Apologies for the late chapter. Reading it back, it is a bit shorter than I would've liked, but as it's two in the morning, I suppose it'll have to do. In better news, I should be returning to a more normal schedule in the upcoming weeks, which may also entail a return to weekly chapters. I will keep you all up to date, should such a change occur.

I've started a Discord. I intend for it to be a small, relaxed server - nothing to fancy or grand. If you have any questions about my writing, want to discuss my work, or simply want to hang out, you're more than welcome to join. The link is in my profile.

Read, review, and feel free to point out any errors/inconsistencies.

The next chapter will be published the coming Saturday.


Harry Potter: A Flaw in Fate

The Blackest of Nights

XVI. The Shadows We Surpass

The sweet aroma of melting chocolate wafted through the air, curving gently around Harry's nose. A gentle sigh left his lips, and he leaned closer, gratefully accepting the cup of hot chocolate from Hagrid.

"Thanks." he gasped, having scarfed down several hot gulps, "I think I nearly froze to death on the walk down here."

Hagrid shook his gargantuan head, crashing into the seat beside him.

"Ruddy dementors." he grumbled, fiddling with a wooden mug the size of a barrel, "They've got no business bein' near Hogwarts!"

"They'll have to leave eventually." Harry assured both Hagrid and himself, "They can't just stay forever, can they?"

Hagrid shook his head again.

"If the Ministry has it their way, they will." he snarled, "The only sure way ter get rid o' them is ter catch Lestrange, an' they ain' even close ter managin' that."

Harry fought to keep his face straight, pinching himself beneath the table.

You have no idea.

"Nevermind all that." he said eventually, pushing his mug aside, "I wanted to show you something."

His fingers reached into the depths of his robes, removing a small stack of wrinkled parchment. He sorted through them, organizing them neatly along Hagrid's table.

"Madam Pince would probably have me killed if she found out about this, but I doubt she'll ever know. She's got no reason to read up on court cases, especially not any about magical creatures."

He pulled one of the papers out of the stack, shoving it before Hagrid's gaze.

"This one's a bit like yours." he said, flipping it around and reading aloud, "'Hippogriff Exonerated on Account of Provocation.' Some prat like Malfoy pissed one of them off, but he couldn't press charges because he was properly warned about provoking them. It's almost identical to your case."

Only that guy wasn't Malfoy, and his father didn't have the courts in his pocket.

"Hermione showed me that one." Hagrid muttered, "She says it's outdated. They made dozens o' new laws since."

Oh.

Harry slumped in his seat, staring at what remained of his stack.

"There are others here." he mumbled hopefully, his fingers sliding across the pile, "I reckon some of them could be of use."

Not as much as that one, though.

"Don' worry." Hagrid gently waved his hands, his eyes glassy again, "Dumbledore's doin' everythin' he can. I - I'm sure Beaky'll be alright."

Harry nodded somberly. Hagrid pawed at his eyes with the back of his hands.

"We've got better things ter talk 'bout, anyway." he said after some time, "How've yeh been gettin' along? Still top o' yer class?"

Harry snorted.

"I don't think I ever was. Hermione's got me beat in nearly everything. Daphne, too."

Probably a couple of the Ravenclaws as well.

"That's only fer now." said Hagrid seriously, "It's yer finals that matter - that's all anyone seems ter care 'bout, anyway. Yeh get to use yer wand fer that, it isn' all paperwork."

Memories poured inside his skull. An Auror with bright, bubble-gum pink hair popped into his mind, standing beside another with hazel eyes and hair coloured a gentle brown. Harry frowned.

"I've been wondering about that." said Harry, straightening up, "Aren't our scores supposed to be private?"

Hagrid nodded slowly. Harry's frown furthered.

"Then why does everyone seem to know mine?"

"Because it's yeh, I reckon." boomed Hagrid, "Who was it?"

"Aurors. The ones that accompanied me to King's Cross at the start of term."

"That'll be it." said Hagrid knowingly, "Or maybe they jus' talked to ol' Griselda."

"Who?"

"Griselda Marchbanks." said Hagrid, "Governor o' the Wizarding Examining Authority, or summat like that. She'll be there when yeh take yer O.W.L.s and yer N.E.W.T.s."

"What's she like?" asked Harry curiously.

Hopefully she isn't too harsh of a grader.

Hagrid shrugged.

"A bit like McGonagall, I suppose." he mumbled thoughtfully, "Cares more 'bout usin' magic than writin' about it - the Ministry don' like that 'bout her. I reckon they don' like the idea o' witches and wizards who actually know a thing o' two 'bout anythin."

Harry smirked, raising his cup to his lips.

Of course they don't.

Time whirled. After a long, comfortable afternoon, the sky outside grew dim, and the air that seeped through the cabin's cracks felt colder. Harry shivered, edging towards the crackling fireplace.

"Yeh'd best be on yer way." Hagrid boomed, standing up. The hut shook as he did, "Don' want them dementors catchin yeh on yer own."

"I know." mumbled Harry, "I've been reading all about them. They might not be a problem, soon."

Hagrid turned around.

"Found a solution, did yeh?"

Harry paused. The dregs of faint, silvery wisp lingered in his mind.

"Er - I'm working on it."

It might take a while, though.

"Yeh should be proud, yeh know." Hagrid said knowingly, eyeing his frowning features, "Not supposed ter be easy, that Patronus Charm. Don' get discouraged, that's all."

Harry nodded slowly, fumbling with his Invisibility Cloak as he stepped out the door.

-(xXx)-

"Expecto Patronum."

Silvery wisp fell feebly from the tip of his wand. Harry coughed as it slowly rose into the air, slipping into his lungs.

"You'd better knock it off." Nott muttered from beside him, "It looks like smoke from far away. McGonagall will think you're trying to burn the place down."

Harry looked up. Sure enough, Professor McGonagall was eyeing him carefully, her catlike pupils latched to where the wisps had once been. Harry waited with baited breath for her to storm over, but she merely spun around, barking something at Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil.

"She doesn't seem to care much." Harry noted quietly.

She must not like the Dementors, either.

"Well, I do." snapped Nott, "We won't be allowed out til we've finished our work, and supper's in a few minutes. You can burn the place down later."

Harry rolled his eyes, turning to the rooster that sat before them. It stared uncertainly at Harry, its eyes wide with alarm, but didn't move an inch.

"Remove the Unfreezing Charm." Nott said, scanning the instructions in the textbook, "It might mess with the spell."

Harry stared at the rooster.

"Promise you won't peck me?" he asked slowly, "Not even a little?"

The chicken remained still, its eyes as wide as ever.

"Yes, he promises." mumbled Nott, "Now hurry up and undo it."

"I want to hear him say it."

Now Nott stared at him, too.

"It's a chicken, you fucking idiot. And you conjured it. It won't do shit to you."

Harry frowned.

"I conjured the last one, too, and it still pecked the shit out of me."

Back there. In the chamber, with . . . Voldemort.

Nott snorted.

"I'm sure this one knows better. Now hurry up, or I'll transfigure you."

Harry sighed. His wand curved through the air, pressing gently against the chicken's beak with a soft tap.

Squawk!

"Ouch!"

Heavily-feathered wings flapped against his robes as the rooster jumped into the air. Harry swore loudly as it dove headfirst into him, pecking at him with a righteous fury.

"Get - off - you - miserable - little - shit!"

Pop.

Harry doubled over, breathing heavily. Faint footsteps clattered across the floors. Harry watched as the hem of emerald green robes slid across the wooden floorboards.

"This is certainly one of the more . . . unique transfiguration attempts I've seen today." Professor McGonagall noted.

Harry looked up. He fought back a groan upon seeing a platter of roast chicken, covered with gravy and sauce. Behind McGonagall, Nott was bouncing in his seat, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

"But impressive nonetheless." decided McGonagall eventually, "Take ten points for Slytherin."

She spun around, making her way back to the front of the classroom. Harry swore he could see her reflection smiling in the window.

"Not bad." said Nott, popping a bit of chicken into his mouth, "Especially considering you conjured it. I'd have thought it'd taste like nothing."

Harry frowned.

Right. That instinctual shit again.

The floorboards creaked beneath thundering feet. Harry watched as his classmates filed out of the room, blindly reaching for his bag. Nott slowly swam into view.

"Coming?"

Harry shook his head.

"No." he slipped his bag along his left shoulder, standing up, "There's something I want to practice."

"Patronus?"

Harry nodded.

"I'll tell Daphne, then." said Nott tiredly, "If she's there, anyway - I dunno where the hell she is -"

"She's with Astoria." Harry told him, "She told me earlier."

"She skipped Transfiguration to hang out with her sister?" balked Nott. Harry shrugged.

"That's what she told me."

And what the Marauder's Map said, too.

The two of them stumbled along the Transfiguration corridor, waving goodbye to Professor McGonagall as they left the room.

"Still," Nott was saying, "You'd think she'd care a bit more about getting in trouble."

"Not really." said Harry, "I expect there are some things that are more important. Family must be one of them."

Nott frowned.

"I wouldn't know."

Harry felt something tightening within his chest, his lips tightening into a thin slit.

Neither would I.

-(xXx)-

"Expecto Patronum, Expecto Patronum, Expecto - EXPECTO -"

Harry doubled over, coughing as the silvery mist swum around the room. Though it shone with a bright, ethereal light, it refused to take form. Harry watched as it turned and twisted with a silklike grace, eventually dissolving into nothingness.

Tempus.

"Shit." Harry muttered, staring at the numbers before him, "Ten minutes before curfew."

Snape will kill me if he catches me out of bed again.

He quickly scrambled towards the door of the Room of Requirement, holding his arm aloft. The Marauder's Map silently zoomed into it, but his Invisibility Cloak stayed stubbornly upon the shelf across the room.

"Come on," Harry moaned, his fingers curving in, "Not now, I need to go!"

The cloak twitched - Harry almost imagined it was hesitating - then it flew across the room, draping itself over Harry's robes. Harry sighed with relief, watching as the room's archway doors quietly creaked open.

The halls of Hogwarts remained blissfully in the dark, lit up only by the spare torches that lined the walls. Harry silently made his way down the corridor and towards the stairs, bounding down the staircases three at a time. His gaze switched from before him to the map and back again -

Woosh.

Harry looked up. The open air of the Astronomy tower pressed against his skin, sending cool chills up his spine. In the distance, Harry could make out the blurred forms of large, cloaked figures. They hovered along the edge of the forest, frost coating the trees that sat in their wake.

Harry's fingers slid across his wand. He stared off towards the forest, pulling it from his pocket.

Perhaps that's why. Maybe I just need a bit of motivation.

There were dementors closer than the edge of the forest. Harry spotted a line of them within the Quidditch Pitch. They twisted inhumanly in the air. Dark, moldy grey skin poked from beneath tattered robes, drooping with a quality that was unmistakably dead -

His mind shuddered. Someone stood at its center - a boy, one with jet black hair, emerald eyes, and soft, pale skin. Beside him stood a girl with skin equally fair, her blonde hair tied up in intricate braids. He was smiling. Her arms were wrapped around a girl who looked very similar to her. But she was a little younger, her hair coloured brown and her skin paler yet.

A boy stood on his other side. His dark hair was cut short, his lips curved into a rare smile. His Slytherin robes were somewhere between ornate and uncared for, as though he had simply plucked the first set from his closet. Not that it mattered; they were all the same, after all.

Other faces stood behind theirs. They were vague, though - Harry had a hard time recognizing any of them at all. Some of them looked familiar - a man with half-moon spectacles, and a long, silvery beard stood in the background, amongst others. Harry didn't know what to make of that.

"Lies . . ."

Harry shivered. A pair of crimson eyes shone amongst the sea of blank faces. Emily's fingers slid across a wand white as bone, curving it gracefully through the air. A gargantuan serpent of emerald flames shot into the air, crashing down into the crowd.

Harry turned away. He could smell the stench of ashes that weren't there. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Emily strode forwards, the emerald serpent coiling around her. A sea of broken bodies and melted skin lay along the earth that separated them.

"No wonder it isn't working." she whispered softly, "What makes you happy, that's what it is . . ."

She trailed off, staring at something. The pale form of Daphne glimmered in the corner of Harry's eye. She shook from head to toe, trembling with fear, but her lips curved into a determined slit. Emily glared at her.

"I'll deal with you later." she hissed angrily, "But fine. Stay, for now."

Crimson faded to hazel. Harry felt her skin atop his, its texture smooth like butter.

"Expecto Patronum."

Something large burst from the tip of his wand. Leathery wings batted through the air, holding its skeletal body aloft. Harry watched as it flew down from the Quidditch Pitch, basking the snow in a glow of silver and blue.

"He's beautiful."

Harry spun sharply. Atop the closest wall within the tower sat Astoria Greengrass and Luna Lovegood. They watched as the Patronus bounded off into the darkness, chasing the Dementors across the pitch.

"What are you doing out here?"

"Thinking." Luna hummed to herself, "It's an awfully nice place to do that."

Harry frowned. He turned to Astoria, watching her speculatively.

"I thought you were with your sister?"

"I was." agreed Astoria, "But she went looking for you. She must've not found you, then."

She hopped down from the shelf, brushing dust from her robes before straightening up. Harry turned back to Luna. She had finally torn her eyes from the Patronus, choosing to stare at him instead.

"Is it true that you and Fudge are working to create an army of Heliopaths?"

"What?" Harry sputtered. Astoria giggled from beside him, "No, I'm - we're not."

"Oh." Luna sounded disappointed, "I thought you might've been. They're flaming horses, you know - I thought that was what you were doing just now."

"That's a Patronus, Luna." said Astoria cheerfully, "They protect people from dementors. Like radish with Nargles."

Luna nodded, as though whatever Astoria had said made all the sense in the world. She turned back to the Quidditch pitch, watching the glowing creature once more.

"It really is beautiful." she said dreamily.

Harry nodded, staring at it.

"We'd better get going." he said at last, "Curfew starts any minute now."

Astoria nodded. She skipped towards the door, pausing to wait for him.

"Coming, Luna?"

The blonde girl slowly shook her head.

"Oh, no." she mumbled softly, "I've got to find my shoes. The Nargles took them again."

Harry's gaze lowered. Her feet swayed merrily, her toes curving beneath the cool evening air. His eyebrows furrowed.

"Good luck finding them." he said as he made his way towards the door, "I'll see you around."

"Goodbye, Harry Potter."

And she turned back to the patronus, watching it with an expression as dreamy as ever.

The air grew warm as they trekked deeper within the castle. Harry slowly led Astoria down to the Slytherin dormitory, an eye on the Marauder's Map.

"Daphne never mentioned you could do a Patronus." said Astoria, skipping past a tapestry of a knight getting pummeled by his own sword.

"Daphne doesn't know."

"She'll be pleased when she does. She and mum were talking about them during Christmas last year." Astoria remembered, "Mum said she achieved it during her last year at Hogwarts. Daphne says that's really impressive."

Harry shrugged.

"I wouldn't know." he whispered, pocketing the map, "But I'm not surprised. Sometimes it felt like I'd never manage it."

Astoria nodded, watching him.

"You're really impressive, you know." she told him, "Daphne's right about you. Mum would never believe it, what you did today. She and dad don't believe her, either. About you."

Harry chuckled.

"Did you?"

Astoria nodded seriously.

"Daphne doesn't lie about stuff like this." She said, "She thinks you're special. She says you'll be great, one day."

Harry felt something fuzzy in his chest. A smile slipped across his lips.

"She thinks so?"

"Knows so. She says there's a difference."

Harry chuckled gently, shaking his head.

"Come on," he said, his eyes falling upon a clock at the end of the wall, "We've got about thirty seconds before Snape turns the both of us into potions ingredients."

The pair bounded along the corridor, heading down towards the dungeons and out of sight.

-(xXx)-

Crack.

Neville hissed, glaring daggers at the chair across the room. It stayed stubbornly still, just as untouched as it had been moments ago. Gold silk surrounded its leathery red base, held up by four wooden legs shaped like those of a griffin. On its back was a picture, clad to the chair's spine with spellotape. A woman with long, curly black hair danced merrily upon it. Neville watched as she bounced up and down in her frame. He snarled.

"Diruo!"

Golden light sputtered from the tip of his wand, fading into nothingness. Neville swore.

The witch on the front page of the prophet was giggling. Neville watched as he ducked over, clutching her ribs as her lips tore apart.

"Weak - just like your mummy, aren't you Nevy-poo . . ."

No.

"Diruo!"

The golden light fizzled out again. Neville stared desperately at the tip of his wand, brandishing it with all his might.

"Diruo! Diruo! DIRUO -"

Wham.

Neville moaned, his jaw clenching as he slammed into the edge of the Gryffindor Common room. Thick, metallic-tasing liquid trickled down his lips. He wiped it away with the back of his hand, listening for the soft clambering of footsteps.

None arrived.

Slowly he pushed himself up. The image in the prophet stared up at him tauntingly.

Breathe . . . focus.

Neville closed his eyes.

Silvery hair wisped across his vision. They fell into thick curls, adorning the skull of a pale-skinned woman. She watched him with beady eyes, clutching a handbag in one hand and a stuffed vulture hat in the other.

"I thought you wanted this?" Augusta Longbottom asked, almost bored. The handbag rose to her lips, stifling a yawn, "You've got one chance, boy. It won't come again."

Neville twitched. He felt the wood of his father's wand burning against his skin.

"Will you allow opportunity to evade you?" she whispered, "It's fleeing . . . the moment's almost gone. It'll be too late, one day. And then, never again . . ."

His lips clenched. Neville winced as his nails pricked at his skin.

"Diruo."

Crack.

His eyes slid open. Before him, the tattered remains of the Daily Prophet lay scattered across the floor. Behind it, splintered wood sat among a pile of red and gold feathers, marking where the cushioned armchair had once been.

Neville let out a sigh of relief, breathing heavily.

I did it. I can do it.

He allowed the gentle warmth to spread across his body, basking in the feeling. It felt glorious.

"Neville."

Cold skin pressed against his. A hand - smaller than his own, and gentler, too - weaved itself into his.

"You did it." Hermione whispered kindly, "And you said you couldn't."

Neville nodded, grinning faintly.

I did it.

Hermione gently pulled him towards the stairs, wiping at her eyes tiredly.

"Come, Neville." she mumbled, pulling him along, "Let's get you back to bed."

Neville followed after her, his eyes latched to the tattered photo of Bellatrix Lestrange.

She wasn't laughing anymore.