions. There's stealing Harry's idea to adopt a first year. Or Seamus Finnigan colluding with Draco Malfoy to botch their potion."
"You saw that?" Harry asked.
"Yes," Hermione said, "So, Ron's bright idea was to come here."
"At least here, she can study," Ron said.
"Thank you," Hermione said to Ron. She nearly crawled over, kissed Ron.
Screaming woke them all up early Saturday morning.
"ANT!" Richard yelled from his bedroom, "SHE TOOK A SHIT—!"
"Blimey," Ron muttered.
Harry, though, weaseled his way out of the group on Gia's bed. Snuffles followed Harry.
"Look at what she—" Richard started as he came out of the bedroom.
"Awake, run?" Harry asked.
"Just a moment," Richard said, as he walked into the bathroom.
Harry went down the stairs, Snuffles nudged. Harry went into the study, where Snuffles closed the door, and transformed.
"I really do appreciate being part of your life, Harry," Sirius said.
"Something wrong?" Harry asked.
"No, nothing that's not unusual," Sirius said, "Remember where I've been, you learn not to take the ordinary quite for granted as you'd otherwise might."
"What's up?" Harry said.
"I need a bit of time off from time to time too," Sirius said.
"Stressful, sleeping, chasing birds," Harry said, "I get it."
"Every new scent is one I must know, every person who approaches Gia, I must also know," Sirius said, "It seems easy, and while there are perks, it is stressful. So, if you think you can handle today and tomorrow, I'll be heading into town—London."
"Yeah, sure," Harry said.
"Keep her safe," Sirius said, just before he transformed back to Snuffles.
Harry opened the door to the study.
"There you are," Richard said.
They went out the front door, into the fresh morning.
They ran. Snuffles yipped as they went past the station, diverted off.
"So, school's been a bit…dismal," Harry said.
"They still hate you for those murders you didn't commit?" Richard asked.
"Its not just the murders," Harry said, "In past years, sure, something minor, but this year, it's been…I can't go about without my motives being questioned. It's annoying."
A left, a right, past an industrial park. They came to the airport. Richard came to a halt.
"Wasn't really planning—here," Richard said, "Care for a spin?"
"What?" Harry asked.
"Needed to do it this weekend or next," Richard said, "You know, keep my flight hours up."
Richard led the way into Ace Flight Operations. A short but thin man was behind the counter.
"Can I help you?" the man asked.
"Ivan," Richard said, "I was wondering if I could take a plane up today? Couple of hours, no where in particular."
"Need to stretch your wings? I understand," Ivan said, "Lets see what is available, sir."
"You can stop the 'sir' nonsense," Richard said, "If I wanted that, I'd tail my Mum to work."
Ivan glanced at the board, with status to each aircraft, most were green, before he opened an appointment calendar.
"All booked," Ivan said, "I can slip you into a Cessna 182 this afternoon."
"Yeah, I'll take it," Richard said, "You Harry?"
"Got practice," Harry said.
"I'll bring Jen," Richard replied.
"Alight, got you scheduled," Ivan said.
"Thanks," Richard said.
Harry and Richard left the building.
Snuffles trotted through Charing Cross Station, onto Charing Cross Road. He trotted until he found the faded sign that did not advertise. He pushed open the door, entered the Leaky Cauldron, and it was crowded.
"Can you believe what's happened in Hogsmeade?"
"Harry Potter, the Boy who Lived?"
"Can't be."
"Merlin's Beard!"
"I'd wager fifty Galleons on Holyhead Harpies."
"I'd wager fifty Galleons on Falmouth Falcons."
"You take that back! Harpies have—"
"It'll be a relief, no Knockturn Alley to worry about kids wandering down."
"Is that really Harry Potter taking a run?"
"He's all grown up."
Snuffles listened as he waited, near the back, until a wizard went for the door. Snuffles followed, through the tiny courtyard into Diagon Alley. While less crowded than right before the start of term for Hogwarts or Halloween, it was still busy. Snuffles worked his way to 93 Diagon Alley, into Weasley Wizarding Wheezes.
"I think we have some flea powder," Fred said.
Snuffles, though, went into the back.
"Did Harry Potter really kill—" asked Hestia Jones.
"I do not believe that," said Arthur Weasley, "That's out of his character, and Molly would agree with me if she were…" He paused to let out a tear.
Snuffles ducked behind the curtain, transformed, and removed the dog collar. Sirius came out, joined the group around the table.
"Why did the Minister—" Professor Tonks started to asked.
"QUIET!" Professor Dumbledore said, as loud as his hoarse voice would allow, "We unfortunately do not possess all of the information. In fact, we can't be certain of Mr. Potter's innocence aside from the trust we have all vested into that young man. Remus, fill them in."
Professor Lupin stood.
"As you know, I was…indisposed, so I was unable to go into Hogsmeade myself," Professor Lupin said, "It is the latest in a disturbing pattern that is emerging. Slanderous rumors, an attack on Potter himself, and a number of assaults are starting to occur at Hogwarts."
"There are witnesses," Professor Snape said.
"You never had faith in the boy," Professor Lupin said, "You apparently—"
"Enough!" Professor Dumbledore said, "Please continue Remus."
"We have students who believe the witnesses," Professor Lupin said, "Students who don't know Harry, to think he'd take leave of a hot girlfriend in order to go and practice slugging his chums. So, when eighteen people were attacked in Hogsmeade, twelve of whom died from their injuries, where circumstantial evidence lends itself to pointing at Harry because he was the first to respond to the scene; conclusions are being drawn."
"The Ministry is quite convinced on Mr. Potter's guilt," Kingsley Shacklebolt said.
"As would I if I were to read The Daily Prophet," Professor Lupin said, "They don't know Harry like we know Harry. Despite their proximity to the crime, there's no proof that ties them to have committed the crime, no motivation, no means from them. They were simply at the wrong place at the wrong time; whether that was accidental or deliberate is an open question."
"I sensed no doubts, no reservations, no deception, when they disputed the claim," Professor Dumbledore said, "Therefore, I am convinced that Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley are innocent. However, twelve were still murdered, and that should alarm everybody."
"Who, then, are we talking about?" Arthur Weasley said.
"Do we really need to debate who'd take interest in setting Harry up?" Sirius said, "We all know the answer."
"Please ask Lord Voldemort where he was last Saturday morning," Professor Lupin said to Professor Snape.
[1]: Credit comes from Betrayed by kateydidnt (madamauthor), the idea is being used with permission.