To Ride the Carousel Again

Chapter 28

All legal copyrights of recognizable characters belong to J. K. Rowling

(And some others who have lots of highly paid solicitors on staff)
I feel a need for some John Williams music
for this chapter.

Approx. 6,300 words

"Yes Hermione, I have been neglecting you."

/*

It was the night before Halloween and Harry was on the second floor of the castle after curfew staring at the wall. Tomorrow would be his second step in his plan to lure Lucius Malfoy to Hogwarts so he could free Dobby.

He pulled out his ink on paper list, squinting to see it in the faint flickering torchlight.

Second-floor hall near Moaning Mrytle's bathroom. Check.

Make sure no portraits can see that piece of wall. Check.

Red paint infused with house elf magic and a potion Harry had discovered in a book from the Come-and-Go room, in a bucket. Check

(He thought maybe this was how Tom/Ginny had done this the first time. Oh, reminder. He would have to remember to tell Hermione how to summon any book in the Hogwarts library to the room.)

Paintbrush. Check.

Cleaning rags to be Vanished if needed. Check.

Step stool to make it seem the perpetrator was taller than him. Hmm, ten-minute conjuration period and create it away from here.

(Reminder to self: Get with Pomfrey for more growth and body repair potions. He was almost out of his Healer Tonks supply.)

"Merlin, this is a lot of work merely to get Dobby free of the Malfoy's. But I do have to admit finding out some of the stuff a bonded house elf can do is really neat."

Harry was tired. And he knew he was rushing which could make him careless. The worry that an after-curfew patroller could interrupt and discover him, was driving him to hurry.

Earlier he had met Dobby at the ward line in the secret tunnel that connected the castle with Honeyduke's. There he picked up the needed supplies from the elf and walked them up to the castle and to here across from the original warning wall.

Dobby was getting anxious. He had needed much reassurance that the bad book Master had given to Girl Wheezy was still in Harry's possession.

He came within an inch of disaster when levitating the paint bucket up to the Sticking Charm on the wall, he almost fumbled the fine work of getting it to stick to the wall while levitating it. The rag-wrapped paintbrush was easier to float. A Notice-Me-Not-Charm and he was done.

Now all he needed was a break and not have Junglybore check the wall across from the wall he planned to paint. He needed the weak spells to disappear into the background magic 'noise' of the castle and leave no clues to challenge the mystery of the writing on the wall.

He found he had been bit hazy on how he had ended up going to Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington's Death Day party the first time, but fate seemed to decide he needed an alibi. As before, he had come across Nearly-Headless Nick muttering about his rejection for joining the Headless Hunt after a particular wet and muddy quidditch practice.

Remembrance flooded through him. He watched and carefully prodded the conversation into getting a quick invitation to the Death Day feast. He needed to hurry as his memory was including getting caught by Filch dripping muddy water all over the floor, and the incensed caretaker hauling him to his office for a punishment that Nick had to save him from.

He was not going to the Samhain feast and would be missed. Yet he needed to be alone for almost ten minutes to paint the dread words on the wall, clean up and escape.

He could not afford to leave any magical trace on that wall. He had tried to get Dobby to do it and he told Harry that the castle house elves would know if he entered the halls and trace his elf magic even if wizards could not.

Also, Harry was afraid to try to hide any magical help he needed because he figured Dumbledore could detect it and if he said a student had done the wall writing as a prank, it would lose a lot of its creepy mystery.

He remembered the last time how Dumbledore had cast a multitude of detection spells at the wall. Since he had no possible way to perform magic that would petrify Filch's cat without Investigative Dumbledore detecting it, he was going to have to let the message stand on its own also. Harry was positive the old man would suss out any spells used on Mrs. Norris to leave her hanging as had originally happened.

It was not until Harry had laid in bed for a few minutes that it occurred to him that if he didn't need the water-reflected gaze of the real basilisk as to why everyone was petrified, why paint the wall in the heavily traveled second-floor corridor? Maybe some other place, a little more secluded, could have worked.

Harry didn't have to fake being tired and ill-tempered the next day. The castle was festively decorated with glowing pumpkins and enchanted bats. The smell of delicious baked goods was wafting through the air, and the students were cheerful because it was a special day.

Hermione had approached Harry earlier with trepidation. She understood intellectually why Halloween depressed her friend. It was the anniversary of his parent's death, the beginning of what the girl was positive was a very poor childhood with his aunt and uncle.

Fourteen-fifteen-year-old Harry answered bitterly. "It's just like last year. They're all happy and giddy because of what today means. To the Mundaneborn, it's a bit of familiarity. Even if they can't go out in a costume to collect candy, it helps them reconnect with back home. You know, remembering how it was before their being sent off to a magic castle where they would not see their parents for four months."

Hermione's eyes widened at his words. Dressing up in costume and going from house to house in the neighborhood collecting candy and other snacks ran through her mind. Of course, having two dentists as parents meant very little candy made it from her collecting bucket to her mouth.

He thought for a moment. "I mean learning magic is totally cool, but being away from home and having to put up with the Malfoy-types has them wanting for some normalcy."

She suddenly had a mundaneborn epiphany as she agreed wholeheartedly with his analysis.

He continued, "Most of the magical raised are celebrating the defeat of Voldemort, and frankly it's hard to be angry at them as it is the most defining moment of their lives. In fact, a few will be allowed to go home as their parents want them there for some Samhain rituals."

"Then there is the very small minority of me. I cannot stop from remembering that this is the anniversary of my parents being killed by that evil, evil thing!"

Hermione tried to keep the shock off her face at Harry's bitter tone.

"That thing took away my parents and any type of normal childhood from me. And for my parents, and Sirius and Lupin, I will remove that piece of shitte stain from the earth. The hundreds he killed, and the thousands he caused to be killed, will find him on the Other Side and have their revenge!"

Hermione had no idea what to do, so she defaulted to her usual. She wrapped him in a strong hug. Why does Harry believe he has to be the one to kill He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? Didn't he do that last year again?" she thought.

After a few moments, he started reveling in the contact, in being cherished by someone, anyone. And it being his best friend was a nice bonus.

He had the sudden realization that the last few weeks of keeping to himself and shutting the others out because he was terrified of accidental betrayal to Dumbledore or Snape, had made him lonely. He had companionship, but he had shut off the advancing friendships the others had offered.

With a sigh of regret, he started the release of his Hermione Hug. "Now don't worry. As soon as the Sir Nicholas' Death Day Celebration is over, I'll come to the Great Hall for the end of the feast."

"Harry, are you sure I can't come with you? I'm sure I'll find it terribly interesting. I mean who has ever thought of ghosts celebrating the day of their death?"

"Sir Nicholas explained to me that the castle ghosts don't like 'the living' at their gatherings. Makes them feel as though they are being studied, or examined, or pitied, or something. Anyway, He told me the only reason I'm invited is to hopefully use my being a celebrity to try and convince the Headless Hunt to allow him membership. They keep denying him being a member because of that little strip of sinew that keeps his head connected."

Seeing her distress at leaving him alone for a while, he reiterated his promise to see her right after the feast ended.

"As long as you stay right there. After all, it's Halloween. Another troll might be let into the castle." And with a last quick hug, he was gone.

The Death Day gathering went as he mostly remembered. The dungeon was cold, the rancid, rotten food smelled awful, the ghosts mostly ignored him, and despite his (this time around) much more passionate arguments for Sir Nicholas' inclusion in the Headless Hunt, the Gryffindor ghost was once again denied.

With some hasty good-bye's to the ghosts he knew, he casually, but quickly made his way to the second-floor corridor, carrying his hastily conjured stepladder the last fifty yards.

Hurriedly placing the ladder by where he had hidden his paint bucket, brush, and rags, he gathered them along the opposite wall. Another short trip had the ladder in place. Grabbing the bucket of paint and the brush he started;

THE CHAMBER OF

ENEMIES OF THE

He then had to quickly reposition the stepladder. Falling off and splattering paint everywhere would be disastrous.

SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED

HEIR, BEWARE!

"The heck with drippy letters. I've got to get out of here!" he thought.

The still clean rags were stuffed in a pocket, the paintbrush thrown into the half-empty bucket and grabbed in one hand, the stepladder in another, and Harry fast walked away from the direction he remembered the crowd coming from the last time.

At least fifty yards away from the wall message, Harry quickly Vanished the bucket and brush, Finite'd the stepladder, and was reaching for the rags when he heard the approaching roar of noise coming from down the hall.

A fast Clothes Freshening Charm and a Breath Freshening Charm, and he was quickly dragging his invisibility cloak from his robe pocket as he sprinted back up the hall past his new artwork, and plastered himself into a niche just as the first of the wave of students leaving the feast passed him.

Most of the crowd had passed his hiding place before he saw the mass of bushy brown curls of his best friend slowing down to stare at the mass of youngsters piling up in the corridor where the red writing was on the wall. Easing his cloak, he cut across to her, avoiding being run into by the pack trailers who could not see him.

He cut in front of his now stationary friend using her as a screen against being seen by others. He probably did not need to be so careful as everyone's attention was on the painted words on the wall.

He saw Hermione twitch with startlement at his sudden appearance.

And as if on cue, the hating, vicious, gloating voice of Malfoy cut across the rising babble of the crowd.

"You'll be next, mudbloods and blood traitors! The Dark Lord will return to cleanse your filth from these halls!"

And just as in the past, not one of the teachers working their way through the crowd reprimanded the poisonous little ferret for his words.

Harry had painted the words high enough that he and Hermione could read them over everyone's heads. The gasp from his friend shot a spasm of guilt through Harry. He had not thought about remembering how the original message had affected her.

From his right side came a familiar, though very quiet voice. "Nice work, Harry Potter. Creepy, but not scary."

Harry whipped his head around and ended looking down into the large silver-blue eyes of Luna.

"Uh, wha?" was Harry's panicked response. "Merlin! How the hell did she know it was me?"

"Oh, nothing Harry. I was just remarking on the interesting writing on the wall. Were you waiting outside the doors for us as the feast ended? Good thing you caught up with us. I think Hermione is going to need a hug," she finished, smiling guilelessly at him.

Harry was now suffering from mental whiplash as the confusing girl switched topics effortlessly in midstream.

His brain finally caught up to the fact that his little blonde friend seemed to know he was the guilty sign painter, but wasn't going to dob him to the teachers, She had also given him an excuse why Hermione had not seen him before he popped into view in front of her.

He casually grabbed Hermione's hand and in his best acting voice said, "What's all the excitement with the writing on the wall?"

"I don't kno . . ."

Her quiet reply was cut off by the scream of his most despised professor, "POTTER!"

"Where are you, Potter? I know you weren't at the feast. This is something you did!" came the malice-filled bellow of the potions professor. "Come here, Potter!"

Harry was about to step forward when he felt a hand dive into his right robe pocket. The hand quickly emerged with a fistful of rags and his invisibility cloak that disappeared into her robe. It was done so smoothly that none of the people around for him saw the mass pass into a pocket of Luna's robes.

Having worked his way through the crowd to the front where all the professors were massed, Harry placed all his attention on Professor McGonagall. "You wanted to see me, Professor?" he said quietly.

As the old woman was opening her mouth, Snape started his rant.

"I know you did this, Potter! You're an arrogant, attention-seeking prankster just like your arrogant fool of a father! I'll have you expelled for this! Turn out your pockets! That will show your guilt!"

Harry paid him no attention and kept his eyes on the Deputy Headmistress. "Professor?"

This act infuriated the apparently unhinged-sounding Snape. Reaching out, he had barely touched Harry's right shoulder with the intention of wrenching him around to face him.

Time seemed to slow down for Harry. His thoughts flew to just before school when he had asked Lupin if he could show him some muggle ways of fighting. That he seemed to lose his wand every other time he was in a fight, had been bothering him for weeks despite his new, fancy wand holster. He remembered that part of his Facilitator's CV was having been a bodyguard in the mundane world on occasion.

For hours over the next couple of days, they had practiced ways to get out of having wands thrust into his back, the back of his neck, or jabbed up under his chin. Another had been someone grabbing a shoulder to spin him around to punch his face in.

Harry snapped into the spin, raising his arm and smashing it into Snape's left forearm. That ripped the Greasy Bat's hand off his shoulder. His rising left hand slapped the moving wand away from being pointed at him. Surprisingly, Snivillous' wand went flying, yet the first reflex of the ex-Death Eater was to grab the forearm in pain, before looking to see where his wand had gone.

Except for some startled gasps, silence reigned in the corridor.

An instantly raging Harry filled the silence. "I could have you thrown in Azkaban for your cowardly way of attacking the Lord of a Most Ancient and Most Noble House from behind," he practically hissed.

"What was your plan? Using your Legilimency on me at short range?"

The gasps from many gathered students told him they at least were horrified by Harry's charge, if true.

"Maybe with the Headmaster covering for you might have gotten away with reading my mind, but manhandling me? In front of all these witnesses? I would say your days of being a professor in this school are rapidly coming to an end."

Turning to the side he fixed Albus with his glare.

"Harry m' boy . . ." the old wizard began.

"Tell me, Headmaster," Harry interrupted, "do you believe your sets of Confundus runes around the common rooms and the main entrance doors used to convince students that anything that happens within these walls is not important enough to write home about or talk about when we go home for holidays, will be adequate this year?"

Again, gasps and cries of denial rippled through the assembled crowd.

Harry knew the last was a shot in the dark, but for months his thoughts had sometimes turned to why during four years, no one on the outside ever seemed to be interested in the very odd happenings that often occurred inside Hogwarts.

As far as Harry knew, a very focused and determined Daphne Greengrass had been the first to tell her parents that some very strange happenings had occurred at Hogwarts last year.

He and older Hermione decided this . . forgetting . . was unusual since their particular year had the heirs and the offspring of many powerful wizarding families. Families that would be intensely interested in dangerous conditions at the remote boarding school their children attended.

Powerful, influential families. Bones, Longbottom, Greengrass, Smith, Flint, and even Malfoy would have raked Dumbasadoor over the coals for endangering their heirs with that stupid obstacle course last year, not to mention a spirit-possessed teacher. This year, the old man had gotten lucky no PureBloods had stumbled across the basilisk when Ginny was leading it through the halls.

Hermione had referred to it as the Why Only Harry Rule. She hypothesized after the second task last, er, fourth year, that Harry and she were the only students who seemed to be able to connect the dots that there was a latest problem that the school was throwing at them.

And sets of always-powered runes had seemed to her to be a way to create such a disinterest.

Harry had to hold in a smirk as he briefly contemplated that at the least, the headmaster was going to have to scramble to try to remove five or six sets of something before the now thoroughly interested older students started investigating.

Harry reached up to fiddle with his glasses before looking at the headmaster. At that moment a very familiar voice urgently yelped, "Look out!"

Harry was spinning to avoid anything when a white-ish spell connected Professor McGonagall's wand with the wand pointing Snape. Harry could only guess that the Greasy Git had silently summoned his wand back and McGonagall had seen something she didn't like.

The grim-faced transfiguration professor caught Snapes' wand out of the air. His landing on several students saved Snape from a hard landing on the floor.

"Silent casting," thought Harry. "He was so focused on cursing me in the back, he never saw her coming."

McGonagall placed Snape's wand in a robe pocket and tapped it with her wand before turning her attention back to the Boy-Who-Was-Almost-Cursed.

"Harry, m' boy," commented Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling wildly. "Perhaps if you empty your pockets it will put to rest any accusations that you are responsible for this vandalism."

Unwilling to cave quickly Harry appealed to his Head of House. "Professor McGonagall, do I have to? There's no evidence I did any of this. All there is the ravings of an unbalanced mind." And swiveling his head back to the headmaster, he muttered just loud enough for others to hear, "I could be referring to either one."

"Harry, I must insist, a professor has made a serious charge against you," the sorrowful-faced, yet still twinkling Headmaster stated.

Harry swung back to his Head of House. "I'm sorry, Lord Potter," she said. "He is the headmaster. Even when he is wrong," she finished with a withering glare at the eye-watering robed man.

Harry stood unmoving for a moment. Suddenly he reached into every pocket known to be in a standard Hogwarts robe. Folded parchment pieces, quills, inkpot, pencil stubs, handkerchiefs, and a small Gringotts money bag from various pockets were passed to Professor McGonagall.

"That's all, Professor," he said.

She raised her wand and muttered something. Nothing happened, so Harry had no idea what the spell was.

"Now that the headmaster and his lackey are done slandering my name and reputation, may I have my things back?" he inquired. That statement elicited more shocked gasps from the crowd.

Stuffing everything back into his pockets, he was surprised to find Hermione and Luna next to him somehow having wormed their way up to the front of the mob.

"Deputy Headmistress McGonagall, surely now you will agree that I can no longer stay in this person's class. I assume my request will be ready soon?" Harry said looking her straight in the eye.

The woman seemed to deflate a bit before straightening her spine. "It shall be done soon, Lord Potter.

With an incline of his head, he possessed the arms of the two girls next to him and performed his Lordship-is-unconcerned stroll towards his dorm. The crowd parted in front of them and in a few minutes they entered the Gryffindor common room.

Once there the three were joined by Neville seeking knowledge and almost all of the First-Years who gathered around, frightened by they knew not what and were looking for both safety and some knowledge from their Big Brothers and Big Sister.

Neville did not push the three and after the upset Harry had calmed down he asked what the others had seen happen. After that had gone on, Lord Potter asked Heir Longbottom if he had enough of a case against the Dungeon Bat to get the Wizengamot to throw him into Azkaban.

"Doubtful, Lord Potter. He may have touched you, but as he didn't have a chance to manhandle you, he could claim your back was turned and he wanted your attention. I'm also sure the headmaster would back that explanation to the hilt."

It was later in the common room when one of the Firsties asked what was the Chamber of Secrets. Everyone immediately looked at Hermione.

"What? You act like I'm some type of walking encyclopedia or something," she said a bit crossly.

Harry turned his head and smirked at her. "But you are, Hermione."

"Prat," she commented while swatting his shoulder. "All I know is the little bit mentioned in Hogwarts, A History. It's supposed to be this hidden chamber somewhere in the castle that is supposed to have Slytherin's Monster in it. And the monster will arise someday and kill all the non-PureBloods in the castle."

"That's rather gruesome," commented Luna. "Have people looked for it?"

"Yes, but it has never been found and a lot of people now claim it is just a myth."

/*

The castle was a-buzz all Sunday. By Monday, any book that had any reference to the Chamber of Secrets had been checked out of the library. After three days of having to listen to Hermione complain with increasing threats of how hard she was going to curse the 'Claws who had stripped the bookshelves clean.

The virtual dearth of information in the Hogwarts books had her storming about, and in a Ron-type temper for days.

It was so bad she interrupted Binns the Ghost during History of Magic class and with a hereto hidden cunning, actually got him to talk about how Salazar Slytherin had become fed up with the muggle-loving ways of the other founders and had created a secret chamber. That chamber was said to contain a monster that would cleanse the school if it was threatened by non-PureBloods.

The story spread like Fyendfyre through the school and had most of the school on edge. Many Slytherins were strutting around espousing their PureBlood dogma anytime they thought anyone could hear them.

With the feeling there was a vague threat hanging over the school, many students were starting to realize that they were not learning anything from their DADA professor, and suddenly, they were feeling nervous that they were not learning how to protect themselves from some of the dangers of the magical world.

More and more students, particularly the OWL and NEWT years were petitioning their Heads of House to allow them to form DADA study groups. The teachers kept coming back with refusals because the headmaster insisted there was nothing wrong with the DADA classes.

/*

It had been two weeks of being busy for Harry. After all, he was one of only two people in the castle not worried by the message painted on the wall. He had told his bushy-haired friend she could stop researching the Why of last year. He hinted strongly that she now knew the reason why they had ended up in their last dangerous adventure. Then he introduced Hermione to the joys of the Room being able to get her a copy of any book she wanted from the Hogwarts library. Including the ones checked out of the library by the 'Claws. Yeah, it was bribery, but he didn't care.

Also, Harry was spending time studying and practicing Occlumency with her. She was in Hermione Happy Land again.

He also upon spending some time with his remembrances of the future, and with that information, decided his best friend was becoming deficient in keeping up her DADA work. After all, she had shown that she was quite proficient at dueling as a second-year at his manor a few months ago. It was time to introduce her to the dueling dummies of the Room.

He smirked to himself when he remembered her having had a penchant for wanting to "Blow something up" last summer.

Sure, Lockhart was a fraud. Harry knew it. Hermione was half convinced he was but, still made some weak excuses for him. Looking at the other male professor's ages and/or temperaments, he could see why many girls were using him as a ray of sunshine in the now gloomy world of Hogwarts headed into winter.

Suddenly, after one too many times having Harry acting scenes from his books, she started spending library time with Susan Bones and Hanna Abbott from Hufflepuff, Lisa Turpin and Padma Patil of Ravenclaw. Harry also realized that he and Hermione were spending study time in the library near Greengrass and Davis. Not interacting with them but near them. Harry would sometimes grin as he realized that Hermione was out for Lockhart's blood. Again.

An author who lied in his books was the lowest form of scum to her, and she was enlisting allies in her quest to drag him down.

It had been a week since Assistant Headmistress McGonagall had found him a tutor for potions. Tomorrow he would be free from The Snivellous effecting his grades. He had played his Lord card weeks ago, and Hogwarts was required by its charter, if requested, to provide, at additional cost, tutoring for those that had taken up their Head of House ring.

The downside was that suddenly his Revelio spell before meals had virtually lit up the Gryffindor table for a couple of days. Every time he went to save a goblet or plate for evidence, it vanished. Even a napkin he had swiped across a plate disappeared.

The light show had led to secret meetings in abandoned classrooms or dead-end corridors, all having no magical portraits with Neville, Susan, Greengrass and Davis. Somehow, to Harry's consternation, Luna had somehow tagged along to most of these.

Susan was raging that there was a potioning war going on and the staff was ignoring it or claiming it was pranking by the Weasley twins that Harry was smart enough to dodge. That sounded reasonable, except the twins had sworn they were not responsible for any potioning, pranks or otherwise when Harry had stuck his ring under their noses and demanded answers.

"Especially not after you saved Ronniekin's from his poisoning," they had said in unison after their denials. Harry believed them and did not press the issue.

All five of the PureBloods had insisted Harry get checked by Madame Pomfrey. Harry demurred as his memories always had Dumbledore seeming to know everything that went on in the matron's bailiwick.

The last two days at breakfast, his Lord's ring had vibrated or heated up, once even making his goblets' juice glow. Enough was enough. Taking Hermione, he visited Madame Pomfrey in the infirmary.

"Lord Potter, Miss Granger, what can I do for you today?"

Harry looked her over closely. "Madame Pomfrey, both of us need a complete obliviation, potion, compulsion, charms and curses scan. I assume you know some of the protections the Potter ring has upon it?"

At the healer's curt nod, he continued, "It has been giving off alarm signals for two days now. It made the juice in my goblet glow even though my Scarpian's Revelio (1) spell had not shown anything to be wrong. And a shield has flared around me twice in the halls. "

"Also, if you find anything, who would you report your findings to?"

"The headmaster, of course," was the reply.

Harry pondered for a moment. "That would be a No, Madame Pomfrey. Are you telling me that you would break patient confidentiality rules to tell the headmaster?"

"But he is Loco Parentus for most of the students. He has to be told."

"However, he is not my magical guardian, my muggle guardian, or a family member. And he is not for Miss Granger either," he lied.

"And that won't be a lie as I am going to fix it as fast as possible," he thought.

"I'm beginning to believe that there is an alchemic component to these potions. I will get a copy of my results, Miss Granger will get a copy of her results, and a further copy will go to the DMLE or St. Mungo's depending on what you find. There will be no copies going to the headmaster."

Harry made sure his House ring was visible. "Understood?"

Harry hated bullying the Matron, but giving no results to Dumbledore would maybe buy enough time for Harry to gain some allies in his fight. And as far as he was concerned the fight was getting dirtier every day.

Hermione looked at him with worship in her eyes. She liked dynamic, in-charge Harry when he let that side of him off the leash. "And when did Harry learn anything about alchemy?"

Stretching out on a pair of the infirmary beds, it took almost twenty minutes of wand waving, spell muttering, and dicta-quill scratching before she handed over a pair of scrolls to Harry and Hermione.

Harry was studying his when he heard Hermione gasp. He looked over at her scroll and had trouble reading the now bunched, crumpled parchment. He pulled it gently out of her hands as she buried her face into his shoulder.

It only took a moment to read the black ink on the vanilla-coloured parchment. She had been given a Curiosity Suppression Charm, a Wit Dulling, and an old, faded, Loyalty potion.

Harry instantly understood that anything that suppressed the mind of Hermione Granger would horrify her. It was one of her basic tenets in life that her brain was the only thing that separated her from being one of those giggly, hormonal-raddled girls who thought of nothing but boys.

And later, as the bigotry of the magical world became glaringly evident, she had determined that the best thing she could put her prodigious brain power to work on was blowing the barriers placed on the muggleborn into flinders.

To have her mind perverted by the same Merlin-Be-Damned curses that Harry had been subjected to would have her angry, scared, confused, and in about one minute, raging at whomever had done this.

So, for the nonce, Harry just held her and waited for the storm to break.

The school was in a gossip uproar. Hermione had not been quiet, or reticent about what had happened in the infirmary after Harry's Great Hall light show. Now everyone who could learn the testing spells was openly using them at meals, and the younger years were making a point of sitting near friendly upper years who would use the spell on their food and drink.

Dumbledore was still insisting that it was all a giant prank. A desperate Fred and George, tired of being hexed in the halls, had actually given a public oath in the Great Hall crafted by Professor McGonagall that they were not the ones to have potioned anyone's drink from just before Harry's discovery to when they gave the oath.

Several staff members going to St. Mungo's for testing were done very quietly.

Harry figured with Dumbledore working hard on a cover-up, most people would forget about it in another week, especially with the Gryffindor versus Slytherin quidditch match next week. The question was, had he been able to remove the runes from where Harry thought they might be?

The match went off as Harry mostly remembered. The Slytherin's on their new, fast Nimbus 2001 brooms began by scoring first and then kept pouring in the goals.

The Slytherin team had a hundred-point lead when Oliver had seen enough to understand Slytherin's 2001 brooms were not as maneuverable as the Lion's brooms. A change in tactics to using finesse, some stern words to Fred and George, and the Flying Foxes of Gryffindor started racking up the goals. Fred and George upped their Beater's game and without Dobby's magical interference with the bludgers, the score began to tighten.

Gryffindor was only behind by forty points when Harry finally found his opportunity. He had spotted the snitch near the base of the Slytherin goalposts. The problem was Malfoy was closer and had a faster broom. Time for some of that Slytherin cunning the sorting hat claimed he had.

He made a production of looking startled, then nosed his broom over in a near-vertical dive. Malfoy followed in hot pursuit assuming Potter had seen the snitch.

Harry twisted down, cape flaring, shaping his course to deny the gaining Malfoy a glimpse of the winged, golden ball.

A course twitch and Malfoy could see Potter take his hand off his broom as though preparing to grab the gold orb when suddenly he grabbed his broomstick with both hands and straining every muscle, pulled upwards.

To his horror, Malfoy was suddenly brutally aware of his position in a screaming dive, too close to the ground. Imitating Potter he yanked up with all his strength. He was too late.

Going faster than Potter, on a less maneuverable broom, his shaft struck the ground at a shallow angle, burying the nose in the turf and breaking the broomstick into pieces. The screaming Malfoy was catapulted off the broken shaft to tumble at high speed along the grass.

He was fortunate that the pain from numerous broken bones and stabbings from sharp splinters of broken broomstick had him unconscious before his tumbling skid came to a halt.

Meanwhile, Harry used the speed from his dive to zip over to the Slytherin goals, and while everyone's attention was on Malfoy's very painful-looking broom dismount, to catch the snitch after a mere ten-second chase. Even the snitch seemed to want to end the match after Malfoy's ploughing.

The Gryffindor victory party was epic until McGonagall finally shut it down around two A.M.

Harry spent the next week with a minimum of trouble from both Dumbledore and Snape and was content that some normal had returned to the school.

Unfortunately for Harry and Professor Dumbledore, it was at the end of that week when a Hufflepuff came staggering into the Great Hall like the Hounds of Hell were after him. It took a minute for the gasping, about to pass out, First-Year to make sense. All he would say was that the "Monsters" were after him and they had killed his friends in the dungeons.

The dinner crowd immediately began screaming, then jumped up, and started running for the doors in panic.

A/N:

One - Scarpian's Revelio spell. I've seen it used in several stories, yet can find no use and/or results in any websites or my HP Spellbook.

Nothing really to say. Self-explanatory chapter. The pressure on our savior is growing. And it's showing.
I hope to squeeze out another chapter before we start the SnoBird trek south around Samhain.