In the Crosshairs
Dragon Voldemort
Chapter 23: Grades
Harry ran fast out of Transfiguration Wednesday afternoon, the sixteenth. Ron and Hermione were a bit slower.
"Interesting blur," Hermione said.
"Harry's got a busy schedule," Ron said.
Ron followed Hermione into the third floor girls' lavatory.
"What are you doing?" Hermione demanded.
"Protection." Ron folded his arms and grinned
"I bet." Hermione went for a stall. "Shove off!"
Ron, though, entered the stall, closed the door. He leaned back against the door, took Hermione's glare.
"I'm serious," Ron said. He knew what he's been hearing, his brain could work it out, she needed an extra wand nearby.
The bathroom door creaked open, two pairs of footsteps came in talking. Hermione lowered her knickers while Ron crowded behind her; he didn't want his shoes to be obvious.
"I heard Potter slept with McGonagall last night!" Padma Patil told her sister.
"Seamus said Potter's bed is always empty," Parvati Patil said, "Must be true, stiffening up his Potions marks."
Ron stuffed his sleeve into his mouth to suppress his gagging. Parvati and Padma Patil entered separate stalls as the bathroom door opened.
"Heard he was caught in the act with Flitwick," Padma Patil said.
"Malcolm Baddock walked in on them," Pansy Parkinson said as she entering her own stall.
"How does he keep that schedule straight?" Padma said, "Likely taking Owl orders or something—"
"Ask Hagrid—" Parvati said.
"That oaf?!" Parkinson exclaimed.
"Lunchtime special," Parvati said.
"Disgusting but Hagrid's not the oaf," Padma Patil said, "Madam Pomfrey's been bugging Potter for more appointments—"
Flush!
Hermione flushed her toilet, which silenced the others. Ron and Hermione left the lavatory.
"Those were cruel and false," Ron said.
"It's the rumor mill," Hermione said.
Harry flew fast into his dormitory around lunchtime on Thursday the seventeenth, just after Potions. He ignored the letters and package sitting on his trunk. Ron and Hermione flew into the dormitory.
"Muggles complain about bills in their post," Harry said as he sorted through the letters on his trunk, "I'm guessing complaint, complaint, complaint."
"Rotten week?" Ron asked.
"Brilliant!" Harry snapped, "Who the fuck suggested me shagging Snape?"
"That not even funny," Ron said, "Now the one with Sprout…" Ron snickered.
"Devil's Snare shouldn't even factor in!" Harry stammered.
"Eat!" Hermione said to Harry.
"Hmph!" Harry exclaimed.
"A little syrup on you—" Ron started to say to Hermione as he grabbed a sandwich.
"No!" Hermione retorted.
"You're definitely sweet," Harry said.
"Hmph!" Hermione exclaimed. She got up, went into the lavatory.
"What?" Harry asked.
"You know how sensitive she gets," Ron said, "Are you going to open any of it?"
"Later, maybe," Harry said.
"What'd you order?" Ron asked.
"Dunno what it is," Harry said, as he grabbed the string on the package, "I'm not expecting anything."
"Lets find out," Ron said.
Harry yanked on the string. With a flash of light and a slight thud, the box and string vanished. In its place, mad and on the loose after captivity in its jail, a coiled cobra stared at Harry, threatened with its mouth and fangs.
"Yikes!" Ron jumped backward, his chair toppled, and he fell hard on his posterior, his forehead went forward and his mouth slammed into the wooden seat. "Ow—"
"Stop!" Harry snapped to the snake, a Hiss in Parseltongue.
The cobra kept its menacing gaze at Harry as Harry grabbed his wand.
"Calm down, we can send you back," Harry hissed in Parseltongue.
Instead, the cobra turned, started uncoiling as it lunged toward Ron. Harry focused his mind as the red stunning curse struck the cobra. For a moment, the cobra paused its assault as it fell, and Ron grabbed his wand. However, the snake rose again and lunged at Harry.
"Avada Kedavra!" Ron exclaimed.
Deathly green bead of magic flowed out of Ron's fourteen inch Willow wand, struck the cobra. Lifeless, the cobra colided onto the floor.
"What's going on?" Hermione asked as she returned from the lavatory, "I thought I heard—oh." Her eyes fell onto the dead snake.
Ron's foot kicked the corpse beneath Finnigan's four poster bed.
"Evidently I ticked somebody off," Harry said as he scratched the back of his head.
"I'd say so," Hermione said, "You'll report it, right?"
"Why?" Harry said, "The snake's dead."
Hermione glared.
"Lay off," Ron said, "They've got enough on their hands to worry about this."
Ash was sitting in the slightly crowded Gryffindor Common Room Friday afternoon, the eighteenth, when Owen Cauldwell came running into the common room.
"Colin, Colin!" Owen shouted.
Eyes went onto Colin and Ginny, snogging in the other corner.
"Go away!" Colin snapped.
"It's Dennis," Owen said, "He's been attacked, in the Hospital Wing."
"Any guesses?" Thomas asked as Colin ran out of the Gryffindor Common Room.
"Like you need to," Owen said.
Saturday morning, the nineteenth, Hermione and Gia approached Debenham's on High Street, a clothing retailer. They entered, went into the shirts section in front.
"Is it ever going to end?" Gia asked as she held up a light orange midriff shirt.
Hermione sighed, went further into the racks of clothes, toward the jackets.
"Harry comes home and he's in a nervous wreck," Gia said, "Very clingy, not that I mind him doing the housework starkers."
"Kristen's okay with that?" Hermione asked as she compared a longer brown jacket to a shorter one.
"It gets clean," Gia said, "No, I've been trying to use Richard's hot tub to coax Harry, but he's become a real prick about it. Finally, I had to hold his todger hostage before I could finally get him to spill."
"Good trick," Hermione bemused as she compared a leather jacket to a jumper of similar color. "Did you—?"
"Just squeeze it tight and make em swear on it," Gia said, "He was too wound up to let him in, so I made him wank instead. He confessed to the troubles—not his fault, of course, still, it is stressing him out."
They moved over to lingerie. Gia held up a lacy, revealing, brassiere.
"Ron suggested we escape school as much as possible," Hermione said, "As much of a prat and dimwit he tends to be, he can come up with clever suggestions, from time to time."
"Nothing further on this minister?" Gia asked.
"Usual," Hermione said, "He did campaign against corruption, but he's so blinded by his zeal that he—why use a flyswatter when you've got a grenade?"
"And ignore the casualties," Gia said.
"Like tossing a person into a river," Hermione said, "If they float or survive, they must be a witch, otherwise, innocent and let God sort it out."
"My bedroom door is always open," Gia said.
They continued shopping.
Ash loitered in the sixth year's boys dormitory Monday morning, the twenty first, when Harry arrived.
"Ash!" Harry exclaimed at the smiling face.
"Well," Ron said, "Not everybody hates you Harry."
"I can tell," Harry said.
"Nobody else comes here," Ash said as he sat at the table, "They're too scared."
"That bad?" Hermione asked.
"They don't even want to see you," Ash said, "Blinder Potions, a light bluish and they're being passed out by Seamus Finnigan, supposed to help one ignore your presence, take one, and I wouldn't see you, unless you attacked me."
Ash pulled some strips of bacon, some eggs, from the serving plates, ate.
"That fink!" Ron exclaimed.
"It goes from bad to worse," Hermione said.
"Meaning?" Harry asked.
"Nobody will remember seeing us," Hermione said, "No alibis, like they were volunteering them in the first place."
"Though," Ash asked, "Why not just tell everybody else what you've been doing? It's the perfect alibis."
"Would that really help?" Harry said, "They're not paying attention to what I've got to say now. Tell them I'm commuting? How soon until my attackers wage their petty little war in the streets back there? No, I'm not telling them, if ever."
Harry stood up at the end of that morning's Defense Against the Dark Arts. He walked up the steps into the office; Professor Lupin and Tonks were there. A table was in the middle, one covered with plates of food. They sat around it.
"So, where were we?" Professor Lupin asked.
"I accept that Voldemort wants me dead," Harry said, "How these assaults, murders play into it, I'm not sure."
"You'd be a fool if you weren't concerned, Harry," Professor Lupin said, "As innocent as you may be, others are still getting hurt, killed. Every student ought to be concerned."
"What if I didn't remain at Hogwarts?" Harry said, "They are, after me, not them."
"Apart from emboldening your foes," Professor Lupin said, "I suspect the stage would simply change to somewhere else, and it'd buy the students some security for a short while until Lord Voldemort desired to reclaim Hogwarts—he has reasons other than just you or the Headmaster to lust for this castle. A thousand years of wizarding history, to name one."
Ron reached for a sandwich, two feet long, steaming hot meatballs between the two halves of the large sandwich roll. He ate, trapped the cheese between his teeth.
"Don't worry Harry," Professor Tonks said, "I'm sure Albus Dumbledore will think of something, he always does, always will. In no time, we'll have iron clad proof of your innocence, and the whole matter resolved, so your classmates will come around."
"I don't think so," Harry said, "Not this time, it feels different, especially with those Blinder Potions."
"Blinders?" Professor Lupin asked.
"We've heard that Blinder Potions are being handed out," Hermione said.
"They don't want to see us, nor do I think they want to see us cleared," Harry grumbled.
"So long as they are legitimately obtained and voluntarily taken, possession is not against the school rules," Professor Tonks said.
"It bothers me that they are deliberately blinding themselves," Harry said, "They're deliberately ignoring the truth. They are falling for it, but how can they be so … gullible?"
"And so history repeats itself," Professor Lupin said, "The mere suggestion that we're in dark times is enough to send the average person into a panic. I was still in Hogwarts, I read The Daily Prophet, and the pattern is the same. The denial, the cover–ups, the pretense that everything is alright, because that's what lands the Minister job security, until the worst breaks loose."
"It's the same reason we have Dark Arts in the first place," Professor Tonks said.
"Choice," Harry said, "You can't have freedom without the choice to be dark."
"That's rather pessimistic," Hermione said.
"What else do you do?" Harry said, "Confiscate wands? Restrict them to proscribed charms only? Even a levitation charm, at the wrong moment, can do harm."
"It happened last time, people pretended that it was a lie, a hoax, a myth," Professor Lupin said, "Believe your delusion until you can believe in it no more, but in the meanwhile, that delusion can prove quite comfortable."
"Lets go hunting," Ron said.
Harry snorted.
"As people like to pretend that everything is alright," Professor Tonks said, "You've become the unfortunate scapegoat because it is the simplest explanation for their woes. An out of control teenage wizard doesn't sound too scary, something that can, indeed, be dealt with by the experts, if that were a correct diagnosis."
"Unfortunately, it isn't," Professor Lupin said, "I'm sorry Harry, you are in for some rough times ahead. Through all this, I fear for you, but I also hope for you, as I suspect your parents would."
Thursday morning, the twenty fourth, Professor Tonks turned over the board in Defense Against the Dark Arts.
"Today, an essay," Professor Tonks said, "A little consideration. Suppose you have another wizard, who you believe is about to do great harm, say, committing suicide, or about to perform a Killing Curse. Would it be ethical to use the Imperius Curse to stop them? I look forward to reading your arguments, either for or against."
"Why fret Potter?" Finnigan said, "Just let her blow you as she's talking about changing your diapers—easy marks! Wait, your dick isn't, by chance, a bit sore, is it?"
"My todger's doing just fine," Harry grumbled.
"Considering its overuse," Malfoy said.
The class chuckled and laughed.
"Do your assignments," Professor Tonks said.
"Potter!" Macmillan said, "Her office!"
"So, I heard that it's Potter and Madam Pomfrey too," Parvati Patil said.
Padma snickered.
"You ought to just show up starkers," Malfoy said that afternoon as Harry entered the Transfiguration, "Make things easier than having to drop trousers, a little alteration to her robes, and it'd make for many quickies. Imagine your marks soar then."
"Shut up Malfoy," Harry said as he took his seat. Ron and Hermione sat next to him.
"I do not know what all you have heard," Professor McGonagall said as she entered the classroom, "It is unacceptable for any member of staff to demand or accept sexual favors from any student. If you have witnessed, or been subjected to, this behavior, please write down as much as you can remember as you make out a formal complaint, and submit it to which ever member of staff you feel most comfortable accepting such complaint. Rest assured, any valid complaint will be acted upon."
"Watch out Potter!" Finnigan snapped.
"Rules don't apply to him," Macmillan said.
"Rules apply to everyone," Professor McGonagall said, "Including Mr. Potter. Now, please get out some parchment as we go over today's lesson so you can take some notes."
Professor McGonagall waved her wand, the chalk began to write as she explained. Quickly, Harry dipped his quill into the inkjar and began to doodle as he tried to listen.
Hermione glared at Harry for a moment as a broom emerged from the scratchings, a crudely drawn guy with a lightning bolt scar flew with a girl holding on to him. She returned her focus to Professor McGonagall despite Ron jabbing her in the side.
Harry glanced at Ron on the other side of Hermione, who returned the grin. Harry kept doodling as he tried to listen to the lesson.
Ring!
"Wait," Professor McGonagall said, her hand raised, as the students started to go for the door.
Professor waited for the students to stop.
"Given the events of the last visit of Hogsmeade," Professor McGonagall said, "Parental reauthorization will be required for Saturday's visit. I apologize for the tardiness of the delay, I suggest you owl your parents immediately. I have the forms here, please return them to the head of your house."
Harry waited until the others went past and grabbed the new forms.
"Mr. Weasley, I'll likely see your father tonight," Professor McGonagall said, "I can handle it."
"Ta," Ron said as Hermione grabbed a form.
Harry took a quill to a form, signed his name, Harry Potter onto the blank fo the form, dated it. Hermione rolled her eyes, Ron gaped.
"That's not going to work," Ron said.
"Why not?" Harry asked.
"This is a bit redundant for you," Professor McGonagall said.
"I authorize myself," Harry said.
Professor McGonagall sighed.
"Good day," Professor McGonagall said.
They left the classroom.
"She bought that!" Ron said, "I'm beginning to agree with Finnigan, when were you last in her quarters?"
"Ron!" Hermione said, "His legal guardians are supposed to sign—Sirius works in a pinch."
"With the Durleys—" Harry said, "Did I forget to tell you I got myself emancipated at the end of the summer?"
"I don't understand," Ron said.
Hermione, though, grinned.
"Good one," Hermione said.
"What is it?" Ron asked.
"Rights an an adult," Hermione said, "He's doesn't need guardians, though he's still liable to the underage magic restriction. Well, I need to get to the Owlery, then I'll head to the library."
Ron kissed her. Ron and Harry mounted their Firebolts, flew out of the window into the clouds surrounding the castle. They fought the wind, flew into their dormitory, the door slammed shut.
"Funny wind," Harry said as he changed into his Quidditch Robes.
"Ready?" Ron asked, already changed.
Harry and Ron went back out, flew low, until they dipped below the top of the clouds, the ground still clear, and made it to the Quidditch Pitch.
Darkness started to creep in when the whistle came out that evening.
"Everybody, time to wrap this up!" Oliver Wood announced, Professor McGonagall stood next to him.
"You heard him!" Ron shouted.
Harry flew down to Ron, nearly started to go back up.
"Ahem," Oliver Wood said, "Walk back."
Harry dismounted, glanced at Professor McGonagall's stern, unhappy face.
"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley," Professor McGonagall said, in a firm voice, "Follow me."
"What's the surprise?" Ron asked as he and Harry followed her up the hill.
"That is not funny," Professor McGonagall said.
They entered Hogwarts, went up to the first floor office. Professor McGonagall closed the door behind them. Puzzlement overcame Harry's face as his eyes focused at the items on the desk. In the middle were a number of jars, half were full of a milk white liquid, the other half merely coated in a residue of the same liquid. Professor Snape was standing beside the desk with a familiar glare upon them, a glare that was accompanied with a stern disapproving look from Professor McGonagall.
"Recognize them Potter?" Professor Snape asked, dryly.
While Ron's eyes moved from Professor Snape to the prey, Harry kept his eyes focused on the accuser.
"Containers of milk, I suppose," Harry said, "Recommend refrigeration—"
"Observe," Professor Snape ordered.
Professor Snape dipped a blank piece of parchment into the liquid, laid it down upon the desk, where they watched it rapidly dry. After a moment, the dried liquid left a fine white varnished coating upon the parchment. Professor Snape grabbed a quill, tossed it onto the parchment, and the quill touched the parchment.
BANG!
Fragmenting shards of parchment billowed upward from the flash and noise of the small explosion that left spots in their vision and ringing in their ears. Professor Snape's finger pointed to the scorched burn mark where the parchment had previously laid upon the wooden desk.
"These jars, Potter," Professor Snape said in a firm and cold tone, "Were found in both of your trunks. You covered all of the stairs of Gryffindor Tower, a stunt that sent a dozen of your house mates and one Hufflepuff boy to the Hospital Wing. Would you care to explain?"
"I am disappointed in Gryffindor," Professor McGonagall said, "I, too, am waiting."
Harry had two pairs of eyes trained at him, but Ron caught them choosing the one that had habitually been friendlier, focused directly at Professor McGonagall's.
"We did NOT do this," Harry said, "I have no—"
"We have irrefutable evidence—" Professor Snape said.
"Which you undoubtedly planted—" Harry said.
Ron's eyes darted, chimed in, trying to diffuse the growing animosity. "Anybody witness—?"
Professor Snape's glare brought the young Weasley into silence. He gripped a vial nestled in his robes.
"Can anybody significant verify your whereabouts for the day—?" Professor Snape asked.
"THAT'S—" Harry protested as his face grew redder.
"The Minister will—" Professor Snape said.
"DOING VOLDEMORT'S DIRTY WORK?!" Harry yelled, "YOU'VE WANTED ME EXPELLED FOR YEARS!"
Harry stopped to catch his breath under Professor Snape's studying eyes.
"Get a grip on your temper—" Professor McGonagall said.
"WHY SHOULD I?" Harry yelled, "HE'S FOUND A WAY TO MAKE HIS DREAMS COME TRUE! CONGRATULATIONS!"
Snape grabbed a filled jar and lifted it up.
"Unequivocal proof—" Professor Snape said.
WHOOSH!
In a sudden surge, the white liquid swelled up and lunged. Like throwing paint, the liquid splashed and soaked Harry's Quidditch Robes. Professor Snape drew his wand.
"Don't move—" Professor Snape warned.
"HURRY UP!" Harry yelled, "VOLDEMORT WILL BE PLEASED!"
BANG!
Harry's Quidditch robes disintegrated, his white T–shirt and briefs were singed with burnt brown spots, spots that continued to enlarge, his flesh was starting to show. Harry shook for a moment, blinked, and shook his head. Professor McGonagall blinked for a moment at the teenager.
"Severus!" Professor McGonagall scolded, "What have you done?! Assaulting a student—Albus must be informed—"
Professor Snape sunk back slightly, eyes were wide upon her.
"I would never—" Professor Snape protested.
"Seems to me that you just did," Ron said, seizing the opportunity, "You clearly had the opportunity, the motive, the method, and two eyewitnesses to the assault—unless your intentions were of a sexual—"
Harry scowled at Ron, Professor Snape glared.
"Take me for a fool?" Professor Snape said, "Extortion—"
"Conjecture," Ron replied.
"Fifty points for digging your grave—" Professor Snape sneered.
"Severus!" Professor McGonagall snapped.
Professor Snape went silent.
"I am seeing Albus immediately," Professor McGonagall said, "Mr. Potter, the stairs in Gryffindor Tower have been cleared, so you should return there to remedy your situation."
Professor McGonagall walked quickly, left the office door ajar as she departed. Professor Snape turned his glare onto Harry and Ron.
"Your Head of House may be buying your load of bollocks," Professor Snape said, "I am not. Potter, you've—"
"Professor McGonagall?"
Leading the charge through the door, Ginny opened and entered with an entourage behind her. All eyes of the intruders quickly glanced from either Professor Snape or Ron and focused upon Harry standing in front of Professor Snape as the brown spots of the white fabric of the underwear finished dissolving away any protection, which left Harry standing starkers with a firm stiffy.
Professor Snape's eyes turned upon the intruders, Ginny was with a small entourage including the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.
"Boning up on Potions—?" Josh Brenner asked.
"Sorry…" Ginny muttered as she started to retreat.
"Wait!" Ron said, recognizing the opportunity, "Snape suggested he'd expel us unless Harry complied—"
Mutterings erupted among the Gryffindors.
"Go!" Professor Snape barked.
"You were being a bit obvious," Oliver Wood said to Professor Snape.
Wood moved fast, vanished from the glare, as Harry led the way out of the office. Harry's hands tried to hide the stiffy.
"We could use company, sis—" Ron said.
"Why'd you say that?!" Harry demanded.
Ginny sped then kept pace
Ron shrugged. "Seemed the best way to save face—"
"By CONFIRMING EVERY DAMN DIRTY RUMOR?!" Harry yelled.
"Sorry," Ron apologized.
Harry broke out in a run. He quickly ran out of view, so neither Ron nor Ginny could see him.
"And you've got nothing to be ashamed of!" Ginny shouted down the corridor.
"Gin!" Ron snapped.
"Should he and his girl ever split—" Ginny said, "With his todger, he'd have his pick—"
"You aren't supposed to—" Ron started.
"Saw yours in action—remember?" Ginny said, "I don't see what Hermione likes—"
"Prat!" Ron shoved Ginny.
Ron and Ginny came to the Fat Lady.
"Bang," Ginny said.
The portrait moved, they entered.
"Coming to finish the job?" Finnigan asked.
Ron ignored him, went up the stairs, Ginny followed. Hermione glanced up from the table as Ron entered the sixth year boy's dormitory.
"Rotten luck," Hermione said, "Not sharing Harry's new Quidditch uniform, are you?"
"Did you hear—?" Ginny asked.
Hermione shook her head. Ginny describe the scene of Harry standing starkers in front of Professor Snape.
"You must have seen it wrong," Hermione said.
Roasted turkey appeared on the table.
"She saw it," Ron said, "Dinner."
"Professor Snape is not going to live this down for a long time," Ginny said, "You eat up here—?"
"All the time," Hermione said, "It's too dangerous for us."
"Your absence is proof of guilt," Ginny said, "Or so Dean Thomas said."
"It's simpler this way," Hermione said as she swirled her cup of pumpkin juice, "How much would it take to convince them otherwise? Could we do it in time not to starve first? I'm sure they'll twist the thing with Snape, even with the history of bad blood against Harry."
"Eating up here has other benefits," Ron said.
"Such as—?" Hermione started, before her eyes caught Ron's beneath his grin, "What?"
"I'm sorry, I totally forgot the appetizer," Ron said as he began to lift Hermione's shirt.
"I'm intruding—" Ginny started.
"Stay, see your brother in action," Ron said, moving Hermione's butt to his lap.
"Really," Ginny said, "Colin's visiting his brother in the Hospital Wing, I best be going."
Ginny left.
"So, what do you think will happen because of today?" Hermione asked.
"Potions will get even more tense," Ron said, "Professor Snape's not going to be happy."
"Headmaster," Professor Snape said as he entered the office within the twoer, "I had nothing—"
"Severus!" Professor Dumbledore commanded just after Professor reached the desk.
"Albus! We cannot tolerate—" Professor McGonagall said.
"Patience!" Professor Dumbledore waited until both Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall stopped their mumbling under their breaths. "It seems that we have two incidents. The first concerning the manufacture and placement of the harmful substance. The second is regarding Severus' behavior toward Mr. Potter. Am I correct?"
"Yes, Headmaster," Professor Snape said.
"This explosive, it was found on the steps of Gryffindor Tower," Professor Dumbledore said, "Is this accurate?"
"Yes, Headmaster," Professor Snape said.
"Unequivocally yes," Professor McGonagall said.
"This liquid and its associated paraphernalia were found in both Mr. Potter's and Mr. Weasley's trunks, right?" Professor Dumbledore asked.
"Yes," Professor McGonagall said.
"Under normal circumstances," Professor Dumbledore said, "If these were normal students, I would concur with expulsion, or if sufficiently plea bargained, an extended suspension. Do the both of you concur?"
"Yes, Headmaster," Professor Snape said, as dry as usual.
"Unfortunately I would have to agree with my colleague," Professor McGonagall said.
"These are not normal students nor normal circumstances," Professor Dumbledore said, "There are many parties, including students in this school, desiring the removal of Mr. Potter and his friends from these corridors. As I understand it, their trunks were found to have been locked?"
"Yes, Headmaster," Professor Snape said.
"Yet we know they generally keep them unlocked, right?" Professor Dumbledore asked.
"Yes, Headmaster," Professor Snape said.
"There is sufficient evidence to suggest that they are being framed," Professor Dumbledore said, "This is not the first time this occurred, is it?"
"I am uncertain," Professor Snape said.
"I apologize Albus," Professor McGonagall said, "I got caught up, seeing the young members of my house, I forgot to use reason."
"Please see to the press release," Professor Dumbledore said to Professor McGonagall.
"Of course," Professor McGonagall said. She left.
Professor Dumbledore turned his blue eyes back to Professor Snape.
"Severus," Professor Dumbledore asked, "Are you aware of anything further from other people?"
"As I said last month, Headmaster," Professor Snape said, "They have desisted explicitly targeting Potter."
"You mean just for his murder?" Professor Dumbledore said, "Of what has happened so far, it's clear they wish to tarnish Mr. Potter's image, erode his support. Exactly how this fits into their grander plans, I'm left with guesses, but none are cheerful to say the least. The only way to counter is to have unequivocal proof, even if it only convinces his schoolmates here at Hogwarts, that is where we'll have to begin.
"No, Mr. Riddle does intend to kill Harry. For, in the end, Mr. Riddle's aspirations leave him with no choice in that outcome."
"What are you still doing here?" Finnigan demanded of Harry, Friday afternoon as they queued up for Potions.
"Excuse me?" Harry asked.
"People hurt, people killed, all because of you," Finnigan said, finger pointed at Harry, "If it weren't for you being here, none of this would be happening! I don't feel secure in my own house, my own bed, because of you! I thought we meant something to you, guess that was just another lie from you."
"Buzz off!" Ron exclaimed.
"Why it's Potter's puppet!" Macmillan said.
"You're deluding yourselves if you think the teachers will act," Malfoy said.
"Who'd you bang last night?" Thomas asked Harry.
"None of your business," Harry said.
"Snape?" Parvati Patil asked.
"That is Professor Snape," Professor Snape said as he came along, "Do not discuss my personal life which does not include Mr. Potter. Ten points from Gryffindor."
"Likely the least stressful point of this lesson," Ron said to Harry.
"Thanks Ron," Harry said.
"Watch your temper," Hermione said.
"I try to," Harry said.
They entered the Potions classroom.
Grins on their faces, both Harry and Gia left the Noigate swimming pool that afternoon when Nate caught up with them.
"Maybe, just maybe, the coach won't find out," Nate said, "Just banging—"
"Couldn't help ourselves," Harry said.
"Obviously," Nate said, "Sex at the pool and you're expecting privacy?"
Harry shook his head.
"Later," Gia said to Nate.
Nate left.
"Okay, for once, I might have an appetite," Harry said.
"We're taking it," Gia said, leading him along High Street.
They entered the Persian Mirage.
"Hold a plate," Gia said as they approached the buffet.
Harry held the warm plate in his hands, she dumped on rice, tandoori chicken, and buttered chicken. Some naan, and they went to sit at a table, same side next to each other.
"Do I need to—?" Gia asked as she grabbed a fork.
"Fun?" Harry asked.
Gia put a bit of the cut buttered chicken onto a fork, fed it into Harry's open mouth. Harry took the fork, added rice to the chicken, held it to Gia's mouth, and she ate. They snickered.
"Thanks for not fussing on this," Gia said as she loaded up a spoon with rice, fed it to Harry.
"Believe it or not, I can get hungry," Harry said.
"Not often?" Gia asked.
"No," Harry said.
"I don't need a degree in magic to know it's not good for you in the long run," Gia said, "So, I welcome this. Though—this is finger food."
She grabbed the tandoori chicken, ate, as her fingers tips were reddened from it. Harry leaned over, licked her fingers. She giggled. Harry ate some of the tandoori chicken, put his fingers onto her skin, studied the marks left behind.
"Tomorrow—we'll shag in The Three Broomsticks," Harry said.
"Um…is that wise?" Gia said, "Last time didn't exactly go well."
"If I don't go, then I'd be cowering in fear," Harry said, "No, besides, Honeydukes has good candy."
"Alright," Gia said.
Harry was less certain, of course, however, he never finished showing her the village, and it'd be worth it. Gia tore off a strip of the naan, brought it to his mouth.