In the Crosshairs
Dragon Voldemort
Chapter 35: DADA Talk
HOOT! HOOT!
Harry woke up on the carpeted floor Wednesday morning, blankets piled to either side, with Hedwig above him showing off her freshly caught meal in her beak.
"That's nice Hedwig," Harry said.
Harry held his sore head, felt the drinks of the previous night, gave out a slight moan. Gia's head came over the edge of the bed, on her hands and knees, with her eyes steadied down on him.
Crunch! Crunch!
Hedwig chewed at the shrew while Harry's studied Gia's eyes.
"Per your insistence," Gia remarked.
"What?" Harry stammered.
"I talked you out of taking all the blankets," Gia said.
"Ta," Harry said as he stood up.
"Enjoy your run," Gia remarked.
Harry left the bedroom, went down the stairs where Kristen was waiting.
"I need to talk with you, Harry," Kristen said, "I had a rather strange encounter last night while making my rounds. A stranger seemed to be aware that you're planning a holiday."
"Really?" Harry asked, curious. Snuffles' head perked up from beside the fireplace.
"Caught me having a bite in the park," Kristen said, "Yes, even at night, there's misbehavior in those places. Didn't show his face, though."
"Sounds shady," Richard said.
"Kept his hood drawn up," Kristen said, "Not illegal to do so, even at night, but we got to talking about you two. He's trying to do good for the son of a good chum he lost just after he left school, that'd he'd give anything to go back and spend even a week. He suggested that I bless your trip."
Harry had a hunch to who that fellow was, which calmed his nerves.
"That'd be nice, Mum," Richard said. "How much did he know?"
"Quite a bit," Kristen said, "He and you are right, an occasional trip can be warranted. The question is, do you have the bollocks to handle the responsibility?"
Richard swallowed.
"Yes," Richard stated.
"I expect full details, tonight," Kristen said.
"You'll get enough," Harry said, "Thank you."
Kristen walked past them, up the steps. They went out for their run.
"What?" Ron asked as they landed in the Gryffindor sixth year boys' dormitory.
"You took Harry away—didn't come back until after I had gone to sleep," Hermione said.
"I thought I had explained it," Ron said, "That his temper was building, I did it for your own safety."
"Safety?" Hermione stammered, "Since when are you worried about that?"
"Blimey?" Harry asked as he landed, "You're hanging out with me and worried about safety?"
"Glad you agree with me," Hermione said to Harry.
"I'm staying out of this," Harry pulled his hands back and up.
"Come on, lets go," Ron stated.
"Hurry up so we're not late for class," Hermione said.
"We're going to be late," Ron said.
"No!" Hermione protested.
"Come," Ron said.
They went for the door.
"Did he forget to tell you?" Harry grumbled to Hermione, "He scheduled us a meeting with Lupin."
"When?" Hermione asked.
"Five minutes ago," Ron replied as he stopped them.
"And class?" Hermione asked.
"Do you remember what I discussed in the shower?" Ron said to her, "Don't you think it's a tad important to talk to—them?"
"Of course," Hermione replied.
"Class," Harry said.
"You promised!" Ron pointed to Harry. They left the dormitory. "Any theories?"
"Tonks?" Harry asked.
"Defense Against the Dark Arts?" Hermione asked.
"Wouldn't be the first time we've had well acquainted experts," Harry remarked.
"You seem anxious to talk, Harry," Professor Lupin said as Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered his office.
Harry closed the door.
"What do you know about Tonks?" Ron asked.
"That is Professor Tonks, Mr. Weasley," Professor Lupin asked, his eyes on those familiar bottle green eyes, "Why the concern?"
"We know Voldemort has a plant at Hogwarts," Hermione said.
"We think it's her," Harry said.
"That is a … serious accusation," Professor Lupin said, fiddled with his hands in his pockets, "Others fit the profile better, Professor Snape, for instance—if you're correct."
"Snape overestimates his importance," Harry said, "If it's not him, then it has to be somebody else. Tonks is so new—"
"If only James and Lily could hear this." Professor Lupin grabbed the large coffee mug from his desk, and a sandwich. "Pardon my breakfast."
"We know that Voldemort has a plant, an agent, here here, somebody who's acting against our interests," Hermione said, "Of the three new teachers, Professor Tonks—"
"James and Lily Potter trusted her," Professor Lupin said, "Molly and Arthur Weasley even used her as a secret keeper. I trust Nymphadora Tonks—"
"You trusted Pettigrew!" Harry snapped.
Professor Lupin's sullen eyes took on Harry's for a moment.
"Listen," Professor Lupin said, "Professor Dumbledore trusts Tonks for good reason. At every opportunity, at every choice I have witnessed, she has always fought against Voldemort, like you do, without hesitation and at the risk of her own life. Now, could she be an impostor, or twisted—anything is possibly, but highly unlikely. Do you have anything of substance regarding her?"
"No, nothing," Harry said.
"We've had teachers go sour before," Ron said.
Professor Lupin dipped his sandwich into the coffee, took a bite, ate.
"Hogwarts should not be proud of that," Professor Lupin said, "You're asking questions though, something we fail to do all too often. Severus is a Death Eater—"
"No," Harry said, "Voldemort doubts Snape's intentions—when I see Snape through his eyes, Voldemort hesitates and reluctant to share anything of importance."
"Have you discussed this with Professor Dumbledore…" Professor Lupin's eyes steadied upon Harry's stare, felt those bottle greens searching with a stare he had seen before, in James Potter. "…you haven't," Professor Lupin continued, "You're sixteen and you think you can take on the world—maybe you can, but don't be a damn fool about it! Keep him aware of what's going on and listen to what he's got to say. Now, will you tell him?" Professor Lupin knew better than to level a threat.
"After—" Harry started.
"Now?" Professor Lupin said, "Trust me, listening to what you have to say is exactly what the Headmaster wishes to do. I can accompany you, if you'd like."
"Whatever," Harry said as he went for the door, "In an hour."
"An hour will do nicely," Professor Lupin said as Harry, Ron, and Hermione left.
Though Professor Lupin remembered being sixteen, the years had taken its toll, so getting Harry to commit was enough. He carried his self–refilling coffee cup and a sandwich across the corridor, entered the office of Professor Tonks.
"Remus?" Professor Tonks asked, as she dipped her quill into a jar of red ink.
"Nymphadora—" Professor Lupin started.
"I told you I hate that name," Professor Tonks said, her eyes glanced up at him, glared.
"Just had the most interesting conversation," Professor Lupin said as he leaned over her desk, "You were accused of being in bed with You–Know–Who."
"What?!" Professor Tonks stammered as she put her quill down, "By who?"
"Where do your allegiances lie?" asked Professor Lupin before he sipped his coffee.
"Why are you even asking?" Professor Tonks retorted.
"It's a germane question, for just about everyone," Professor Lupin said, "Do you still believe in the leadership and the example of Godric Gryffindor?"
"Of course," Professor Tonks said.
"Yesterday several of your students had a malicious letter bomb delivered to them," Professor Lupin said, "Yet you punished them, with no intention of determining its origin."
"I…" Professor Tonks stuttered.
"You know as well as I do that Voldemort was not vanquished fifteen years ago," Professor Lupin said, "He was prepared for the possibility of a person trying to kill him, used the darkest of magics to keep his soul anchored into the realm of the living—I merely trust that Albus Dumbledore knows how, because I will not research it myself."
"If you're trying to get me to excuse their misbehavior, you're barking up the wrong tree," Professor Tonks said.
"You, of all people, should know how easy it is to impersonate another," Professor Lupin said.
"It's not that easy," Professor Tonks said, "Looks, sure, but you have to act, respond like them, otherwise, the ruse rarely works."
"But if all the audience knows is your appearance—even something as basic as Polyjuice potion lets you do that, you could do anything," Professor Lupin said, "We have reliable intelligence that You–Know–Who is conducting such a campaign as we speak, here, at Hogwarts."
"What?" Professor Tonks stammered.
"Think about it!" Professor Lupin said, "In addition to having an actor here, he has one in the Ministry poisoning the Minister for Magic! Both actors are collaborating together, coordinating, and they've been persistent. Think how powerful that could be!"
"Blimey!" Professor Tonks said.
"This isn't the first time Voldemort's tried to kill the boy—he tried fifteen years ago at the cost of Lily and James!" Professor Lupin said, "I understand it's been tried every year he's been in attendance of Hogwarts! You really think You–Know–Who's given up? Not him. He's got a new plan, and this time, it could be very effective, as Harry's now being portrayed as a menace! Some of the students want him gone, and now, even you…falling for it!"
"I hadn't considered—" Professor Tonks said, "All these incidents."
"Some while Harry's been absent from Hogwarts," Professor Lupin said, "Given Harry's character and what Albus Dumbledore knows about his schedule, it's very reasonable to conclude that every single incident was staged! We know there's no limit on how much Polyjuice potion you can consume, you just need an surreptitious means to collect enough bits of them to have an adequate supply to fit your deeds."
"You're saying they won't stop until they're stopped?" Professor Tonks said, "I'd love to talk, but I need to get these assignments corrected. Perhaps talk more about this, over dinner at the Three Broomsticks?"
"You know why I don't go out," Professor Lupin said.
"Simply dinner," Professor Tonks said.
"Rarely is it simple with you, Nymphadora," Professor Lupin said.
"Prat," Professor Tonks snapped.
"That doesn't address your attitude with Harry," Professor Lupin said.
"What do you suggest?" Professor Tonks demanded.
"I'm not saying you have to make it easy for Harry," Professor Lupin said, "In fact, it's best to push him as best as you can, carrot or stick, depending on circumstances."
"Keep it up after you complained?" Professor Tonks asked.
"I'm already viewed as sympathetic toward him, likely because of the reminder of my dear friends," Professor Lupin said, "If the students are to freely share anything they discover, they must feel like one of us will listen—you've already established your bias, best to play along."
"You've got me confused," Professor Tonks said.
"Chess isn't for the light of heart," Professor Lupin replied.
Professor Lupin left his coffee cup behind, went out the door, down to the second floor, and gave the password to the Stone Gargoyle. He entered the Headmaster's office a few moments later.
"Harry promised to be along, shortly," Professor Lupin said.
"Interesting it took the tenacity of a certain red haired boy to prod Mr. Potter," Professor Dumbledore remarked.
"Bears a strong resemblance to the fire Mrs. Weasley could conjure up in her heart," Professor Lupin remarked.
"Every person has strengths and weaknesses," Professor Dumbledore said, "Unity—"
Hestia Jones came in fast, her handkerchief mopped tears off her face.
"Hestia?" Professor Dumbledore asked.
"Sorry, I'm so sorry," Hestia Jones said, "I got—I got fired!"
"I'm truly sorry, my condolences," Professor Lupin said.
"Is it related to…?" Professor Dumbledore started.
Hestia Jones' eyes stayed focused on the blue eyes of the old man behind the desk.
"I—I patrolled the Department of Mysteries," Hestia Jones said, "Like you had wanted, when I noticed the prophecy was indeed missing. I started checking the security records when Clarke found me out. I was fired on the spot—he seemed more concerned about protocols than irregularities—"
"What irregularities?" Professor Lupin asked.
"I'm sorry—I don't recall," Hestia Jones, "They seemed funny, but I didn't have time…"
"Understood," Professor Dumbledore said, "I suggest a good tea with Minerva, after that, I do have something that should take your mind off of it."
"Thank you." Hestia Jones left the office.
Professor Lupin's eyes flickered, studied the desk for a moment.
"Things—it must all be related somehow," Lupin said, "Plants at the Ministry, Hogwarts—"
"It means that Voldemort has learned from his past mistakes," Professor Dumbledore said, "Though it's abated a bit in the moment, he's turning the student sentiment against the one who could smite him."
"If that's all the plant is doing," Professor Lupin started, "Harry's better than that."
"Unfortunately," Professor Dumbledore said, "That is not all this person is up to."
"Ready?" Ron asked Harry as they approached the Stone Gargoyle.
"I'd rather not make a fuss every time my head itches," Harry grumbled as they got on.
"Hands down, it's the best thing we've got," Ron replied, "You've even got Hermione scouring the library for precedent."
"Exactly how many failed Killing Curses have there been?" Harry asked.
"Serious ones?" Ron said as they entered the Headmaster's office. While Professor Lupin was nearby, the Headmaster was already sitting at his desk.
"Your situation is unique, Harry," Professor Dumbledore said, "While I think Miss. Granger's research will not bear fruit in this regard, perhaps she will uncover something else of equally valuable use."
"Optimist," Ron sputtered.
"You had an interesting revelation," Professor Lupin said to Harry.
"Your scar," Ron said as he pushed Harry's shoulder to force a step forward.
"Please elaborate Harry," Professor Dumbledore said.
"Seems so trivial—" Harry said.
"While a single glimpse is unlikely to be useful," Professor Dumbledore said, "The group of them could yield the insight needed to solve our puzzle. Does Voldemort have people at Hogwarts?"
"Yes," Harry said, "A plant and his doubles, though a double could be the plant. Not just Hogwarts—the Ministry as well….that could be—that's likely how he got the prophecy!"
"Percy Weasley was recently hired," Professor Lupin said.
"Percy's merely stuck up!" Ron protested, "He's not going to crawl to You–Know–Who!"
"You misunderstand," Professor Lupin said, "Like him, we need resources too."
"We're not—" Harry protested.
"War is never a clean affair," Professor Dumbledore said, "In the future, Mr. Potter, I would appreciate being informed in a more prompt fashion—a simple owl post would suffice. Our entire fate could be sealed by the delay of information that would otherwise seem trivial. Am I making myself understood?"
"Yes," Harry said.
"If you excuse me, I do have a lesson to prepare for," Professor Lupin said as he left.
"As to our discussion yesterday," Professor Dumbledore said to Harry, "Have you reconsidered?"
Ron perfectly understood the message, figured the Headmaster was about to force Ron's hand.
"Blimey!" Ron said, "Somebody at the Ministry, what next, have the Minister force you to stop dating?"
"Don't go putting ideas into their heads!" Harry snapped.
"We do have…things to get back to," Ron said.
Harry and Ron left.
"Why'd you put that idea out there?" Harry said as they went down the steps, "Wanting to force me and Gia to break up?"
"No," Ron said, as they stepped off, "It's not a far stretch, though, from what the Minister wrote about who you should date; them forcing it is next."
"I don't want to consider it!" Harry snapped.
"Sure, ignore it," Ron said, "Then it happens—either talk about it, or, discuss what Dumbledore was about to talk to us about."
"Neither!" Harry said, angrily.
"Know what I'd do?" Ron asked.
"What?!" Harry asked.
"Marry her!" Ron said.
"Marriage? Now?" Harry said, "No…depends on, things, I suppose."
Harry and Ron entered the Library, sat next to Hermione.
"Where is it?" the Seeker demanded to the green face in the fire Thursday morning, with Harry's red Weasley jumper draped over his arm.
"All parcels are being inspected," said Wormtail.
"Whose fault was that? Inciting hate mail—" the Seeker said.
"This is about more than your personal vendetta!" the Keeper snapped at the Seeker.
"Those idiots are getting restless and chief fatuus is having trouble recruiting," the Seeker said, "Do either of you want to explain to the Dark Lord why this plan is about to fall apart due to lack of deliveries?"
"You had ample supply," the Keeper said.
"Just use—" Wormtail started.
"Somebody hoodwinked you with paint thinner," the Seeker said, "We need to keep this fire going, or the plan is lost."
"You'll have it tonight," Wormtail said.
"Better," the Seeker said, "Can't trust the Potions Master to brew it now, can I?"
"No," Wormtail said.
"Gives me time to practice my voice," the Seeker said.
"Keep up the pressure," the Keeper added.
Green faces vanished, and the Seeker rushed to hide the jumper.
Harry entered the Headmaster's office later that morning. Professor Dumbledore eased himself over to the armchairs. Harry sat on the armchair across the coffee table.
"Good morning," the Headmaster said.
"Morning," Harry replied.
"How goes the domestic life?" Professor Dumbledore asked.
"Huh?" Harry muttered.
"Given your commute, I'm merely curious," Professor Dumbledore said.
Rarely is he simply curious, Harry bemused to himself.
"Okay," Harry said, "Ant, the girl there, she ran away last week. Kristen, the woman, is…well, her daughter's missing."
"You didn't—?" Professor Dumbledore asked.
"She's had that search under control," Harry said, "Ant's done this before, not this long."
"I'll have…" Professor Dumbledore paused. "Some other friends made aware, just enough to prod the search, not to interfere with you."
"Ta," Harry said.
"After all, the secrecy decrees merely restrict Muggles witnessing magic," Professor Dumbledore stated.
Harry realized he was becoming a bit casual with it around Gia. Harry recognized the penetrating twinkle from those blue eyes for what it was, the likeness of Professor Snape at the tip of the mind. Harry glanced at the tea pot.
"How silly of me to not offer," Professor Dumbledore poured a couple cups of tea. His shaky hands trembled, handed it over.
Harry avoided the gaze, concentrated on the mug, with tea leaves at the bottom. Curious, Harry guzzled it down, studied the tea leaves that remained.
"I never really got the hang of it," Harry said.
"Divination is a tricky area of magic," Professor Dumbledore said, "A master of Legilimency could really scam the muggles, don't you agree?"
"Um…yeah," Harry said, not really wanting to be a con–artist as there were plenty of those hanging about already.
"You need to talk to Professor Snape about your Occlumency lessons," Professor Dumbledore said, "This is no longer optional."
"I will not be studying with him," Harry stood as he talked, "If that's a requirement, we can talk to Professor McGonagall about rearranging my schedule, because I will not comply."
"Harry, your refusal to learn is an unmitigated risk we can't afford to continue taking," Professor Dumbledore said, "I cannot continue lessons without assurances. Professor Snape is your only option—"
"And get him killed?" Harry said, "He's not as skilled as he thinks he is, or more so than Voldemort realizes. I practice with Snape and news of my commute will leak into The Daily Prophet within a week—what then? No, find somebody else."
"There is nobody else," Professor Dumbledore said.
"Then write a letter," Harry said, "I'll see Professor McGonagall—maybe correspondence is the right way, do it with Hermione's help."
Harry left the office.
Tap! Tap!
Professor McGonagall heard it, the characteristic tapping of the cane, she knew the owner, heavy breathing carried him to the top of the Astronomy Tower. Below were the handfuls of students enjoying the last hour of the afternoon before the darkness of the pending evening.
"I seem to have lost my knack in dealing with sixteen year old wizards," said Professor Dumbledore.
"Dare I have to ask his name?" Professor McGonagall replied, she already knew the topic as her eyes spotted the figure flying a Firebolt fast near the Quidditch pitch. A familiar face with a Quaffle beneath his arm. "I thought Ravenclaws were scheduled for practice today."
"I trust Mr. Wood is working out?" Professor Dumbledore asked.
"Excellent," Professor McGonagall said, "He's new, of course, so he needs a hand from time to time, however, he contributes way more than required."
"His ninety day performance review will happen shortly," Professor Dumbledore said, "Keep him?"
"Absolutely," Professor McGonagall said, "However, he's not the one you wished to discuss, is he?"
She knew the Headmaster had a knack for snooping out buried thoughts; how, she did not fathom. However, even she didn't need that knack to know the primary concern of Albus Dumbledore. It wasn't his impending mortality, but instead, his legacy, one he needed a sixteen year old wizard's help, a wizard by the name of Harry Potter.
"I wanted to ask him into our little group," Professor Dumbledore said, "Instead, he's being a teenager."
"Typical, you mean," Professor McGonagall said. Over the decades of her career at Hogwarts, she knew how thick headed a boy can get.
"Without lessons from Severus, Harry becomes a threat to us," Professor Dumbledore said, "Yet—"
"You're expecting those two to get along?" Professor McGonagall said, "I'd say that Potter is behaving rationally. If you gave me some insight, perhaps I could coach the boy."
"I do not have enough time to teach you," Professor Dumbledore said, "Even if I did, I would become unable to protect Harry in ways he does not see, not yet."
"You've obviously tried everything you've thought of to get through to Potter," Professor McGonagall said, "Unless you change your thinking, you won't succeed."
"Then I fear we'll lose Harry to Voldemort," Professor Dumbledore said.
"Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" Hermione asked, as she stood next to Gia by the front door to 26 Oak St, in Noigate. Both Harry and Ron were in the living room, bare foot.
"Tempting," Ron said.
"We're sure," Harry quipped.
Gia gave Harry a quick kiss. She and Hermione left; Harry closed the door.
"So, what's so important?" Ron said, "We need to fit up our suits—apparently we need suits?"
"This way," Harry said.
Ron followed Harry up the stairs. Harry grabbed a package from the bedroom and their wands, before he returned to the landing. Harry reached for a cord near the ceiling, pulled down on a trapdoor. A ladder descended. Harry climbed up the ladder; Ron followed.
"We've been getting a bit…sloppy," Harry said, "Needed a spot…"
Ron's bare feet stepped onto the loose rough cut lumber in the center with a pair of thin pillows in the middle. Harry drew up the ladder, closed the trapdoor, and it went nearly dark. Harry, however, tugged on the strand of chain, lit up the single light bulb up in the peak of the timbered roof.
"Attic or loft," Harry said as he sat cross–legged onto a thin pillow on the boards, motioned for Ron to sit. "Spacious enough, and given that people rarely come up here, it's a good place to practice."
"What kind of magic have you been doing?" Ron asked as he sat in front of Harry on the other pillow.
"Yet again, guess who's been pushing Snape onto me?" Harry said, "No, I'm not having it, at least, not yet. Though he owled these, guess he's trying to guilt trip me?"
Harry opened the package, showed the two books, Advanced Occlumency and the other Advanced Legilimency.
"What the hell, go with Snape," Ron said, "He knows—"
"Polishing a turd would be more fun," Harry snapped.
Ron snorted.
"He'd fish every memory out of me and give me a detention for each one!" Harry said, "We can do better. We duel."
Ron grinned as they stood back up, took two steps back from each other, wand raised.
"How far?" Ron asked.
"Don't let up, don't go easy, everything is fair game," Harry said, "Legilimens!"
Ron felt this Rockweiler of a spell tear into his mind seeking its favorite bone, when it found it.
"They're gone!" Cornelius Fudge yelled as Harry and Cedric vanished.
"This isn't supposed to happen," Hermione said.
"Likely a Champion prize," Ron said.
"No—" Hermione pointed at Professor Dumbledore's expression "—he's concerned, so it's trouble."
"It's Harry, he's always—"
"Exactly."
A flicker later, the memory warped to seeing Harry reappear and holding Cedric's corpse.
"He's Dead" People shouted in the stands.
Good, Ron thought—
Harry was on on his back on the floor, legs into the air, laughing. Ron scratched his head for a moment, uncertain to why this was happening, but simply shrugged for the only thing he could think of.
"Finite Incantatem," Ron said.
"Your Tickling Charm—" Harry said as he stood back up, "Why'd you think good?"
"You said this'd get intimate!" Ron said, "You've got it—I ain't perfect—"
"Never said you were," Harry said, "We all have our moments—come on and try it on me."
They kept practicing for hours, until the final round, with their wands drawn, when they both simultaneously shouted, "Legilimens!"
Wicked, Ron thought.
Yeah, Harry retorted.
We both said—
Yep—
Who'll break this—
Dunno—
After we skinny dip in the hot tub with the girls—? Ron inquired.
Like I need this to know your thoughts—
This could be useful—
"Finite Incantatem!" Harry said, "A later time…"
Harry held his hand up as they heard footsteps on the stairs below, they peeked through the edge of the trap door. Gia and Richard climbed the stairs. Jen was on the bottom landing next to Hermione.
"Any word on Ant?" Gia asked.
"Nope," Richard said, "Mum's—well, obviously she filed the missing person report last week, but like that'll be of help—"
"She hasn't scolded him once, not yet," Jen said, leading Hermione up the stairs, "So there's one advantage."
Richard grinned slightly as he led all three girls into his bedroom.
"I heard you came home last night dripping in mud," Hermione said.
"Mum mopped it up this morning," Richard said, "You'd think she'd do more—not that I'm complaining."
"Has Ant done this before?" Hermione asked.
Richard pushed on his bedroom door, brought it to a near close, the shaft of the deadbolt hit the door jam. Harry slowly lowered the trapdoor, but not the ladder.
"Yes," Gia said.
Harry slowly lowered himself, holding the edge of the opening, until he dangled. Ron readied himself.
"But not like this," Richard said, "Normally a day…I think a day and a half was the record, before this."
Harry dropped to the floor, his toes took out as much of the noise as he could. Ron jumped.
"Hear something?" Jen asked.
Harry nudged the trapdoor, the springs pulled the rope out of his hands.
SLAM!
Hermione opened the door.
"Harry! Ron!" Hermione scolded, "You scared the heck out of us when a simple 'Hello' would suffice!"
"Hey, I've been doing the research!" Richard said as he picked up a three ring binder full of paper, opened it, and pointed at a print out. "Ski resort, good for beginners like you. I've got a flight plan ready to file. We don't have skis, that sort."
"I'll have a crisis of confidence Saturday," Hermione said, "Dad'll—"
SLAM!
Harry turned, the noise came from downstairs.
"I WAS DOING FINE!" Andy screamed.
"Blimey!" Richard whispered, "And I was hoping they wouldn't find her."
Richard crept first out of his bedroom, Ron and Harry followed, to glance down the stairwell. In her police uniform, Kristen stood just inside the door, while Andy was on the lower step with her ear being tightly gripped. Andy's skimpy red dress left little to the imagination as the short skirt portion was thin and translucent.
"Andrea Fianna Osborn," Kristen said, "You had us worried—"
"I"M FOURTEEN!" Andy shouted, her glare fuming at Kristen, "I CAN LEAVE IF I WANT—!"
"Sorry, but two more years, at least," Kristen started nudging Andy up the stairs, "But, if this is the way you're conducting your life—"
"MUM!" Andy pleaded, "IT'S DICKHEAD'S FAULT!"
Richard eased Harry and Ron back into his bedroom, kept the door slightly ajar to listen.
"Enough!" Kristen said, "You will be confined to your bedroom and you will clean it up."
Kristen brought the bedroom door to a near close, with Andy inside her bedroom.
"I NEED TO USE THE PRIVY—!" Andy shouted.
"You just used it moments ago," Kristen said, "We could call for an ambulance."
Kristen latched the door closed.
"WHAT?!" Andy exclaimed, "BARS ON MY WINDOWS?!"
Kristen's eyes caught the crack of Richard's bedroom door. Her hand motioned for them to follow her downstairs. Richard was first, Ron, Harry, Hermione, Gia, and Jen followed.
"The report," Kristen said, taking a bit of paper from her pocket and handing it to Richard before they reached the bottom.
"Blimey!" Richard stammered, nearly tripped over himself on the bottom step.
Harry raised his eyebrows.
"Arrested in Manchester on prostitution charges," Richard said, "It's not the first time—and being underage, that means—"
"The crown will decide if the bloke will be charged with child statutory rape," Kristen said, "Andrea is seeing the therapist tomorrow after she is questioned as her ex–boyfriend—I just learned that Henry Weber was found lying in a ditch two days ago outside Cardiff, he's dead. So, you'll all get tested—"
"What?!" Richard stammered.
"Not now, I've already had enough cheek from Andrea," Kristen said, "She just tested HIV positive."
"Positive—?" Richard sunk onto an arm chair.
"HIV?" Ron muttered.
"I'll explain later," Hermione whispered.
"I've been in your shoes before," Kristen said, "You're clearly in relationships. So, if you're as mature as you think you are, you owe it to your partner to be tested, regularly. No arguments, alright?"
Richard nodded.
"Our school nurse, tomorrow?" Harry asked.
"Fine, so long as it's thorough," Kristen said.
Ron couldn't argue either as he stripped for bed in front of his friends.
Ron glanced at Harry's bottle green eyes, he nodded, they whispered together, "Legilimens!"
Ron climbed into bed, bit slower than Harry who immediately went to sleep. Harry rolled several times before Ron made it to sleep himself.
Walking, stumbling, Ron made it along a dark and slimy path, a path lined with burning skulls atop gravestones, but the black flame lent no help toward the treading footsteps along the way, and he stubbed his big toe. An ownerless wand poked at Ron's backside, forced him to push forward, leading Harry forward. Both stepped onto plank in the midst of a bed of burning hot embers, in a big round circle. Searing pain radiated into Ron's feet as the plank vanished, dropped him and Harry barefoot into the coals.
"No," came the screams, pleading, from an inner group of those encircling Ron and Harry.
Around the circle of coal, an inner ring of people writhing on their knees, gagged in just their knickers, all friends or family to Ron and Harry. Encircling them, an outer loop robed in black, each face showed their glee as they applied Cruciatus Curse after Cruciatus curse upon their prey.
"I can't take it," Cedric Diggory said before he fell face first into the coals, his flesh rapidly consumed and the stench of burnt meat filled Ron's nose.
Percy did his best to keep quiet, stepped into the coals, allowed the flame to incinerate him.
"With every motion," Voldemort said, stood upon the coals, untouched by them as he gloated, "They suffer because of you." A flick of the wand, white hot coals covered Harry and Ron, the pain seared through them, yet they remained alive, aware.
Death Eaters cursed, the victims began to move, as if pushed, into the coals. Gia was next. A liquid seeped out of her and started to lather itself upon her skin, it slowly melted, dissolving flesh in rhythm with her muffled screams.
"With every blink," Voldemort said, "They suffer because of you."
Harry squirmed against the ropes binding him. Ron became paralyzed as pieces of Hermione's butchered flesh burned into brown mud, mud that dried into dirt.
"Another muggleborn back to the earth!" Draco Malfoy exclaimed with glee.
"With every breath," Voldemort said, "They suffer because of you."
Lily Potter grimaced as Professor Snape pushed his former crush onto the coals. She ignored the ants chewing her apart, reached out to touch Harry. As she touched him, she turned to honey; the bees joined in the feast.
"With every sound," Voldemort said, "They suffer because of you."
Fat under their skin sizzled as Harry and Ron burned, caked in coal. Draco Malfoy poured gasoline on—
"Ron! Ron!" He woke to Hermione's shakes.
"What!?" Ron noted the darkness and glared at Hermione.
"Harry…" Hermione said, pointed.
Ron didn't need to look, he had seen the dream. Harry had seemingly moved, stretched across them, on top, and was now wetting himself onto Hermione. Without waking, Gia rolled over, her fingers caressed Harry's right ear lobe, and Harry slowed down to a slow drip.
"Don't knock it," Ron whispered before he coaxed hismelf back to sleep.
Ron's snooping of Harry's dreams continued, including a pleasant Quidditch fantasy against Malfoy and Voldemort, but also another one of Voldmeort executing some teenage boy.
"I've got it," the Seeker said.
"All part of the work," the Keeper said, "Potter's recent luck is about to change, right?"
"Stop inciting them all to send real hate mail to Potter!" the Seeker exclaimed.
"Not my work," the Keeper said, "Still, useful, know why? Know where Potter is, right now?"
"Not really," the Seeker said.
"Likely has a good alibis," the Keeper said, "Know the only reason that fool isn't using it?"
The Seeker shook his head.
"Security, it'd break the security of Potter," the Keeper said, "A little threat now and again discourages the Headmaster from using the alibis. So, get to work!"
"I will, I will," the Seeker promised.
A noise, and the Keeper's head vanished from the fireplace.