A/N: Remember that this is an AU of HBP, so it won't be following events from the book.

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Chapter 4

He felt a sharp pain as Pomfrey cleansed the wound and sealed it. She shook her head at him.

"It's always something with you Mr. Potter, isn't it?"

Harry looked up sheepishly. It wasn't his fault that his skull just had to fall on the platform's sharp edge.

"Now let me see those wounds again." Reluctantly Harry took off his shirt. The red lines criss-crossing his belly were the only reminders of the Death Eaters cruelty. Pomfrey's eyes narrowed as she felt along the indentations. "No scarring," she murmured.

She straightened when she was done. "It's healing well. You can go now Mr. Potter."

Harry jumped off the bed. Then he realised: "Ma'am? I was just wondering if you could give me some more Dreamless Sleep?"

Madame Pomfrey regarded him sternly. "I don't think that would be wise young man."

Harry's stomach tightened and he glanced his disappointment towards the white walls. "Yes ma'am."

Her expression softened. "I can increase your refill to two times per week, but that is the most I can do."

Het let the corners of his mouth tug upwards gratefully: nothing like a bit of Dreamless Sleep to take the edge off your personal torture session broadcast.

888

Slughorn glanced doubtfully over the rim of Harry's cauldron. He gave a short shake of his head and went on to exclaim over Hermione's perfectly brewed magenta potion.

Harry stared sulkily at the slush-like substance that was supposed to pass for a blood-replenishing potion. While adding the glipher thorns he'd left the potion on open fire, when he should have turned it down to a small flame, or so Hermione had informed him.

Since the confiscation of the Prince's book, Potions class had gone downhill for Harry. At first Slughorn was bewildered over his sudden lack of Potions skills and reassured Harry that everyone had a bad day, but with each subsequent class Harry's status at the top of the pack dwindled further, until Slughorn apparently decided to ignore the matter altogether.

Hermione quickly put the dots together. She treated him to an endless stream of exclamations: he couldn't trust the Half-Blood Prince; hadn't he learned anything about books that concealed their identities; now he botched every potion because he hadn't learned the proper way of preparing the ingredients. Finally Harry snapped at her to kindly shut up about it.

Obviously he didn't tell her who the Half-Blood Prince really was. Hermione was already enjoying herself far too much; there was no need to add the fact that he had been drooling with admiration over Severus Snape.

As their teacher made his way back to the front of the class Hermione whispered: "Maybe you should ask Professor Slughorn for some extra tutoring."

Harry glared at her. "Have you noticed his opinion of my potions lately?"

Hermione capped the bottle on her sample. She vanished her potion and smiled hesitantly. "I could help you if you want."

He felt his lips quirk up involuntarily. "Alright."

Hermione beamed back.

"Please leave your samples at the desk as usual. Class dismissed," Slughorn was saying from behind his desk. Harry waved the contents of his cauldron away and placed his potions kit in his bag as everyone stood to deliver their brew.

"Mr. Potter, stay behind please. Miss Granger too if you will."

Harry put his bag down and waited while the class filed out. Malfoy gave him a rough shove as he passed, which Harry pretended not to notice. The last students closed the door and Slughorn floated the samples to the students' storage case. He then rotated his impressive girth to give them a generous smile.

"Ah, two of my favourite students! Miss Granger, how is that ambitious research project with Professor Sinistra coming along?"

"It's coming along fine, sir." Tiny spots appeared on her cheeks as she answered.

"And Mr. Potter, I hear you are quite the dueler in your Defence class!"

"Thank you sir." Harry hoped he'd get to the point soon.

"Yes, yes," Slughorn nodded, wringing his hands. "You'll be interested to know I am well acquainted with none other than Rimbly Zanthus – you've heard of him of course.'

"Ehm, not really"

"In any case," Slughorn waved it away, "he recently won the Birmingham dueling competition, and I'm sure I can persuade him to let you in on some of the techniques he uses." He looked at Harry questioningly.

"I- that would be great, sir, thank you."

"Excellent. Well, I won't be keeping you from your next class much longer. To get to the matter at hand: I would like to invite you both," - his gaze swept to include Hermione - "to attent an old tradition which I am as of this year reinstating at Hogwarts: the Vernal Equinox Ball."

Slughorn watched him expectantly. Harry studied Hermione from the corner of his eyes, who was grinning now.

"Really sir?" Harry hoped he sounded just pleased enough.

"I can't reveal any surprises of course, but I'll just say that a very interesting guest will make it's acquaintance." He gave Hermione a wink, who gave a shy smile in return. Slughorns' mysterious air suddenly turned brisk again: "Go along now or you'll be late for your next class."

They hurried out and through the dank dungeon corridors. As they rounded the corner to the entrance hall Harry wondered: "He didn't tell us the date."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's at the Equinox, silly. It celebrates the beginning of spring, when night and day have about the same length. This year it falls on the 20th of March I think."

Yes, he'd heard something about that. It used to be a wizarding tradition, long ago.

"Traditionally it's a coming of age celebration for young wizards and witches," Hermione echoed his thoughts. "The last time it was commemorated at Hogwarts was two centuries ago. It went out of fashion I believe. I'm curious what Slughorn is going to make of it."

"Knowing Slughorn it's most important goal will be to expand his collection of famous people."

Hermione laughed. "Probably. I can't wait to tell Ron!"

888

Dinner that day was a quite affair. The owls dropping off evening editions of the Daily Prophet came bearing grim tidings. They forgot all about informing Ron of Slughorns' latest machinations when they saw the newest headline. As Hermione perused her – since this year blessedly Skeeter-less – copy Harry sat down next to her and bend over the front page.

DEATH EATERS MURDER MINISTRY EMPLOYEE AND STEAL DOCUMENTS

Wednesday 12 March – This afternoon two Death Eaters disguised as employees were exposed in the Ministry of Magic, Department of Magical Cooperation. An observant employee whom the family wishes to remain anonymous, noticed the steady disappearance of classified documents, the specific content of which the Department refuses to disclose. Aurors speculate that the employee must have been notified by an alarm and confronted the imposters, who instantly issued a Killing Curse.

"They've both worked here for at least a year," Barabus Nigle explains, head of the Department for the last two years. "Nothing unusual about them, they brought in good connections, we made good deals. If it wasn't for that slip-up…".

The last months have seen a disconcerting increase in Death Eater activity leading to speculations on a growing Death Eater army. Amelia Bones of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement has issued a higher level of security for all Ministry Departments. A Ministry insider comments: "Definitely the work of You-Know-Who. This is a rough blow to the Ministry as well as our government partners."

"Voldemort," Harry muttered. "Why not say his name for a change?"

Hermione's hands fluttered on the pages. "Oh this is not good."

"Another killing on home ground," Ron commented grimly.

Hermione shook her head. "It's worse than that. Voldemort now has all kinds of sensitive information on the different magical governments that the Ministry trades with. Treaties, negotiations…"

The doors of the Great Hall opened and cut off Hermione's explanation. In walked a tall man in purple Auror robes, Luna Lovegood trotting at his heels. The student's murmurs died away as the Auror's brisk steps quickly took him to the High Table while Luna went to sit with her year mates. From across the hall Harry saw her getting hugs and pats from all sides.

His gaze swept back to the High Table where the Auror was discussing something with Dumbledore. The stranger nodded and walked back along the main aisle, his eyes intent on students left and right. Harry waited, expecting Dumbledore to make an announcement, but none came.

As dinner drew to a close Harry, Ron and Hermione waited in the great hall by the marble staircase. The mass of students filed out and climbed the different stairs up and down towards their respective dormitories. Eventually a teary-eyed Luna emerged. Hermione approached and Luna waved her friends off with a watery smile.

"Luna, what happened?" Hermione said as the four of them climbed the stairs towards Ravenclaw and Gryffindor Tower, clasping Luna's hand in hers.

Dwindling daylight shone through the first-floor windows and illuminated the tear tracks on Luna's face. Luna glanced between their faces. "My father died."

That stopped them short. Hermione's face crumbled and she pulled the orphaned girl close. Ron gave an awkward pat to her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry Luna," Harry said quietly when the girls straightened from their hug.

"Thanks, Harry."

Hermione took Luna by the arm. "Let's go to the kitchens and see if-"

"Touching," drawled a voice right behind him. Harry spun around, wand aimed in a heartbeat.

"Malfoy," Harry spat.

Ron and Hermione drew their wands as well, with Ron walking to stand firmly against his shoulder. Malfoy's frosty grey eyes glided towards Luna who was huddled against Hermione.

"Your father," Malfoy addressed Luna, ignoring the wands, "should've learned to keep his mouth shut if he knew what was good for him."

Luna regarded him calmly, apparently emboldened by the friends at her side. "At least everyone knows about your father now. Did he tell you how he tortures his Ministry colleges into submission?" She sounded genuinely curious.

"My father does no such thing!" Malfoy hissed. Harry's wand hand twitched with the desire to do serious damage.

A couple of Hufflepuffs passing by glanced towards their little group. Harry laid a quasi-relaxed hand on Luna's shoulder, his wand never straying from Malfoys head. "No need to defend your father to us Malfoy," he said airily. "We are all familiar with what a sick, pathetic excuse of a man he is. Does he still need to crawl in front of the Dark Lord or is he allowed to kneel again?"

"Harry!" Hermione whispered behind him.

Malfoy's wand hand was now quivering with his fury. He swept it in an unfamiliar pattern and blue light flew towards Harry, who shielded just in time.

Harry met his eyes over the shimmering shield. "Don't get your knickers in a twist Malfoy, he asks it of all his slaves." He knew goading Malfoy in so public a place was not such a good idea, but oh, how very easy it was…

Movement out of the corner of his eyes drew his attention: Hermione was striding away with one arm over Luna's shoulder. She glanced back at Harry with a look of great disappointment.

Embarrassment coloured Harry's cheeks as he stared after them. Here he was, picking a fight with Malfoy over Luna's dead father.

"You know," Malfoy was saying through clenched teeth, "It's interesting that you're calling him the Dark Lord now. What's up with that, Potter?" Again he flung a curse his way without using an incantation. Harry's concentration had wavered at his words and a trickle of it slipped through his shield. His wand hand burned and he shook it to get rid of the feeling.

Someone clasped his shoulder firmly. "Come on Harry, he's not worth it," Ron whispered in his ear.

Malfoy gave a short laugh. "Did you know Weasley, that he gets off on it, getting trounced by me? Or my father, from what I've heard." He raised an eyebrow. "His whip is a wicked thing, right Potter?"

In the next instant Harry's fist made contact with the self-satisfied smirk. Malfoy fell to the ground and Harry went with him, brought out of balance from the blow. Before Harry could get his bearings Malfoy turned their positions around, pushing a knee into his ribs. The air went out of Harry's lunges with a woosh.

"Confrigo!" Ron yelled behind them. In one fluid movement Malfoy switched his wand to his left hand while crushing Harry's to the ground with his right and shot a silent counter over his shoulder.

"Incarcerous. Dormio".

The Slytherin's hands didn't waver from Harry's when he spoke. A thud sounded behind them.

"Now that that's settled…" Malfoy disarmed Harry's numb wand hand, throwing the wand out of reach. A menacing grin broke out.

As grey eyes bored into green, the prickling feeling came back, like needles scourging his body. The sensation shifted from cold to hot and back. Harry began to feel light-headed. This time it seemed as if pure energy was flowing through his limbs, crackling along his skin. He suddenly knew he could make Malfoy pay, he could destroy him, he could-

"Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!"

Harry's eyes flew open at the high-pitched scream and found Malfoy's face screwed up in pain. Malfoy looked down at him with round eyes, then scuttled off, stumbling in his haste to get away. Harry noticed his arms were locked over his chest convulsively, his face stark white, his breathing heavy.

"Malfoy," he croaked. He cleared his throat and sat upright. "What was that?"

"I- I have to go."

Malfoy ran. Harry got to his feet and stared after him. What just happened?

He picked up his wand which had been thrown a considerable distance. He used it to wake Ron and both of them got rid of the bindings. Ron glanced around and smirked: "So, I guess you won huh?"

Harry rubbed his hair and nodded. "Yeah, yeah I beat him." He didn't know what the hell it was that he'd beaten the Slytherin with.

Ron noticed his dazed expression and pulled him along towards the kitchens, saying: "Let's go see them at the kitchens, maybe the house elfs have some butterbeer in store, eh?"

888

Harry was still shaken from his weird fight with Malfoy the next Monday when he pushed open the door of the Room of Requirement for his two-weekly training session.

"So," Snape began without preamble. "You decided it would be a good idea to provoke Mr. Malfoy into a fight."

Snape snarled: "Have you absolutely no brains, Potter?"

Harry winced at the loudness of Snape's voice. A long finger sharply poked his chest.

"Every capability you have shown in that duel," Snape bellowed, "will be reported to the Dark Lord!"

"You really think that Malfoy-"

"Yesss," Snape hissed, sounding disturbingly like a Parselmouth. "If Draco knows, his father knows." He turned away from Harry with a shake of his head. "To waste my time teaching such an imbecilic brat…"

Abruptly all expression left Snape's face and his eyes changed back to unreadable black lakes. His voice took on its customary toneless drawl.

"Today we will be practicing grade three destructible spells."

A large crate was floated to a table that materialised in the middle of the hall. High squeaking sounds drifted from its content. Snape gestured and the flanks fell aside to reveal… a dozen grey squirrels.

Snape brandished his wand "Like this. Perditio Pectus."

Soon Harry realised that not everything could be practiced on one's dueling partner. A brown smoky beam emerged to envelop the unfortunate squirrel, whose squeaking reached a high pitch before it fell over, clearly dead.

The other squirrels were trying to run off the table, but an invisible wall held them back. Harry swallowed. "Is there something else we could use instead of animals, sir? Maybe plants or-"

A brow was raised in irritation. "Do plants have hearts, Potter?" Snape waited a moment before gesturing with a sharp motion for Harry to proceed.

Harry tried pointing his wand but the squirrels kept moving awfully fast. Which one should he choose…?

He heard Snape's impatient sigh next to him. "The gray squirrel is a plague all over England, Potter."

"But that's not-"

Snape's tone hardened. "I couldn't care less about your soft-minded opinion Potter. You're training to grasp the Dark Arts, not to win the local Gobstones Tournament. The spell, now."

With trembling aim Harry incanted the spell at the mass of grey before him. A warm flow of magic seeped through his arm, reminding him vaguely of a dream he'd had. While the sight of the squirrel keening over was worrisome, the effects of the spell were strangely soothing. It left him feeling rather out of his depth.

"Correct." A generous amount of disbelieve suffused Snape's tone. "Once more."

Suddenly practicing the Dark Arts wasn't so exiting anymore.

888

Lucius glanced up at him fearfully before looking down again.

'That is all?' Harry inquired, his tone deceptively light.

"Yes, my Lord," Lucius answered, bowing his head. Harry carded a hand through the blond tresses. He felt along the mark that bound his servant and yanked on it, hard.

Lucius choked off a scream.

His fingers snagged on a hair before they resumed their rhythmic carding. Well. This could prove to be interesting.

His eyes went to the gleaming ring on his desk. Ah, the boy… Hungry anticipation filled his chest and he felt the corners of his mouth widen into a smile.

888

Harry awoke with a gasp. Fuck. That's it, he needed to tell Dumbledore. He felt a burn of betrayal as he glanced at the empty bottle of Dreamless Sleep on the night-stand: this marked the first time that the bluish-grey potion hadn't kept the visions at bay.

Shrugging on his pyjama top he softly made his way down the dormitory stairs and along the seventh floor corridor towards the Headmaster's office. Within minutes he stood before the massive wooden door with one hand poised to knock, having guessed the password for the gargoyle after a few tries (Skiving Snackboxes). He hadn't seen Dumbledore at dinner so technically the Headmaster could be anywhere - he was more gone than not nowadays. Murmurs on the other side of the door answered his question. Lowering his hand he carefully placed an ear against it. The sounds remained illegible, probably because the door had a Muffliato charm on it.

Suddenly a voice spoke loudly against his ear: "Come in Mr. Potter."

He jumped back in surprise. Annoyed with himself he opened the door and briskly stepped into the office. His confidence faltered a bit when he saw who Dumbledore had been talking to: Snape was reclining in a comfortable armchair placed next to the Headmaster's. Two pairs of eyes were now staring him down, one lightly amused and one highly irritated.

Snape hastily shut the thick tome that lay between them.

"Hello Harry," Dumbledore spoke in a genial tone.

"Professor." Harry took the indicated chair in front of the massive desk. "I- uh," he glanced at Snape – "need to talk to you about something. But it can wait," he added, seeing Snape's glare.

"That's alright. What is this about, may I ask?"

Harry hesitated. Dumbledore's gaze turned grim. "Times are dire Harry. Whatever it is you need to say, Professor Snape needs to know as well. Since he is now mentoring you as much as I am" – Snape made a choking noise; Dumbledore continued as if he hadn't heard – "it is of the utmost importance that he is informed of all that is relevant to your health and progress, the same way you do with me."

Like the good soldier I am, Harry thought sourly. Dumbledore's eyes widened. Harry glanced away, face burning. Shit, how could I forget?

"Harry!" Sadness came through in the Headmasters voice. "Never think that. Is that how you believe I think of you?"

Harry studied the gold-and-red carpet at his feet. "No, of course not," he muttered. He felt a constriction in his chest at Dumbledore's wounded tone. He raised his eyes hesitantly. Snape's were flickering between Harry and the Headmaster, his expression blank.

"I'm sorry, I- I know I should share anything that may be important, especially after…" He shook himself. "Anyway, that's why I came to see you." He was relieved to see Dumbledore's composure loosen again.

He took a breath, letting it out slowly. "I had a vision-"

At the sound of Snape's fist slamming against the desk Harry jumped an inch from his chair.

"This is what I had warned you about," the Potions Master hissed, leaning forward over the large desk. "What I have been trying to impress on your dim-witted excuse for a brain Potter, to learn to close. Your. Mind! But no, Occlumency wasn't interesting enough for the-"

"Severus," Dumbledore spoke softly. At that Snape threw himself back in his chair, looking disgusted. Dumbledore waited a moment as if to see if Snape was going to behave, then nodded at Harry to go on.

"I had a vision about Vol-" – Snape hissed in warning – "You-Know-Who. He was torturing Dolohov because he had botched his assignment. I think he was supposed to infiltrate Gringotts, but it didn't go well. Yesterday I had another vision-"

Snape threw up his hands in frustration. "Well don't mind us Potter, please feel free to share any news on the Dark Lord's activities when you feel like doing so," he sneered. He was gnashing his teeth. Somehow Harry couldn't get rid of the feeling that his diligence in their training sessions had gotten him a droplet of respect from the man this year - and that droplet had now evaporated. Dumbledore was regarding Harry with a frown.

"He was talking to Lucius Malfoy," he continued, choosing to address the old desk. "He asked if that was all the information Malfoy had. Then I saw a ring lying on his desk."

Dumbledore abruptly stood and walked towards a drawer situated against the wall of his office. With a wand gesture he opened it and stared at its content. Snape had come to stand next to the Headmaster and contemplated the content of the drawer as well. Harry saw the tips of blackened fingers sticking out of Dumbledore's radiant blue robes.

"Is it the Gaunt ring?"

Both wizards turned towards him. Dumbledore's face had whitened. "Yes."

Harry felt sweat break out over his hands. "I thought you had it, sir?"

"I did. Apparently not any more."

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