In the Crosshairs
Dragon Voldemort
Chapter 37: Black Flame
Warning, I revised chapter 36, added 2.4k or so after my first post.
"Tell him it worked!" the Seeker said mid–Sunday to the green head floating above the stone, "I mixed it in—happened to be some stupid jar of paint."
"You tested this inside Hogwarts?" the Keeper said, "Are you mad? Potter's suspended, you realize that, right?"
"I seized the chance, like I've been doing," the Seeker said, "Stupid first year's taking the blame for being careless, so that part's fine, actually good. See, some of the flock are…hesitant to side against Potter—it's complicated, but its spread has to be stopped, and this did just that."
"You took a risk," the Keeper said, "But you got lucky because the staff are too busy with the Headmaster at St. Mungo's to properly investigate."
Professor Minerva McGonagall felt the pinch, the tube that began to send sparkles along it, to the old man on the bed, his blue eyes twinkled.
"I appreciate this," said Professor Dumbledore said, "I need my wand."
"Comatose and total magical arrest!" exclaimed Madam Pomfrey, "You want your wand? Absolutely not!"
"It has been put into safe–keeping," said Professor McGonagall, "Prognosis?"
"He's stubborn so a bit slower," Madam Pomfrey said, "But don't make plans on attending Potter's eighteen birthday celebration."
"Albus, please reconsider," Professor McGonagall said, "There's—"
"It's not a guarantee," Madam Pomfrey said, "It only buys us time."
"It's better than no hope!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed.
"No," Professor Dumbledore said, "Despite knowing my fate, we're proceeding as planned."
"You don't get it!" Finnigan said Monday morning in the Gryffindor Common Room, "Potter's a menace, he needs to go."
"He's why you're colored…" Neville stopped, it was obvious, the head to toe pastel blue.
"We were discussing Potter when it happened," Finnigan said, "So, yeah, it's his fault."
Neville snorted.
"I mean, sure, it was that first years' accident—so not Potter, directly," said Macmillan, his pastel blue eyes blinked, "But we wouldn't have been in there if it weren't for Potter's antics."
"I thought Potter was cute," said Cho Chung, "Still is, but it's the insides that count, and those are rotten, same ones that sacrificed Cedric…" She wept.
"If you're going to skip breakfast and lessons," Neville said, "Count me out."
Neville got up, left, and went to the Great Hall. Finnigan entered shortly later, in his school uniform but with pastel blue skin, stood on top of the Gryffindor Table, a sheet of parchment in hand.
"I've heard ENOUGH to be fed up!" Finnigan said, "This is a referendum that our student council will honor. Do we expel Potter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry or not?"
Cheers and applause came.
"I thought we couldn't," asked Dean Thomas.
"We can't eject him from classes," Finnigan said, "But we don't have to suck up to him either nor ask him to stay. This referendum is a measure of our resolve, that we want Potter and his cohorts out of our lives. Voting will happen at lunch!"
"Go, pick it up," said Ron to Hermione, later that afternoon.
"You're not even interested!" Hermione snapped.
"Clothes, right?" Ron asked.
"Better if you just—you know," Harry said.
"Fine!" Hermione said as she left the house.
"We should've been nicer," Harry said.
"Right," Ron said, "Tell her we're studying magic without her? You know how that go."
"Yeah," Harry said as he pulled on the cord.
Ron watched Harry climbed first. Ron followed, bare feet to the rungs. Harry closed the trap door before they sat down, cross–legged. They piled the books between them, Practical Legilimency and Occlumency, along with Advanced Legilimency and Advanced Occlumency.
"We're doing good," Ron said, "Quite useful."
"Just hints are more than enough at times," Harry said.
"Percy accused me of being Dumbledore," Ron said
"Oh?" Harry asked.
"Friday," Ron said.
"Um," Harry said, "We're supposed to be at Hogwarts."
"He's cool with it," Ron said.
They studied.
Harry landed Tuesday morning, next to his familiar four–poster bed in the sixth years' boys' dormitory in Hogwarts. It no longer felt like home, despite the standard trappings for the past few years. His trunk tucked beneath his desk, the Firebolt propped against the dresser. Next to the other four poster, Ron and Hermione landed.
"We made it," Hermione said as an owl dropped The Daily Prophet at her feet.
Two owls came in, dropped letters into Ron's hands while Hermione perused The Daily Prophet.
"They're—" Hermione shook the newspaper slightly "—apparently, the North Tower collapsed of its own accord. Shoddy maintenance is the official determination of the Hogwarts audit."
Harry stepped over, glanced over the article.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Shoddy Care Doomed Hogwarts North Tower
The Hogwarts Inquest Committee, chaired by Solicitor Derek Xavier, has determined that the North Tower at Hogwarts collapsed due to neglect and poor maintenance. This sad state of affairs at Hogwarts must be corrected before reconstruction will be authorized.
"Voldemort collapsed—" Harry started as he stepped back.
"Where's the proof when the witnesses are Death Eaters and you two?" Hermione said, "Forgive me, but you're as popular as pariahs."
"So's Percy." Ron snorted and chuckled before he read.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Ron
Fred and I were doing the circuit when we sauntered into the Leaky Cauldron. Percy was real pissed—he got mad when Tom refused to serve. Tom was relieved when we pulled him down Diagon Alley to our shop to sober him up. Percy just got dumped by his bird, Julie, and he lost all earned seniority at the Ministry. He chose colourful vocabulary to describe you, Julie, Harry, Dad, and everybody else that ever crossed him.
So, did your evening go any better?
George
"That's funny," Harry said, giving a quick laugh, before he paced the room.
"It's not amusing," Hermione stated.
"Yes it is," Ron said, "Though, Percy's likely trying to defend himself."
Harry spotted a crumbled wad of parchment next to Seamus Finnigan's four poster, he bent over, picked it up, while Ron opened his other letter.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Ron
George or Fred may be writing you; they're lying.
Julie did break up with me — she's a jerk so this was foreseeable. Blimey! What's it with women anyways?
If you wish to be emancipated; I have enclosed the appropriate legal forms.
Percy
"That'd be useful," Harry said as Ron pulled off the forms, "Do 'em."
Ron grabbed a quill, began to fill them in. Harry opened the parchment, held it as he read.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Hogwarts Student Council: Potter Resolution
This council, effective 18 November 1996, has expelled Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger from any and all social activities at Hogwarts, where feasible. These activities includes, but not limited to, offering or receiving assistance, conversations, discussions, dances, letters, or other situations where contact is not compulsory.
Potter, Weasley, and Granger are menaces to Hogwarts; the students want them removed from the school, no questions asked. Any and all actions are encouraged to persuade these menaces to remove themselves voluntarily; Prefects will cooperate in this matter.
This resolution passed unanimously.
"We've got a—?" Ron muttered.
"The student council has not been authorized by the Headmaster."
Ron jumped, however, Harry caught the sight of the emerald green dress and square framed spectacles as Professor McGonagall entered the room. She carried several sheets of parchment with her.
"But—?" Harry stammered, the resolution shaking in his fist.
"Mr. Thomas, Mr. Finnigan, and Mr. Macmillan took the liberty of creating the council on Friday," Professor McGonagall said as she handed them their schedules, "Ordinarily, such an idea would be noble and looked favorable upon, as they have been formed from time to time in years past. However, this one has the specific intention of evicting you by any means necessary. Fortunately, any measures passed by a student council or their referendums are not legally binding. As you can understand, the Headmaster has chosen to ignore the complaint."
"Thank goodness," Hermione said.
"Regardless of the fairness," Professor McGonagall said, "You have a serious problem with your reputations at Hogwarts."
"How can we shake it when they're determined not to think?" Harry asked, "For the sheep to follow Finnigan to Voldemort, taking us down with them?"
"Never the less, Mr. Finnigan and the others have wagered their complaint," Professor McGonagall said, "And while every student has the right to avoid contact with you wherever possible, they may not endanger you in pursuit of this policy."
"I'd be having kittens should this all stop," Harry said, "It should be blatant that I can't control these doubles framing me at every turn."
"I will help you where I can," Professor McGonagall said, "That is a promise to the lot of you."
"Thank you Professor," Ron said.
Professor McGonagall left.
"You sure Voldemort is behind this?" Hermione asked.
"Who else would be this determined?" Harry said, "I'm not blaming Finnigan, not entirely. I mean, if you see it from their eyes, we are attacking and beating them up. But we're not, it's like they've got an unlimited supply of Polyjuice Potion."
"Suppose we could make a request," Hermione said, "Have them fill out an attendance roster at the next attack."
Ron snorted as they left the room.
"You seemed tense," Hermione said.
"Just waiting for the other shoe to drop," Harry grumbled as they came into the Gryffindor Common Room.
They left, went along the seventh year corridor, when a fourth year Hufflepuff girl walked by, her skin, her hair, even her eyes were a bright pastel blue.
"What the—?" Ron asked.
"Dunno," Harry said.
"Go back, ask," Hermione said.
"No," Harry said, "We'd just get blamed."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione went down to the third floor, entered the Charms classroom.
"Blimey!" Ron muttered.
Harry saw what Ron saw. Ernie Macmillan, Justin Finch–Fletchley, Seamus Finnigan, Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson, Susan Bones, Hannah Abott, and a few others were the same solid shade of pastel blue in their skin, their hair, their eyes, their teeth. Neville, however, wasn't, along with Draco Malfoy, and the remainder of their classmates were alright.
"Just sit," Harry whispered.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione took a front desk, while Finnigan turned his head toward Dean Thomas, who was normal.
"How long until they're gone?" Finnigan asked, loudly, to Thomas.
"Dunno," Thomas replied, "Not long with Goyle banging Granger."
"Disgusting," Macmillan said.
"I will now collect your essays everyone," Professor Flitwick said as he entered the classroom.
Harry glanced at those eyes, the ones bearing hatred toward him, before he glanced at Hermione. Hermione's face, mortified, as her eyes darted between Harry and Ron.
"Know anything about an essay?" she asked.
Harry gambled, reached into his book–bag, pulled out the one that had been due Friday, the one he hadn't been able to turn in, and handed it over.
"This will lose you credit," Professor Flitwick said, "Appalled to think you'd even try this on me. Everybody else was able to accomplish the assigned task."
Professor Flitwick flicked his wand, Harry's stale essay spontaneously combusted while the ones from the other students flew up into a nice and neat pile.
"Couldn't fudge it, Potter?" Finnigan exclaimed.
Laughter filled the room while Professor Flitwick guided the other essays into a folding portfolio folder. The Professor stepped up onto his pedestal.
"Friday's essay, through trivial, was mandatory," Professor Flitwick said, "No late submissions will be tolerated, no exceptions. Those who failed to produce have now failed this course. As such, those students have no business in this classroom, they must now leave and never return."
"But—" Hermione started to protest as the Professor flicked his wand. The table and the chairs vanished beneath Harry, Ron, and Hermione; they fell onto their butts.
"This expulsion from my lessons is final," said Professor Flitwick, "You proved you have no potential in this subject, and I will refuse to tutor on selfish bastards."
Harry caught the eyes, the wrath behind them, and didn't want to invite any more. He tugged on Hermione as her mouth started to move, to retort. Ron grabbed their book–bags as Harry pulled Hermione toward the door. Applause and cheers of the others escorted them out of the classroom.
"You're just going to let him—" Hermione protested.
"He already vanished our chairs!" Harry said, "Want to see how much more he'll—?"
"Explain yourselves!" Professor Tonks was glaring down at them. "You're not in class!"
"We were expelled from Charms," Ron replied.
"Well, it serves you right," Professor Tonks said, "Seeing as you left before I had to assist the Professor with your removal, I will not resort to escorting you—you are to go there immediately."
"But—" Hermione protested.
"Twenty points from Gryffindor," Professor Tonks said, "Start walking before I add detentions to the matter."
Harry led, Ron and Hermione followed, while Professor Tonks returned to her classroom.
"That was rude," Ron said.
"Just as gullible—" Harry said.
"Go to Dumbledore," Hermione said.
"Are you crazy?" Harry said, "He's got better things to do than worry about me!"
Harry rubbed his finger into his ear canal.
"What?" Ron asked.
"Thought I heard a House–Elf," Harry said, spinning around. Every direction was the stone, or a window onto the mostly cloudy day outside. "Must've been my imagination."
"They're not meant to be heard," Ron said, before he got a jab from Hermione.
"Suppose we could crash the greenhouse now," Harry said, "Or, go back to Dormitory, I suppose."
"Library!" Hermione said.
"Alright," Harry said.
"Feeling alright?" Ron asked.
"It's early in the day," Harry said, "Not likely to be crowded."
They climbed the steps.
"What was with all the blue?" Ron asked.
"Dunno," Harry said.
They entered the library. Harry walked along the stacks, picked out the green bound Currents of Time that he had skimmed into two weeks earlier, grabbed it. He went over, sat across from Hermione.
"That's odd," Hermione stated.
"Like our Charms essays mean anything?" Harry said. Harry signed inside the cover, placed it into his book–bag.
"Other options?" Ron asked.
"Doesn't seem too bad outside, grab our brooms?" Harry asked.
"Sounds great!" Ron exclaimed.
"Study!" Hermione quipped, "Herbology's next."
"Can we just take more Care of Magical Creatures instead?" Harry grumbled, picked up his Transfiguration book.
"Albus!" Professor McGonagall said as she entered the Headmaster's office, "I overheard Filius boasting on his plan to remove Mr. Potter from his lesson.
"This so called mess is of Potter's own making," said Professor Snape, "I was discussing interference in my carefully drafted lesson plans."
"How do you plan to expel him?" Professor McGonagall asked.
"You know there is less paperwork when they expel themselves," Professor Snape said, "To which the Headmaster seems fit to encourage."
"Albus?" Professor McGonagall asked of the old man behind the desk.
"I have my reasons," said Professor Dumbledore said.
"It's a change in a carefully proscribe schedule of difficulty in potions," Professor Snape said, "Jumping into a potion best left to end of the seventh year upsets the schedule."
"If it helps, I have the official scheduling quill," Professor McGonagall said.
"Is holding such a lesson outside your capabilities Severus?" Professor Dumbledore asked of the Potions Master.
"No," the greasy haired teacher said, "Such a lesson can be made conform to the curriculum. May I be excused?"
"I appreciate your efforts," Professor Dumbledore said.
Professor Snape turned around, left the office.
"It's not just Charms," Professor McGonagall said, "I've heard rumors that the others—"
Pop!
"Excuse me," said Professor Dumbledore, motioned for Dobby to approach.
"Dobby was requested to watch Harry Potter," Dobby said, "Dobby reports news on Harry Potter." Dobby described Charms.
"Filius carried through with expelling them?" Professor McGonagall said, "This matter must be stopped, schedules that must be—"
"Do not remove any lesson from their schedules, not yet," said Professor Dumbledore, "I will speak with Filius and any others contemplating such action. In the meanwhile, I need to review the schedules for tomorrow."
"As you wish," Professor McGonagall said. She left.
"You're late!" Hermione bellowed as Ron and Harry landed next to Harry's four poster bed Wednesday morning. Harry stored his backpack in his trunk.
"You wouldn't believe me," Harry said.
"You took my Portkey!" Ron exclaimed, "Barely caught up with Harry in time."
"New schedules," Hermione said, handing them over, "Yours was lumpy."
"Really?" Harry asked as a Hogwarts pin jumped out, attached itself to the point of his shirt collar.
"Guess," Hermione said.
Harry, though, went for the stairs. Harry glanced at his schedule, he stopped in the common room to reread the note underneath the sole lesson of the day, Potions, the note in loopy handwriting.
"That's Dumbledore's, right?" Ron asked.
"I was right," Hermione said, "You should have gone—"
"Quiet!" Harry decided to read it out.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Harry,
I find it disappointing you did not consider news of Professor Flitwick's actions or the others worthy of my attention; this affects us both. Second, I apologize in advance for day you will spend with Professor Snape, it was unfortunate that it is necessary.
Professor Dumbledore.
"Professor Dumbledore apologized—?" Ginny asked as she climbed up the stairs past them, "Wish he'd apologize more often."
"Belt it you git!" Ron bellowed back up.
"What's that?" Harry asked, pointed above the fireplace.
A painting of the blue Ford Angelia.
"The car!" Ron exclaimed.
"What's it doing up there?" Hermione asked.
"Like you don't know?" stammered Seamus Finnigan, nearby. His face and skin were still pastel blue, however, the roots of his hair were letting a bit of the brown return, the whites of his eyes restored.
"No!" Harry snapped.
Finnigan bolted out of Gryffindor Tower first. Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed.
"Thug alert!" Finnigan bellowed at Dean Thomas and Neville Longbottom ahead.
"Day–long Potions," Neville grumbled, "All those cauldrons—"
"Small price to pay," Thomas said, "At least there—Snape can keep them restrained."
"But Malfoy—" Neville protested.
"Hey," Finnigan said, "Humiliation or murder, your choice."
"I choose the third option," Thomas said, "Removal."
"A bung or a bang—you can bury any cock up around here," Finnigan said, "Maybe we could do the same."
Harry deliberately slowed down Ron and Hermione, let the others move out of sight.
"Wise idea," Hermione said.
"Not taking flack from them," Harry said, "Got enough troubles."
"As Neville said, all day potions," Ron said, "What ever did we do to deserve this?"
"Not sure," Hermione said.
Harry had a hunch.
"Can we skip?" Ron asked.
"No!" Hermione snapped.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were the last to to enter the Potions dungeon classroom. They turned toward the back–corner table, however, Malfoy was already there. Malfoy's smile was flanked by Crabbe and Goyle sitting next to him.
"As you can see, we already have this table," Malfoy said, "So unless you're planning to murder—"
"To your seats," Professor Snape commanded as he entered the classroom.
Harry spotted it, the only open table in the middle of the middle, and went for it. Ron and Hermione followed, sat next to him.
"Can you get them to move?" Finnigan asked Professor Snape, "I'd rather they not be behind me."
Professor Snape merely examined it, Finnigan, Neville, and Thomas were at the table in front of Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
"The operator of your cauldron is the biggest threat here," Professor Snape said, "Pay attention."
Professor Snape flicked his wand at the board, it turned itself over to reveal the topic of the day, Veritaserum.
"That's highly advanced—" Hermione started.
"I expect even the pathetic of my students to be capable of brewing this staple," Professor Snape said.
Harry glanced at those dark eyes, he dared not loiter, enough to pick up the Professor was not prepared for the intrusion, that this wasn't on the lesson plan for long.
"Veritaserum has an intricate process that must be followed or the results will be hazardous," Professor Snape said, "Therefore, this morning will be spent preparing. You will study the delicate aspects of making Veritaserum. Once I am satisfied that you will not kill yourself in the process, you will begin to brew this potion this afternoon. You will have this brewed to the first step in time for dinner, or you would be best served in finding another course to replace this time slot in your schedules, which you have undoubtedly noticed were adjusted to accommodate this brew."
Hermione started to speak, however, Harry glared at her and shook his head. She bit her lips, remained silent. Harry glanced at Ron, ready to bolt, when their eyes twitched under the mutual spell cast.
"Day long Potions, kill me now," Ron thought.
"Dumbledore had his reasons," Harry replied.
"Him?"
"Snape, he's pissed off too. No, the apology made it clear, Dumbledore arranged it."
"Hope he knows what he's up too."
"Me too," Harry responded.
Harry noticed Ron ease up. Harry laid out his parchment, quill to the side.
"Unfortunately, the selection of Potion textbooks is quite limited when it comes to even average abilities," Professor Snape said, "I will have to dictate as you write notes."
"Kill me now," Neville muttered.
"Devil's Breath is a name muggles ascribe to what can be brewed from the flowers of the Borrachero tree, native to South America," Professor Snape said, "It is the basis of a number of potions that are prohibited to possess outside the confines of either the Ministry for Magic or an educational setting."
Harry glanced at Hermione's jotting down, hoped it'd be sufficient.
Professor Lupin entered the Headmaster's Office early that afternoon, two steps after Professor McGonagall.
"Albus," said Professor Lupin said, not waiting for the customary greeting, "I was rather startled by Nymphadora's remark about being idle when she was supposed to be teaching the sixth years. I asked around—"
"Patience," the Headmaster managed.
"I'm concerned with your behavior," said Professor McGonagall, "Albus, this is highly unusual, even for you."
"I have my reasons," Professor Dumbledore said as he tapped his wand.
"You know what happened the last time you used that!" Professor Lupin said, "I thought you hid it Minerva."
"I did," Professor McGonagall said.
Professor Dumbledore smiled as a naughty school boy would.
"Do you know where the sixth years are?" Professor Lupin asked.
"Potions," Professor McGonagall replied.
"For how long?" Professor Lupin asked.
"Long enough," Professor Dumbledore replied.
"All day and well into the evening," Professor McGonagall said.
"Are you mad?" Professor Lupin said to the Headmaster, "Severus and Harry do not mix, not with Severus holding a grudge of James' over the poor boy's head! Are you trying to hand Harry over to Lord Voldemort?"
"Severus would never do that," Professor Dumbledore replied.
"Are you sure?" Professor Lupin asked.
BOOM!
Everything shook.
"Wait five minutes," Professor Dumbledore stated as he rotated over the sand–glass on his desk.
"Blimey, no!" Professor Lupin exclaimed. It took a minute for the doors to unlock.
Meanwhile, a bit earlier, Harry heard Ron's stomach growl. Harry inked the quill to the parchment, drew in a tree where he was supposed to list the full classification to the Borrachero tree. Incorrect came the flash of red. Quickly, the parchment with the quiz sailed into Professor Snape's hands, who examined it.
"This will do quite fine," Professor Snape said.
Harry quickly glanced at those dark eyes, faster than it took the Potions master to realize he was being interrogated. Harry understood, the man did not care, a botched potion was an acceptable outcome to him.
"Be careful," Harry whispered to Hermione.
Hermione gave a shrewd glance at Harry, and Harry sensed her confusion to the source of his perception.
"Per rules of Hogwarts, an extended class must include sustenance at the proscribed schedule," Professor Snape said, "If you happen to sprinkle an ingredient onto your food, leave the classroom to die, it cuts down on the paperwork. You may begin."
Sandwiches and pumpkin juice appeared on the tables. Ron grabbed two, ate them at once. Harry went to the back, grabbed the five trumpet bell like white flowers, along with a jar of dead spiders, returned to the desk.
"Those?" Ron asked.
"Wash your fingers before eating," Hermione advised Harry.
Ron went to back, filled up a cauldron. Harry grabbed the knife, began to chop into the white flowers.
"Not so aggressive," Hermione said, "Lightly touch the flowers, too much and—"
"Got it," Harry said, "How many potions take a full day to brew?"
"More like two to simmer before the next step," Hermione said, "It's not even listed in Moste Potente Potions for a reason, footnote told me where to go look."
"You're already familiar with it?" Harry asked.
"Not really," Hermione said.
"She's got it memorized," Ron said as he returned.
"Not quite," Hermione said.
Hermione took the pestle, ground the ghost pepper into the mortar.
"You handle the spiders," Ron said to Harry.
Harry glanced forward, where Malfoy took a clear glass jar, of live spiders, from the front of the classroom. Professor Snape merely watched the jar as Malfoy held it up.
"Professor," Malfoy said, "Did you not say that live spiders would give a more effective product? This may sound silly, but might we brew a more potent potion?"
"Live spiders can be meddlesome, we have yet to cover all of the considerations," Professor Snape said, "However, in the interest of research, you may kill live spiders just before adding them. We shall be able to observe the effects of using freshly killed spiders versus the twenty dead per Knut variety."
Harry noticed the mad grin on Malfoy's face, unfortunately those gray eyes were too focused on the jar of live spiders in the hands, so Harry couldn't read them.
"Only one reason why he volunteered to do that," Ron muttered, "Not that I mind."
Harry counted as he added in ten dead spiders to the warming water.
"Now we wait," Hermione said, "An hour until we can add the yeast—you know, the subsequent carbonation aids the absorption, the kick, before it takes over."
Harry caught Ron's eyes, the ones that began to dream of Hermione, undressing. Harry, though, did hear the voice from the back corner.
"Ready?" asked Crabbe.
Harry turned, watched as Malfoy began to twist the jar lid. Crabbe readied a book.
"No no," Malfoy said, "There's better ways to kill the vermin—we're wizards after all."
Harry wondered what Malfoy had in mind as the lid was opened. Crabbe, however, grabbed the jar, dumped the spiders into a glass bowl, where the slippery sides kept the spiders from crawling out.
"Spiders," Harry whispered.
Harry watched as Malfoy leveled the wand toward the spiders. Harry's arm hair stood up fast as a sense of electric shock accompanied the goosebumps that flared across his skin. Harry noticed the aim, only the spiders were sort of between him and the wand. Harry's muscles tensed up, contracted before he realized they had.
"Avada Kedavra!" Malfoy shouted.
Harry shoved the table and lunged forward as the bead of green magic emerged from Malfoy's wand. Ron turned before falling forward, he tripped himself to the left, before that dart of death, the one that had just missed the bowl of spiders, headed their way. Hermione began to fall as the table leg took her down by the knee.
CRASH!
Their cauldron leaned slightly as it supporting table crashed to the floor, before it hit the floor with a loud clang between Finnigan and Thomas. Heat of the liquid shredded Finnigan's trouser legs, and Finnigan stumbled as he flinched. Thus, the toxic green messenger that missed Harry by a foot, Ron by a mile, and nearly shaving Finnigan, came to an end when it punched a mark and bite from Professor Snape's podium.
"Blimey!" Malfoy exclaimed "Missed!"
Harry, Ron, and Hermione started to recover in their stance, almost remained on their feet.
"Ready," Crabbe said, his wand drawn, along with Goyle
"Avada Kedavra!" the three shouted, together in the incantation. Three wands, with similar sense of aim, threw out their deadly green curses that missed the spiders in the bowl.
Ron shoved Hermione to continue her in her trip, both hit the floor. As Harry met the stone floor, he punched the calves of Thomas and Neville, and they fell backward over Harry's table. Finnigan was already hopping to his left as he gripped at his missing right trouser leg. Harry's dropped cauldron continued to dump its contents across the front of the classroom.
Crabbe's curse shattered several glass ingredient jars in the front of the classroom. Goyle's struck the spilled lesson, ignited Harry's potion into a black flame. Malfoy's curse blew out the left table legs to Finnigan's table. That second cauldron threw itself down, enhanced the brewing fire and tempers.
BOOM!
Walls shook.
"Stow 'em," Malfoy whispered to Crabbe and Goyle, who stashed their wands.
Professor Snape, however, glared as Harry got back up into a kneeling position.
"All points taken from Gryffindor!" Professor Snape shouted.
"BASTARD!" Harry shouted as he stood, his temper unhinged, "POINTS FOR VOLDEMORT—LETTING DEATH EATERS MURDER—"
"Belt it," Professor Snape ordered.
Harry's bottle green eyes fixated onto Professor Snape's, his wrath took over, caught a brief red flicker in the reflection as he pulled it forth.
"Potter is as desirable as a bad case of hemorrhoids," Voldemort said, "Several of the faithful believe the stench can be wiped around, provide what is rightfully mine. Potter can be destroyed because Dumbledore will always find me another child to sacrifice for the greater good."
Professor Snape blinked as Harry lost the memory.
"REWARD THEM—" Harry pointed at Malfoy "—FOR LYNCHING!"
"Indefinite detention for making a scene," Professor Snape said in a dry voice.
"DUCKING A KILLING CURSE—" Harry said before he stopped, the reflection in those eyes showed him what he had just missed, but could not react in time.
Every other student already had their wands drawn when Finnigan grabbed Harry from behind, Thomas held his wrists.
"Do it," Finnigan said to Malfoy.
Professor Snape remained silent, simply observed as Malfoy leveled his wand.
"Avada—" Malfoy started.
"Expelliarmus!" Ron exclaimed. He caught Malfoy's wand, tossed it into the growing black flame.
Finnigan ripped off the Gryffindor lion from Harry's shirt. Finnigan doubled over as Hermione kicked him in the bollocks. Parvati Patil and Lavender brown cursed; Ron and Hermione doubled over, puking.
"Fifty points to whoever deals with this menace," Professor Snape said as he left the classroom.
As others converged, Terry Boot and Susan Bones grabbed the book–bags of Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
"Wait," Macmillan said as he aimed his wand, "I've got an idea…" Conjured ropes sprung out, tightly bound Harry.
Wayne Hopkins and Anthony Goldstein joined in, bound Ron and Hermione.
"Finish—" Finnigan started.
"Leave them," Macmillan said as he tipped another cauldron, "And leave this wretched dungeon yourselves."
Macmillan tipped two more cauldrons as the others left out, locked the door as he was the last of the other students to leave the dungeon. Harry felt the darkness grow in intensity as the inferno of black raged, spreading its orange and ice smoke; it grew cold, fast, around himself, Ron, and Hermione tightly bound on the floor. Harry shivered as their breaths turned to frost, the flames sucked the energy and their muscles refused to comply to move against the tight ropes. Cracks formed in the stone arches above them.
"REDUCTUS!" Professor Lupin came through the door first. "PROTEGO!"
Harry spotted Professor McGonagall just behind, understandably timid to the icy smoke that billowed along the floor, adding orange to it. Professor Lupin held his breath as he bolted through the flames, came first to Harry. A slice from the wand, Harry got up to his feet while Professor Lupin moved to free Ron. Harry grabbed a knife, sliced through the ropes on Hermione. Ron and Hermione joined Harry in grabbing their confiscated bags before they ran out of the dungeon.
"Thank you," Harry said to Professor Lupin.
"My goodness," Professor McGonagall said, the window reflected the faces covered in orange soot.
"Go," Professor Dumbledore said as he came to a halt. He removed the Hogwarts pin from the point on Harry's collar.
"Be thankful we didn't wait five minutes," Professor Lupin said, his eyes glared at the Headmaster.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione started to walk.
BOOM!
Walls shook.
"Albus!" Professor McGonagall said, "You know—"
"I still have a trick or two left in me," Professor Dumbledore said, "And I said hurry to the Hospital Wing! My office afterwards!"
Harry, Ron, and Hermione hurried in their pace, went up the stairs.
"Not exactly a surprise," Harry grumbled.
"You knew?" Hermione asked, "Was this staged?"
"Not this much," Harry said, "Think about it."
"Us, in potions for an entire day with Snape?" Ron said, "Dumbledore arranged it, he's not a fool Hermione."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered the Hospital Wing, all three extensively covered in orange.
"Would somebody care to explain—my goodness!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed, "This way."
"Why can't you just die?" Finnigan snapped at Harry before walking out.
"You're not making my job any easier Potter," Madam Pomfrey said as Harry sat on a bed.
"Try telling them that," Harry grumbled.
"A little inhalation, it'll pass," Madam Pomfrey said as she waved her wand over Harry, "In the meanwhile, no stress!"
"I'll try," Harry snapped.
"Manners!" Madam Pomfrey said before she pointed, "Wash basins!"
Harry walked over to the left tub of water, the mirror showed the face covered in the orange soot. He took the white washcloth, turned it orange as he wiped his face. A face that had seen a lot over the years, but never did he expect Seamus Finnigan to actually cooperate in trying to murder him. A bit of pity, the brainwashing on Finnigan seemed complete.
"So much for potions," Ron said as he took to the middle wash basin.
"It did exactly what the label on the tin claimed," Harry said as the orange left his friend's face, "It told us the truth."
"If we were just a wee bit slower," Ron said, "We'd be dead."
Harry turned, watched Hermione fidget for a moment.
"We definitely know who we can and can't trust," Harry said.
Hermione merely glared, her anger, her disgust, clear, as she came over to the free wash basin. She rinsed her face.
"Got nothing to say?" Hermione asked.
"Plenty," Harry said. Even though he no longer cared about remaining, he didn't feel like saying it here, he simply wasn't safe at Hogwarts. "It'd get us expelled."
"Likely going to happen," Hermione said.
"If you're done," Professor McGonagall said, as she entered, Professor Lupin with her, "Please, the Headmaster is waiting for you."
…
Professor Dumbledore stood over his Pensieve, watched the green curse that flew across the Potions dungeon toward Harry a short while earlier, the shakiness as Harry moved fast. It had turned out to be far riskier than he had envisioned. He had anticipated a shouting match, perhaps fists, enough to warrant the actions he was about to have to take; however, this was a direct threat against the lives of those he was charged with protecting. He had grounds to expel quite a few of the students, however, he's grown wiser in his years and it's much easier to keep an eye on people if they're residing at Hogwarts.
Hoot! Hoot!
A double alarm, Professor Dumbledore now knew that Harry had left the Hospital Wing, and would be up shortly. He steadied himself on his cane, his muscles protested as he made his way back to his desk. He realized that he likely shaved a month or two from his life from the magic he had to endure today. Fawkes flew past, dropped another one of those bits of parchment onto his desk. Professor Dumbledore made a note to himself to figure out where that phoenix were keeping them, however, the timing was impeccable.
Hoot!
His ascending stairs were active, Harry was on his way, as he sat down behind his desk. Professor Dumbledore had just a moment to read, so he read the note.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Albus,
Under no circumstances allow Harry Potter to quit, the consequences of that are more disastrous than you realize.
Godric Gryffindor
Too many mysteries were contained in that missive, too many to contemplate as he heard the much anticipated sound.
Knock! Knock!
"Enter," Professor Dumbledore said as he stashed the note.
Professors Lupin and McGonagall escorted Harry, Ron, and Hermione into the office. All three teenagers stood before the desk, clean faces, but orange soot remained in their hair and on their clothes.
"First I would like to apologize," the Headmaster said, "The situation heated faster than we could respond."
Professor Lupin snorted, shook his head.
"You knew?" Hermione stammered.
"Of course he knew something would happen," Harry said, "Changing our schedules so we'd be with Snape for an entire day—oil and water don't mix, but he's not a fool either."
Professor Lupin shook his head, slowly.
"You will … of course … be suspended. For a week per our agreement," Professor Dumbledore said, feeling a bit short of breath, "For the record … it will be listed as … 'refusing to be murdered'."
"Albus!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed, "That's a horrible reason—"
The Headmaster focused upon her eyes, snooped enough to know the twinkling of his eyes bedazzled her, and she calmed down.
"It will be duly noted," Professor McGonagall said, "However, an investigation is required before a finding can be determined."
Knock! Knock!
"Upon inquiry," Professor Dumbledore said, "You are to state that Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Miss. Granger have been suspended, and that it complies with the tenets of resolution 199611B—no further information will be provided, understood?"
"HEY!" shouted Finnigan, through the door.
Professors Lupin and McGonagall nodded.
Thump! Thump!
"Before Remus lets the angry mob in," Professor Dumbledore said to Harry and Ron, "I must ask for your Portkeys."
As the doors shook, Harry sighed as he pulled his out. Ron pulled his out.
"You do not want these in your possession," Professor Dumbledore said as he slipped them into his drawer on top of the note.
"Ready?" Professor Lupin asked.
"Yes," the Headmaster replied.
A flick of Professor Lupin's wand, the doors unsealed themselves. Professor Snape led in the group of students.
"Headmaster," Professor Snape said, "Failing your duty? Again? These beasts assaulted their fellow classmates, they endangered the lives of every student bothering to learn, an education that they interrupted with their antics, not to mention the destruction of the dungeon—"
"Destruction?" Harry asked Professor Dumbledore.
"It was the only way to contain and extinguish the fire," Professor Dumbledore said.
"Headmaster," Professor Snape said, "A reasonable and sane approach would be expel—in the past, you have expelled for far less."
"We want them gone!" Dean Thomas exclaimed.
"They tried to push me into the fire!" Finnigan shouted.
"I need to pass Potions and they toppled my cauldron!" Neville added.
"They tried to tear me limb for limb," Thomas exclaimed.
"Ernie saved—" Hannah Abbott started.
"Silence!" Professor Dumbledore ordered.
"Forget it—he doesn't care—" Finnigan started.
"Silence!" Professor McGonagall snapped.
Professor Dumbledore glanced at the students in his crowded office, the ones waiting on him.
"One at a time," the Headmaster said, "Mr. Finnigan."
"Potter dumped his cauldron and shoved," Finnigan said as his pastel blue lips moved on his pastel blue face, "Next thing I knew, I was on the floor and the dungeon was on fire. We tried to control Potter—if it weren't for Ernie, none of us would be alive."
Professor Dumbledore found it a bit disturbing that Seamus Finnigan completely believed in what he was saying, even if some of it contradicted what he saw in the Pensieve.
"Mr. Thomas," Professor McGonagall said.
"Like Seamus said," Thomas said, "However, the cowardice of Professor Snape befuddles me."
"Miss. Granger," Professor Dumbledore said.
"Just after we had added our spiders—" Hermione started.
"LIAR!" Finnigan shouted, his arm pointed.
"Mr. Finnigan!" Professor McGonagall snapped, "You're out of line!"
Finnigan relented.
"Malfoy tried to kill his spiders," Hermione said, "He missed—if it weren't for Harry or Ron—"
"We'd be better off without you!" Thomas snapped.
Professor Dumbledore grabbed his staff, hit it against the floor. It's loud thud silenced the students.
"Mr. Malfoy was merely trying to kill some spiders he needed." Professor Snape said.
"Professor Lupin," Professor Dumbledore said, as he ignored the Potions Master, "Please remove the students from this office—except for these three." Professor Dumbledore had pointed at Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
"This way," Professor Lupin said to the students. All save Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed.
"No justice behind closed doors," Finnigan quipped as he left the office.
"Headmaster," Professor Snape asked, "Are you just going to let Potter walk?"
"Silence Severus!" Professor Dumbledore said.
Professor Snape glared, their eyes met. The Headmaster could easily read the fuming fury from the mind of the Potions Master, but that was it. Gone are the days that Albus Dumbledore readily penetrated the defenses; he didn't know whether this came from a gain in Severus Snape's skill or whether his own health condition diminished his own ability.
"Peeves expressed displeasure of having missed the commotion," Professor McGonagall said.
"Severus Snape," Professor Dumbledore said, "While I'm not an expert in brewing Veritaserum, I do know that dead spiders were perfectly viable in this situation. You deliberately allowed a student to perform a Killing Curse, in your dungeon, unsupervised with none of the usual precautions taken. You witnessed Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley taking efforts to save their own lives, yet you took no action except punishing them. You witnessed the other students attempting to complete the dirty deed, yet, with a fire raging, you abandoned your post. Whether you are merely unqualified for your post, or you deliberately encouraged three of your charges to be assaulted is known only to you; you have let down the trust I have vested in you."
Professor Snape remained silent.
"Minerva," Professor Dumbledore said, "Please take Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Miss. Granger to their dormitory, they will be permitted to remove a few items, quickly, before returning to serve their suspension."
Professor McGonagall's hand brushed Harry, Ron, and Hermione into walking. Harry, however, stopped, turned back to face the Headmaster.
"Professor Dumbledore," Harry said, "Regardless of the good of my attendance at Hogwarts may be, it's in nobody's interest that the other students remain in jeopardy because of me. Aunt Petunia was correct, if I had been raised as a Muggle at a Muggle school, it would have saved everybody a lot of trouble. I renew my request to withdraw from Hogwarts."
"If Harry goes, I go," Ron said.
"Same for me," Hermione said.
Professor Dumbledore relied on his wit as his tongue began to move.
"Might I remind you that you are currently suspended," Professor Dumbledore said, his mind reached for the delay tactic, "I cannot accept any tendered withdrawal until such time as the punishment has been served. If after that time, you wish to pursue that option, I will, of course, honor it."
Professor McGonagall escorted Harry, Ron, and Hermione out of the office.
"Did I understand correctly?" Professor Snape asked, his dark eyes upon the Headmaster, "Did Mr. Potter previously request to withdraw? It would behoove you to agree—the damage to Hogwarts is growing with every day of his stay."
"Any person who claims to be against Voldemort must support Mr. Potter attending Hogwarts," Dumbledore said, "Mr. Potter must be allowed to stay, regardless of the damage, for leaving would cause even more suffering than has already occurred."
"Must I remind you of the duty that the Headmaster has to every student?" Professor Snape said, "By placing a single student's attendance above the welfare of every other person in this castle, you have just abdicated your position."
"A serious attempt was made on Mr. Potter's life while he was under your charge and protection," Professor Dumbledore said, "You are on your final chance. I will not forget it."
"Understood," Professor Snape said.
"I need the vecturaveneficum you brewed," Professor Dumbledore said, "Now."
"That will take a bit of time," Professor Snape said, "Currently my office is difficult to reach—"
"Do not forget your hand in that," Professor Dumbledore replied.
"It's almost like you had this mess planned—" Professor Snape said.
"Having Mr. Potter spend a day with you?" Professor Dumbledore smirked. "Why should I expect anything other than a mess?"
Professor Snape glared and turned around, left.
…
Professor McGonagall followed up the stairs, cursing the absurd number of steps now that she was in her formidable years, before she entered the sixth year boys' dormitory.
"I'm ashamed of Gryffindor's conspiring to attack fellow…" Professor McGonagall drifted off as her eyes set upon the room.
Harry was bent over, shoveling everything from his desk, his dresser, and his trunk into a shared backpack with Ron doing the same.
"Got my stuff," Hermione said as she came in, backpack slung over her shoulder, already dressed in her pink jumper and light magenta jeans.
"You surely don't need all of that for your suspensions," Professor McGonagall said.
"We're not certain we'll return." Harry turned, "And with their attitudes, we're better off storing our stuff elsewhere. But for now, my trunk will remain."
Ron wrote a hasty note, attached it to Pigwidgeon's leg, tossed it out the window into breezy and fair weather, before the tiny owl gained flight.
"I take it personally when students are chased out of Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall said, "It's so unjust."
"Story of my life," Harry said
"Still," Professor McGonagall said, "It's not right."
"Thank you," Harry said as he pulled on a red T–shirt, "Wish others felt the same way."
…
Professor Dumbledore reexamined his pensieve, wondered if he could figure out what he was missing. He understood the frustrations of the students, they were being hoodwinked, and so they had seized the opportunity to try to eradicate the victim portrayed as the source of their problems. He heard the simple chime, Professor McGonagall's, that she was headed back, when the door opened faster than anticipated.
"Has Potter been expelled?" Professor Tonks said, "Dirty slime deserves what he gets."
"Nymphadora!" Professor Dumbledore said, "I am amazed that you have forgotten the oath you made to Lily Potter as you stood over her corpse."
Her face turned pink.
"Potter's actions—" Professor Tonks started to protest.
"Do you really fail to realize the damage that Voldemort is inflicting?" Professor Dumbledore asked.
"Remus tried selling me that tripe," Professor Tonks said, "The Dark Lord is nowhere near this castle."
"Voldemort has poisoned the very atmosphere of Hogwarts," Professor Dumbledore said, "Because of his influence, students attacked Harry Potter, tried to kill him, but I'm required to suspend indiscriminately, so I am. Voldemort's influence fostered those actions, which I doubt he is displeased with, apart from Mr. Potter's survival."
"Consider me a skeptic," Professor Tonks said.
"As you seem to need some evidence." Professor Dumbledore handed her a slip of paper. "I need you to go here and observe, incognito."
"I have classes," Professor Tonks replied.
"As Headmaster," Professor Dumbledore said, "I have already granted you leave and arranged for a substitute. Go and watch, in a week, you will understand—bring along your wireless and listen."
Whoosh!
A large puff of green flame bellowed out of the fireplace before Cornelius Fudge stepped out.
"Cornelius," Professor Dumbledore said, "How goes your retirement?"
"Awful word, just awful—Just say that I'm dabbling with writing at the moment," Fudge said, "You asked a favor of me."
"Yes, in several moments," the Headmaster said, "Nymphadora—"
Professor McGonagall came in as the door opened; Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed in muggle wear. Professor Snape set down two potions onto the Headmaster's desk just after he returned, when his eyes focused upon the retired Minister for Magic.
"I was unaware that suspensions merited an audience," Professor Snape said.
"We need witnesses," Professor Dumbledore said, "Cornelius—?"
"I have arranged for your requested Demeantors," Fudge said.
"I was under the impression that you had resigned," Professor Snape said.
"Please!" Professor Dumbledore picked up the blue flask, sniffed, and returned it to Professor Snape. He grabbed the white flask. "You are all to bear witness, to the whole procedure—Nymphadora, another witness could be useful."
Professor Dumbledore turned toward Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Ron and Hermione carried backpacks on their backs.
"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, and Miss. Granger," Professor Dumbledore said, "I now formally suspend you, pursuant to the Hogwarts Board of Governors' resolution 199611B; your crime is surviving attempted murder."
"That's utterly ridiculous!" Fudge said, "Unless it's an official execution—survival is never a crime!"
"Resolution 199611B made it a crime," Professor Dumbledore said, before he turned his focus back at the teenagers, "In accordance, you will be transported to a location outside of Hogwarts. You will not be permitted to return until the sentence is served. Demeantors will be stationed at undisclosed locations around Hogwarts and Hogsmeade; they are authorized to kiss should you dare return before time. Please accompany me as we leave."
Professor Dumbledore's cane moved him slowly for the fireplace. The others patiently waited for him, only following once he entered the fireplace. Professor Dumbledore threw down the Floo Powder.
"Granger residence, Noigate," Professor Dumbledore said.
Neville read the paper in Finnigan's pastel blue hands in the Great Hall.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Wednesday, 20 November 1996
The Evening Prophet
Statement from the Minister
"Today, Harry Potter assaulted his classmates, threatened their very lives at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry by attempting the Killing Curse. Fortunately, his classmates took measures to contain him, only to be thwarted by the Headmaster. As to punishment, a rather short suspension has been issued. I take credit that Potter was at least suspended from the mandate issued by the board of governors preventing the matter from being swept under the rug."
"At least somebody understands the truth," Finnigan stated.
A grandfather clock chimed out five bells, five–o–clock, as the group stumbled out of the Granger fireplace into the dark living room.
"Where are the candles?" Fudge asked.
"This way," Hermione said, putting her backpack down.
Ron dropped his next to hers, followed fast as she walked over for the opening to the kitchen; she flipped the switches and lights illuminated both the kitchen and living room. Harry followed.
"How soon?" Fudge asked as he followed the Headmaster into the kitchen. Professors Tonks and Snape came in.
"Process," Professor Dumbledore said.
Professor Dumbledore conjured up three tea cups with daisy flowers decorating the sides. He divided the yellow potion from the white flask evenly between the three cups.
"Mr. Potter, your consumption of this vecturaveneficum is strictly a personal request and voluntary," Professor Dumbledore said, "Until you drink the antidote—which is at Hogwarts, do not attempt any form of magical transportation—you will be restricted to purely Muggle means, or brooms and carpets at least two hundred miles away from Scotland. And I need the three of you to sign this consent document now and after consumption."
Professor Dumbledore laid out a roll of parchment along with a quill. Ron recognized the quickness with Harry's hand, signed it fast in red, without reading the contents. Ron grabbed the quill, felt it draw as he signed, realized the blood quill was more than just a gag from Fred and George
"We acknowledge the risks on penalty of death?" Hermione asked, her eyebrows raised.
"At least one bothers to read what they sign," Professor Snape said, dryly.
"If you were truthful in your plans, then you will not experience it," Professor Dumbledore said.
"Just do it," Harry said, "Trust me."
Hermione groaned, grabbed the quill, and signed.
"Though the chef could stand some taste lessons from Madam Pomfrey," Harry said just after he swallowed the potion from the right cup.
"That bad?" Ron asked before he drank the middle cup that made dragon fodder a better appetizer.
Hermione trembled slight as she went for hers.
"Cheers," Harry said.
Hermione quickly frowned as she consumed hers.
"Now sign here," Professor Dumbledore said, pointing to the second set of lines, "It asserts that you did, in fact, consume the vecturaveneficum. Afterwards, the rest of us will sign as witnesses to this consumption and that this is not Hogwarts."
"That is obvious," said Professor Snape.
All of them signed the parchment.
"I will arranged for this fireplace to be disconnected in twenty minutes," Fudge said, "It will be reconnected when I authorize it—it is nice, the liberties that an ex–Minister is granted." Fudge Disapparated.
"Make the most of your time." Professor Dumbledore led Professors Snape and Tonks back to the fireplace, where they all vanished.
Hermione glared for a moment.
"We best be going," Harry said.
Harry and Ron picked up the backpacks from the living room. Hermione secured the lock as they left the residence into the chilly evening with strong winds.
"A week huh?" Ron asked.
"A week," Harry replied.
Ron snickered at the frown on Hermione's face as they walked along Queen Mary's Road.
"You didn't read it, did you?" Hermione asked.
"I trust Dumbledore," Harry replied.
Harry clutched his forehead, dropped to his knees beneath a street lamp. Ron glanced at those eyes, cast the spell, saw as Harry saw it.
"I have heard reports," said Voldemort, "About today."
"An isolated incident," said Professor Snape, his hood drawn back as he was on his knees before the Dark Lord.
"An attempt on Potter's life is not an isolated incident," Voldemort said, "You did not intervene."
"I thought you had wanted—" Professor Snape said.
"Dead by MY hands!" Voldemort said, "For that, Potter is needed, alive. Crucio!"
Professor Snape gritted the teeth. Voldemort felt the pain within him, pain that reminded him that he was very much alive. Voldemort redirected that pain out through his wand. Professor Snape writhed on the floor.
Ron reached down, offered his hand. Harry grabbed it and Ron pulled him back up.