McGonagall's office was deserted when its fireplace suddenly came alive and spat out an old wizard in a cloud of greenish flames and black smoke. The man — clad in ostentatious robes — bounced off the hard floor like a ragdoll and was eventually stopped by the sturdy desk of the Head of House Gryffindor.

The fireplace belched a few more times, spraying sparks and soot everywhere, then it fell silent.

Unlike the Headmaster's office, there was now near absolute silence in the room.

No clocks, no strange devices that puffed and whirred, not even talkative magical portraits. The office wasn't devoid of magical portraits, though, it just so happened that their occupants had wandered off to chat with their neighbors or try and get to a frame hanging in the Grand Staircase, where Harry Potter had done something or other a few hours before.

So maybe it was the absence of sound that caused Albus Dumbledore to regain consciousness.

He groaned as he felt a massive headache coming on between his temples. Gingerly, he sat himself up and reached for his wand. His nose was bleeding again, painting his beard in scarlet colors.

The old wizard realized what had happened as he looked at the fireplace, recognizing his friend's office. It was dangerous to fall unconscious during Floo travel — or falling into it while unconscious — because the magic wasn't gentle.

Broken bones were equally as possible as lost limbs or even more horrendous bodily harm, or simply getting lost in the metaphysical in-between of the Floo network. Legend had it that in the 16th century, a Hogwarts Professor had entered his fireplace drunk and never come out on the other side, still being in transit… somewhere.

That he, Albus, would make a blunder like this, on a day as pivotal as today…

The Headmaster didn't quite believe in fate as having independent agency but the thought entered his mind that somehow things were conspiring against him, that reality had aligned behind Harry, but not him.

Or maybe it was just the castle itself, although there was nothing about this observation that put him at ease. Harry had begun to claim Hogwarts as his own, even though he wasn't quite aware of that fact as far as Albus could tell. It made things much more complicated, though, since wards and other magical installations would eventually stop working in the Headmaster's favor, no matter his position in the school's hierarchy. A stubborn office door would be the least of Albus' problems if this continued, and that in turn would spell disaster to his plans regarding Voldemort.

But there was still time.

No matter what Harry and Hermione had done in the Forbidden Forest — he granted himself to feel a slight discomfort at the thought of those two being physically intimate with each other since they were so very young — there was still a window of opportunity.

Albus hadn't lied to Severus when he'd admitted a lack of knowledge of Sentinel lore, but he suspected that some of the basic mechanics of the bond between Sentinel and Guide shared similarities with other magical bonds and contracts.

Hence the entire idea to cause Voldemort to make yet another, more… special Horcrux.

He stood up but stopped mid-motion.

Similarities… there'd been an old text about werewolves and Sentinels he'd read decades ago… something about being able to sniff each other out?

Remus!

So that's why Harry's former teacher had been acting so strangely during his recent visit. He'd probably already sensed the presence of a Sentinel in Hogwarts. Why hadn't he said anything?

Was Remus trying to protect Harry?

But of course he was. Still seeking absolution for something that wasn't his fault.

Albus had to stop the werewolf before he'd turn other members of the order against him. Things were hanging by a thread at this point, and an intervention on Harry's behalf — no matter how well meant — would pose a serious threat to the trap that Albus had been building for Voldemort.

The Sentinel-Guide bond had changed things, and they absolutely needed another fallback. It was unthinkable, yet inevitable. The necessity to act had become too strong to fall back into the familiar routine of hesitant speculation.

With some effort, Albus found his footing again and cast a Scouring Charm as well as a few other spells on himself before he gingerly walked out of McGonagall's office. Outside, students were milling about, and he nodded to them in passing. He was used to their whispers.

In the Grand Staircase, he noticed that a lot of folks mingled around the third floor, pointing to the surrounding walls or the floor.

There were in fact patches where the stonework appeared to be fresh, and some of the magical portraits had switched places.

Also, a few pieces of debris were floating in the air.

Albus stopped to take in the sight.

"Headmaster?" A young Hufflepuff student had worked up the courage to talk to him. "Did you punish Harry? Did Snape… did Professor Snape really die?"

"I fear you have me at a disadvantage, Miss Atkinson", he said to the raven-haired girl. "I just came back from an unexpected trip that kept me rather busy. What do you mean, exactly?"

The Hufflepuff stared at him wide-eyed as her friends gasped a few steps above them. "I… I think… Professor Sprout would know… you don't know what happened? Weren't you here before?" she stammered. "Harry set the castle on fire!"

"He didn't!" said an older student from above. "Stop spreading lies, Summer!"

"I'm not!" she yelled back. "Totally happened!"

Albus tried to stay calm and not give in to the rising panic.

Fire?

Severus… dead? That couldn't be.

No, he knew the man wouldn't risk everything on a gamble until he was absolutely sure of it, and Severus had obviously not been on board with Albus' plan regarding their resident Sentinel-Guide pair. Outside interference was however a possibility.

"Please, everyone, stay calm," he said and raised his hand — glad to have fixed his bandage and to have shrouded the grisly sight with a minor Illusion Charm before. "There's no need to work yourselves up like that, I'm sure Miss Atkinson firmly believes what she told us to be the truth."

He nodded to the girl. "I will seek out the other Professors, but for now please explain everything to me, and start from the beginning."

"It's probably a test", someone whispered.

~.~.~.o.~.~.~

Harry heard and smelled Hermione approaching long before she stepped into sight. Her scent told him that she'd been in the owlery and that she'd either run or exerted herself somehow. Her heartbeat was fast, but regular.

There was also something papery… no, parchment and leather?

Definitely books.

He turned away from the group of fidgeting adults who were pacing about the empty classroom like first-years who'd skipped classes for the first time. In a sense, it was even true — neither Professor McGonagall nor Professor Flitwick had ever tried to help students literally escape Hogwarts before, and Remus sure hadn't ever conducted a friendly kidnapping of his kind either.

"She's here," he said in a low voice, his senses focused on his approaching friend and Guide.

Also girlfriend? Maybe.

No, probably.

McGonagall turned toward the door. "Are you sure, Mister Potter?"

"Quite."

Remus frowned but nodded. "It's true, I can… sense her as well."

"What's with you, Remus?" Flitwick gave his former colleague a critical look. "You appear to be almost in pain? Is everything alright?"

The werewolf nodded. "Yes, of course, it's just…"

"It's me," Harry mumbled, still focused on Hermione who'd open the door any second now. "I'm making him uncomfortable when I'm concentrating on my surroundings."

"But why?"

Remus was about to reply but then stopped when the classroom door was opened by a blurry silhouette. Despite Harry's announcement, the Professors and Remus all reached for their wands when Hermione dismissed her Disillusionment Charm and closed the door.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall", she nodded. "Professor Flitwick, Mister Lupin." Her eyes landed on Harry and there was a visible shine to them when she tried and failed to hide a loving smile. "Hey."

Harry noted that his right hand had jerked toward her, his impulse to touch her almost overwhelming. But that wouldn't do with such a crowd present. "So I was right," he quipped instead. "You won't ever again forget to bring the Marauder's Map, eh?"

"Never." She carefully folded the old map and handed it to Harry. "I'm sorry that I'm so late. I came here as fast as possible when I saw all your names in this room. Did something new happen while I dealt with… while I was away?"

McGonagall's eyes narrowed in suspicion, but she refrained from commenting. She cleared her throat. "Thank you for arriving in a timely fashion, Miss Granger. The situation hasn't changed since last we saw each other, Professor Snape is still at St. Mungo's."

Hermione was absorbing everyone's reaction, and also the room's energy. Harry felt himself being calmer already as his excess energy flowed towards his Guide. Things became a bit clearer now and he didn't feel like he had to constantly hold back a flood.

"Did you know that the Headmaster has returned?" Hermione asked.

"Horace told me that Albus is back, but I haven't seen him yet." Professor Flitwick looked at Remus and McGonagall. "Are we sure that avoiding him is the best course of action now? I believe what you told me, and I've seen Harry's development with my own eyes, but still."

"I'm taking full responsibility, Filius," the Head of House Gryffindor replied. "And we're not permanently spiriting Mister Potter and Miss Granger away, we're simply helping them make it to a meeting outside of school. I still have misgivings about that, but considering the circumstances it might be the best for now."

Remus frowned again, but this time it wasn't caused by Harry's Sentinel aura. "If you plan to bring them back to Hogwarts in the afternoon, that's unwise. There's danger here, Minerva."

Hermione and Harry exchanged a secret glance, both annoyed at being talked over. Wordlessly, they decided to remain quiet for the moment, though.

McGonagall sighed. "I believe that you believe that, Remus and I'm willing to help. If both Miss Granger and Mister Potter are comfortable having a talk with you and Mister Weasley, I'll gladly facilitate your exit. But I don't plan to see them permanently leave the safety of this school on something that borders on a whim." She finally turned to the Sentinel and Guide. "Because even if there is someone here who plots against Mister Potter, it's still Hogwarts, with all its safety measures. It is much too dangerous to just run off into the countryside when we don't have any idea about… You-Know-Who's whereabouts."

Hermione perked up at that. "Oh… that might actually explain it." She turned to Harry and mouthed "Malfoy" to him.

Harry understood her meaning immediately, and he shivered.

Of course! Malfoy looking like a man on his way to the gallows, always sneaking around, trying to do something — Hermione probably knew at this point what the Slytherin had done — could all be explained with Voldemort giving the orders.

He was likely staying at Malfoy Manor at this point. What kind of life must that be for Malfoy's family? To house such a monster, not just repeat its hateful words?

He shuddered again.

"Explain what, Miss Granger?" Flitwick asked.

"Voldemort," Harry said, causing the adults to flinch. "He's probably hiding in Malfoy Manor."

McGonagall blanched. "What makes you say that, Mister Potter?"

"Malfoy — Draco, I mean — has looked physically ill for weeks now, and he's acting very suspiciously." Harry knew it sounded weak but he wasn't ready to mention the Room of Requirement to his Head of House.

"I don't believe that justifies an accusation such as this one, Mister Potter." McGonagall's face hardened as she spoke. "Please don't ever repeat it publicly unless you have solid evidence for such a serious claim."

Harry nodded, tired of the routine reaction. "Yes, Professor."

But then McGonagall surprised him by nodding back. "Don't mistake my words for not believing you, or Miss Granger," she said more evenly. "There are schemes afoot in Hogwarts, always have been and likely always will. These days, they seem however to revolve around youi n one way or another." Her eyes darted from Harry to Hermione. "We must be careful, though. I will try and find out what I can from Albus, he owes me more than an explanation at this point."

"But we're still leaving?" Remus motioned to the door.

McGonagall sighed. "Yes, Remus, you can have your talk with Mister Potter." She turned back to Harry. "I trust that you know a way to get out of the castle without being seen?"

Now it was Harry's turn to frown. "Err… yes, Professor!"

"Very well. I won't ask how so I don't have to deduct House points from Gryffindor," McGonagall continued and there might have been a ghost of a smile on her lips. "Filius, let's you and I find Albus and have a talk about what the bloody hell is going on in Hogwarts."

The tiny Professor smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. "Gladly."

"Remus, I will contact you this afternoon. Miss Granger, Mister Potter, I hope you do find some answers or at least a measure of clarity." McGonagall's eyes locked onto Harry one last time but she didn't say anything.

He understood the message anyway.

He wouldn't run away and hide, no matter the fallout from his fight with Snape.

They watched the two Professors leave.

"Harry, I'm glad that you trust me enough to accompany me," Remus said. "There is much I want to talk to you about, and time is scarce. Now, originally we'd planned that Charlie would meet with Miss Granger in London and —"

She interrupted him. "Please call me Hermione, if you like." Then she blushed slightly at being so forward, which in turn caused Harry's focus to waver as he heard the blood rush to her cheeks and also smelled her anxiety.

Remus chuckled once. "Of course, Hermione it is. So our original plan has changed, and we'd like to talk to both of you at the same time. It's easier and safer that way."

"That sounds reasonable. Where are we going?"

"Yorkshire, specifically York", the werewolf said. "To my house. Charlie's already there."

"Oh." Harry hadn't known about the house, but he'd never really thought about it after essentially losing contact with the man who'd once been his father's close friend. Of course, Remus had to live somewhere.

With Tonks, probably?

"Now tell me, how do you plan to get us out of here?" Remus unconsciously took on a Professor's pose. "Disillusionment Charm, the way Hermione arrived here? That was a remarkably good casting, by the way", he said to her. "The way you dismissed it so easily and wordlessly also speaks of a certain proficiency."

Hermione smiled. "Thank you. I've had some practice."

"Too much of it, if anything," Harry added in a low voice. "But yes, I think we should disillusion ourselves and then sneak down to the third floor and use the secret passageway that leads to the Honeydukes cellar."

"Ah, of course." Remus nodded. "That might be our best option. I trust that you're able to notice anyone who might observe us?"

"Harry!" Hermione stepped closer and reached out to hold his arm. "There are still a lot of students around that area. Maybe even Dumbledore, at least he was in the Grand Staircase when I came over here."

In response, he unfolded the Marauder's Map and they all inspected the area she was talking about.

"Albus is back in his office, Minerva and Filius are joining him at this very moment," Remus observed. "So that's good news… Wait, who's that?"

They inspected the two additional name tags in the Headmaster's office.

"Lionel Kowalski and Catherine McNabb" Hermione read out loud. "I don't think those are students."

Harry shook his head. "Never heard those names before."

Suddenly, Remus drew a sharp breath, causing Harry to flinch. But the werewolf pointed towards the map. "Look!"

The name tags of Dumbledore's visitors had changed. There were still five people in the office, seemingly conversing in front of the Headmaster's desk, but now the map told them that Dumbledore was entertaining a certain 'Mafalda Owler' and a 'Sebastian Nightingale' in addition to the Professors McGonagall and Flitwick.

"Maybe they used the Floo?" Harry wondered.

"I don't think so…" Hermione stared at the names. "They're too far away from the fireplace…"

They watched as the names changed again.

"I have an idea what this is", Remus finally said. "Or rather who."

Hermione nodded as if he'd already told her something she'd already suspected. "Unspeakables?" she asked.

"How did you know?" The former Defense Professor stared at her in admiration.

"I think I heard them arrive when I was outside, down at the Black Lake. They apparated to the Entrance Gates."

Harry angled his head. "Are they here because of me? Wouldn't the Ministry rather send aurors?"

"In all likelihood? Yes." Remus stepped back. "Which means we need to go, now."

"I agree, but Hermione's right, it's rather busy around the third floor." Harry pointed to the numerous name tags that moved around the area of the Grand Staircase. "I mean, the second staircase you told me about might still be there?"

Hermione indicated another entry on the map that hadn't been there yesterday. "It is, look here." She turned to Remus. "This map is simply brilliant. How does it display recent changes to Hogwarts' layout? That must've been an incredibly complicated set of enchantments you cast back when you made this."

The werewolf was staring at the Marauder's Map. "We were so proud of it," he said. "I mean, we really did worked our buts off to make this work, but we didn't expect it to end being this good."

Harry was still investigating the new staircase. "So we go down to the second floor, then what?"

"There's supposed to be a narrow set of stairs going back to the floor above. Here, at the end of this eastern corridor." Her finger moved across the map. "I remember the twins talking about it years ago."

"I'm familiar with those stairs", Remus said. "They're seldom used and probably full of cobwebs, but they exist. I used them during my student days, occasionally."

"Then… then I think we have our escape route." Harry folded the map again and stuffed it under his robes. "Ready?"

Hermione had already drawn her wand. "Ready," she said.

~.~.~.o.~.~.~

Having finally found the latest issue of his Quidditch magazine, Ron decided to ditch the deserted dormitory in favor of the Common Room. It was always nice to have other people around, especially now that Harry and Hermione were off to do… how knows what.

Probably making out.

He tried to swallow the hot anger he felt at that vivid image.

Hermione wasn't supposed to look at Harry like that… she was just… a friend? Harry's friend, not his girlfriend! There'd been something between him and Hermione, and he had problems putting his finger on what exactly that was — other than being unable to simply accept her as part of his surroundings, the way he did with, say, Parvati.

It was maddening, if not more so than the image of Hermione kissing Harry.

That was just wrong.

He needed to distract himself, maybe find someone to play chess against. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, Ron scanned the room for potential match mates, and his eyes fell on his sister.

Ginny sat alone by one of the windows, staring off into space while biting her nails. The last time he'd seen her like that was back in her first year when she'd been tormented by that bloody diary.

Ron took a breath. He didn't want to get involved in some girl drama, but he didn't like seeing Ginny like that. All alone, forgotten — like Harry and Hermione had left her behind, too. Her lack of support when that bitch Bones had decked him still rankled with him, but he was willing to overlook that for now. Time to be a brother.

"Hey Gin," he said as he walked over to her, ignoring Seamus and Dean on the large couch.

She didn't react and he sat down at her side, his mood now somber.

"Gin? What's up?"

"Hm?" She blinked a few times before focusing on him. "Oh, it's you."

Ron's anger came back with a vengeance. "Sorry to disappoint, but the Boy-Who-Lived isn't here" he snapped. "Just little old me."

Ginny nodded absently, unbothered by his words. "Hm."

"Are you angry with Harry, or what's this about?"

"No…"

Ron crumpled his magazine in frustration. "Sure, and I'm Godric Gryffindor. You look like something's eating at you, Gin. Spill."

She turned to him. "I don't think you're interested in my worries, Ron. Lavender's probably missing you already, why don't you bother her instead."

"She's doing a hair thing with Padma and Parvati." He waved her off. "So I've got all the time."

Ginny shook his head. "It's nothing."

"Yeah." Ron tried to swallow his anger. "Well, have fun brooding then, I'm off to do something fun instead." But when he tried to get up to walk away, Ginny reached out and held his hand.

"Wait."

He stared at her, then her hand.

They'd never been really intimate with each other as siblings. Ginny hugged his older brothers, or even held hands with Bill or Charlie during one of their rare visits at home, but never with him. He'd noticed, of course, but never wished it to be different — it just felt weird to think of Ginny's body touching him like that.

She must've sensed his thoughts because she quickly let go of him. "I… I think something bad is happening right now. No, I know it is." Her eyes narrowed. "But I don't have any idea what to do. I'm powerless."

Ron's first instinct was to ask her what in Merlin's name she was talking about, but he suspected he already knew. "Is this about Harry's sensitivity? Or the way Hermione's been throwing herself at him?"

Ginny winced slightly and he knew he'd hit a mark, or however, that expression from Dean went. Thinking about his sister's on-and-off-again-boyfriend turned all the emotions in Ron's stomach sideways. He didn't exactly know how to feel about it.

"It's not that!" she said hotly.

"I know you've got feelings for Harry," he continued. "Everyone knows, Ginny. I think even Dean does."

She winced again and turned to look over Ron's shoulder. "Since when do you pay attention to what goes on with the people around you?" she mumbled. "I thought your awareness these days begins and ends with Lavender's face."

"Jealous much?"

She turned away from him to stare out of the window again. "Nah," she said. "I've got more serious problems than snogging."

Ron didn't get the exact meaning of her dismissal, but he felt it all the same. "Now wait a minute. What's that supposed to mean? And what's my girlfriend got to do with your moping?"

Ginny smiled. "Nothing."

"I… I don't understand."

She nodded again. "I know the feeling. It's all so bloody complicated."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Okay, Miss Drama Queen, ponder away then. If that's all, I need to find…"

"You know that Harry's a Sentinel and Hermione's a Guide? What that means? Not just for them, as friends and as… a bond, but also for us?" Her voice was eerily similar to Loony when she was muttering about dreams about Nargles.

"Please," Ron groaned. "That Sentinel stuff sounds completely ridiculous, I don't know what Hermione's thinking…"

Ginny then gave him a rather strange look that was both sad and exasperated. "You have no idea, don't you?" she whispered. "There's this huge thing happening to your best friends right now, and you're simply fooling around to fill your days instead of trying to help them?"

"I tried to, but they won't let me!" he yelled back. "I'm the odd one out, always the third wheel. Now if they're so bloody special all of a sudden they can have it! I don't need some Sentinel bullshit in my life to 'fill my day'!" Ron was aware they'd the entire Common Room's attention now, but he didn't care. It felt good to finally have an outlet for his anger. "But sure, you're still Harry's biggest fangirl, eh? Right after Hermione, of course, so you guys need to find an arrangement who's allowed to polish Harry's wand first."

He heard the smack of his sister's hand on his cheek before he felt a sharp pain.

Ginny stared at him angrily and wiped away a tear. "One of us was bound to be a rotten apple, I guess. Always thought it was Percy with his feverish reverence for the Ministry, but maybe it's you, Ron. I'm ashamed to share a House with you, you fucking coward."

She stood up but leaned close to him with such a hateful expression that he jerked back. "I was going to tell you about how you can't stun Hermione anymore because she somehow absorbs spells like that, I've seen it because she showed us, but those words would be wasted on you. And I sure as hell won't tell you about my feelings, Ronnikins. Go play with your chess figures or wank off to some Quidditch stars, the rest of us are busy having to deal with life."

She stormed off, ignoring Dean calling out and then running after her.

"What the fuck are you all staring at me for?" Ron asked loudly at the students in the Common Room. "Laughing at Weasley getting hit by a girl again? Ha-ha, so funny."

"If the shoe fits," someone on the far end of the room stage-whispered

"You mean his dress robes? We still have nightmares from those," came the answer from another corner, and a few people laughed nervously.

"How about you shut your mouths!" Ron angrily flipped the speakers off but remained where he was sitting.

Seamus said something to him from the couch, but he was too distracted to listen.

What the bloody hell had Ginny meant that Hermione was absorbing spells now? Speaking of, where were Harry and her right now? If the rumors were true, Harry had beaten Snape so badly they'd brought the overgrown bat to St. Mungo's, but people hadn't really seen his — former — friends since then.

McGonagall was also missing.

And Remus Lupin apparently had been seen walking the Grand Staircase earlier.

Ron thought back to when all this nonsense had begun when Harry's been screaming his lungs out. The days of uncertainty, of not knowing. Then there'd been that bloody attack in the corridors with a Sonorus Charm.

A pattern emerged, now that he looked back at all those events.

Hermione's strange behavior in the Grand Staircase. That disastrous meeting in the classroom that had left her crying — not his proudest moment at Hogwarts, for sure. And then Harry constantly being in the Hospital Wing, or in some Professor's office, or out in the Forbidden Forest.

Bones and the others running up and down the castle, trying to find Harry and Hermione.

And what was he doing right now?

Ron stared at the crumpled magazine still in his hand and didn't know how to answer that question. And he hated the empty feeling in his stomach that reminded him so much of fourth year, when he'd realized that Harry hadn't put his name in the goblet.

Intellectually, he knew where this line of thinking was going, but he didn't like it.

Before, he'd turned away and done anything but face his rather complicated emotions. Now, he was unable to… because he felt stuck. Stuck with nothing but his anger and his issues. Harry, being a martyr again but getting something special in return — again. Hermione, being difficult and seeing connections he couldn't follow.

Him being… nothing, really.

Just another Weasley running around in Hogwarts, and a rather mediocre student at that.

There was no one around to laugh with him but Lavender, and Ron's stomach churned painfully when he realized that for all the things he felt for her, she still wasn't Harry, or Hermione.

Was there some other mystical role beside Sentinel or Guide he could take? Anything to make it go away, to make everything like it'd been back in summer?

Where'd his friends gone?

Former friends?

"Fuck," he whispered.