Harry Potter and the Darkest Hour by Stormy
Summary: Harry is entering his 6th year at Hogwarts. NEWT classes, Quidditch and a new DADA teacher all add up to a seemingly normal year. But what is Voldemort up to now? Where are his Death Eaters? Tortures and killings have started, but how much of it is all just a decoy in the great scheme of things? This time, Harry must leave the comfort of his friends and face his darkest fear.

Featured story April, May and June 2006 and nominated for the Quill Awards!

The final chapter is now up! The sequel has been submitted! Please R/R!

Categories: Dark/Angsty Fics Characters: None
Warnings: None
Challenges:
Series: None
Chapters: 20 Completed: Yes Word count: 56770 Read: 90235 Published: 04/05/05 Updated: 06/28/05

1. Floo Powder by Stormy

2. Trials and Suffering by Stormy

3. The Remittomissum Charm by Stormy

4. The Clamcelo by Stormy

5. Going Home by Stormy

6. Invisibility by Stormy

7. Not a Threat, But a Promise by Stormy

8. Unwanted Power by Stormy

9. First Game by Stormy

10. The Three Attacks by Stormy

11. Christmas by Stormy

12. The Power of Suggestion by Stormy

13. Unexpected Departure by Stormy

14. Accusations by Stormy

15. A Difficult Decision by Stormy

16. Hogsmeade by Stormy

17. A Second Departure by Stormy

18. The Darkest Hour by Stormy

19. Truth, Lies and Curses by Stormy

20. The End of the Beginning by Stormy

Floo Powder by Stormy
A sickle moon was visible for a few seconds before it was obscured by dense, floating clouds. It’s eerie light falling over tidied gardens, ordered roads and small houses. Occasionally it filtered between a gap in the curtains, partially illuminating a section of the room inside. One of these beams of light fell across a bed at Number Four, Privet Drive and for a few seconds, a 16 year old with untidy black hair could be seen, restlessly twisting in his bed covers.


“No! Sirius! Don’t come… It’s a trick!”

“I’m coming Harry; I won’t let you face the Death Eaters alone. I promised I would protect you no matter what…”

“Please! Don’t…”

It was too late. An intense beam of light caught Sirius square in the chest and he fell backwards, a look of intense fear crossing his face. “Harry! How could you do this to me?!”

“NOOOOOOOOOOO! I didn’t mean to…It was an accident!”

Sirius’ voice echoed from the veil; “Help me, Harry.”

“How?” screamed Harry.



Harry felt as though someone was restraining him; ruthlessly twisting his arms behind his back. He struggled and hit the floor with a crash. Flat on his back, he lay gasping for air, dripping in sweat; although that wasn’t the only reason his face was wet.

Every night since that fateful evening in the Department of Mysteries, Harry had endlessly visualised his godfather’s death over and over again. He wasn’t sure how many times he’d had that dream; each one ending the same as before. Never mind, thought Harry, the pain will ease soon. Who are you kidding? asked another voice in his head. If it weren’t for you Sirius would still be here…

Harry sighed. Yes, Sirius would be here if it weren’t for him. So would Cedric Diggory, Professor Quirrell, his parents. Knowing he wouldn’t sleep again that night, he got up and made his way to his desk; or rather, Dudley’s old desk that he’d no longer wanted after he wanted blue draws instead of red ones.

Drawing back the curtains, he looked out on Privet Drive. As he looked out, he noticed an owl flying towards him. Instantly, Harry pulled open the window and the owl, dropping lower, soared in through the window and landed in a bit of a heap on his pillow.

Leaping up, Harry took the letter from the large barn owl. He recognised the handwriting immediately as from his best friend, Hermione Granger.


Dear Harry,

How are things with you? I’m fine, and so are Ron and family. I’m the messenger for you“know“what so here is the message:

Be ready for 10 o’clock. Same way as the World Cup.

See you later!

Love Hermione.


Harry instantly understood the message; the Order of the Phoenix was coming to get him at 10 o’clock by Floo Powder. He couldn’t wait! Grinning, he got dressed and went downstairs for breakfast.

*~*~*~*


“I’m leaving at 10 o’clock today; ok?” Harry asked.

“Whatever,” came the uninterested answer. Typical, Harry thought, trust Uncle Vernon to show his unwavering concern about me. He got a similar reaction off Aunt Petunia. Dudley just squealed and left the room as soon as he saw Harry.

Helping himself to a slice of toast, Harry waited until 10 o’clock with mounting excitement. Only a small part of him held a little bit of trepidation. Did he want to go back to Grimmauld Place so soon? Well, Harry thought, a little guiltily, at least I'll be back with Ron and Hermione...

*~*~*~*


Everything to do with the Orders’ arrival went exactly as planned. Remus Lupin, Alastor Moody and Arthur Weasley were taking Harry, by Floo Powder, to Grimmauld Place. Calling the name of the Order of the Phoenix’s Headquarters, the last thing Harry saw, looking back at the Dursley’s living room was Vernon shielding Aunt Petunia from both the fireplace and the other members of the Order.

Instantly after the living room was whipped out of sight by emerald flames, Harry closed his eyes and ensured his elbows were tucked in by his sides. He had no wish to come out of Grimmauld Place’s fire, after all, with grazed elbows and feeling as if he was about to vomit.

Feeling himself slowing down, Harry put out a hand and stepped out of the fire place. All the Weasley family (except Percy), Nymphadora Tonks and Hermione were all there waiting for him. Looking around, Harry smiled for the first time in weeks; at last he was home, with the closest thing to family he had ever known.

“Hiya Harry!” Hermione and Ron said together, there faces splitting into wide grins,

Just as Harry opened his mouth to say hello his scar exploded in pain. It was as if someone was repeatedly slashing his forehead with a razor blade, over and over again. Harry no longer knew where he was; he was vaguely aware of his knees hitting the floor and then a rush of sound and colour before everything went black.

“Harry! Oh god, Harry!”

“Harry mate; wake up! Come on!”

Harry opened his eyes and everything came flooding back. Looking up he saw Hermione, Ron and Tonks leaning over him; Mrs Weasley was behind them. Harry put a hand up to his scar and felt it was warm and covered in a wet, sticky substance. Pulling his hand away; staring at his blood covered fingers, he found his voice at last.

“Dumbledore…” whispered Harry. “Get… Dumbledore… Now!








A/N : I hope you liked this chapter, and sorry about the cliffhanger! The next chapter is "Trials and Suffering" and I've combined two chapters together, so the story can be submitted quicker. Otherwise you'd only get about 800 words a chapter.
Trials and Suffering by Stormy
“…Here at the Wizengamot we have found reason to charge you, Lucius Vares Malfoy, with the crimes of High Treason against the Ministry of Magic, the use of the Unforgivable Curses on victims, unauthorised access to the Ministry of Magic and working with the intent of supplying confidential information to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Do you deny these charges?”

In Courtroom Nine of the Ministry of Magic, Lucius Malfoy sat bound to a high backed chair by iron chains, totally indifferent to the accusations put against him. All he did in way of acknowledgement to these words was to sneer up at Cornelius Fudge, a manic gleam in his eyes.

“I repeat; do you, Lucius Malfoy, deny these charges put against you by the Wizengamot?”

“What does it matter what I say?” came his cold, indifferent reply. “Throw me into Azkaban, I will wait. The Dark Lord has risen again and will come for me!”

Involuntary shudders ran around the watching circle of witches and wizards. Those who were older remembered that Malfoy’s words were near on identical to those Bellatrix Lestrange had said nearly fifteen years earlier as she was dragged away by Dementors.

“Can’t you think of anything original to say Lucius?” a second voice called. “Or are you now so consumed by Lord Voldemort that you can no longer think for yourself?”

“What would you know about anything, Dumbledore? You could have been a great wizard if you had joined forces with the Dark Lord, rather than fought against him in the pointless protection of mudbloods and muggle-lovers! Fought against him and lost! The Dark Lord is unassailable; unbeatable!”

Dumbledore smiled slightly and looked down at Lucius, his light blue eyes piercing. “I don’t remember living for thirteen years as a formless, evil wraith, hiding away deep in an Albanian forest though. Are wizards only great if they lose all their power and run away from the world?”

Lucius spat at the floor.

“Right, well…” Fudges uncertain voice broke in. “I now ask the jury to raise their hands if they feel these crimes warrant a life sentence in Azkaban. Crimes which include…”

Albus Dumbledore felt the small, clear cut crystal in his pocket grow hot; its throbbing heat travelling through his robes onto his skin. Discreetly, so as not to arouse the suspicions of the other wizards, he reached down and held it in his palm.

“Dumbledore?” the sound of Tonks’ voice echoed through his head. “Dumbledore!”

“Yes?” he whispered back.

“Dumbledore, it’s Harry.”

“What?! What’s happened? Is he all right?” his voice sharp and urgent.

“Yes. I mean no. He was fine. Alastor, Arthur and Remus got him easily enough from the Dursleys and then, when he reached Grimmauld Place, he sort of collapsed. He put his hand up to his head and when he pulled it away his scar was bleeding. He passed out completely for a few seconds, came back to us, asked to see you ‘Now!’ as he put it, and passed out again. Molly’s with him now.”

“Is he still unconscious?”

“Yes. He’s screaming too.” Tonks sounded distinctly unnerved.

“Tell him I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

With that, Dumbledore stood up. Every wizard in the courtroom looked up at him and even Fudge stopped talking, mid sentence, about the crimes Lucius had committed.

“I must leave,” Dumbledore said calmly. “For the sake of the jury, my vote is guilty. Good day to you all.” and with that, he swept from the dungeon leaving a stunned silence in his wake.

*~*~*~*


A few seconds later, Dumbledore arrived at the atrium. A new desk for the security guard and an empty plinth instead of a golden statue was all that showed of what had happened there barely a month before.

Glancing at the pool for a fraction of a second, a look of deep sadness in his eyes, Dumbledore disapparated.

*~*~*~*


“Harry! Come on Harry, it’s alright, wake up. Everything will be ok…” Molly Weasley’s voice had a soothing, quiet tone to it although there was a faint trace of panic.

“What do we do? Oh, I know! Where did Sirius say the library was here? Didn’t he say there were hundreds of books there? Maybe if I…”

“Hermione, relax. Dumbledore will be here soon so there’s no point stressing and panicking yet.” Bill soothed.

“Oh, but…”

“Shut it Hermione,” came Ron’s cutting answer.

“Oi! Cool it guys. It’s Harry we’ve got to worry about at the moment, not you,” injected Charlie. “Tonks should be contacting Dumbledore now…”

“Dumbledore’s coming,” gasped Tonks as she ran into the room. “I forgot, he was in a Wizengamot trial so he could be a little while; depending on whether he can get away from Fudge or not. Damn!” she cried as she fell over a chair. “He sounded worried when I spoke to him and he said to tell Harry he’s on his way.”

“He’ll be here soon,” growled Moody who had just arrived at Headquarters with Lupin and Arthur. “He’ll get here as soon as he can; especially because it’s to do with Potter…”

At that moment Harry screamed again, a high pitched, terrified, pleading scream. Everyone in the room jumped and stared at Harry, fear in their faces.

“What the hell is wrong with him?” shouted Tonks.

“That’s something I’d like to know as well,” answered a quiet voice.

Dumbledore had arrived at Headquarters.

*~*~*~*


“Harry Potter,” whispered a cold, unfeeling voice. “Harry Potter. We meet again at last.”

Harry panicked. It wasn’t the first time he’d been possessed by Voldemort but it certainly wasn’t something he wanted to happen again. Also, it was the first time it had happened when Voldemort was nowhere near him. He couldn’t bare the thought of Hermione and the Weasleys finding out Voldemort had gained control of him again…

As Harry thought of his friends, Voldemort’s iron grip over him lessened. In those precious seconds, he called out to those near him, pleading, praying, for Dumbledore.

“So then Harry,” Voldemort continued, dragging Harry back, “what about the little matter of the Prophecy? I seem to recall the fact you destroyed it that night in the Department of Mysteries. Well, destroyed my Prophecy along with your Godfather.”

“I’d never tell you the Prophecy,” countered Harry, shuddering at Voldemort’s ability to touch on his deepest fears. “If you’d organised your Death Eaters better maybe you’d know what the Prophecy says.”

Voldemort screamed in rage. Harry’s taunt had been deliberate in hoping it would distract Voldemort long enough for him to escape.

“Well, since Legilimency failed that night at the Ministry, I will show you something instead. Maybe these will help to persuade you…”



Harry’s taunting had failed. If anything, it had made Voldemort angrier and more desperate to hear the Prophecy than ever before. As it was, Harry found himself being dragged ever deeper into darkness, consumed by Voldemort’s hatred, and he was forced to watch many things Voldemort himself had seen.

First, a small boy stood playing with a toy broomstick. He was laughing and balloons around a table read ‘Happy Birthday Alex’. His parents were watching him, laughing at his obvious delight. Harry then felt Voldemort reveal himself to the small family, turn his wand on them, and release a flash of brilliant green light. The boy fell to the floor. The last thing he ever heard was his mother’s scream.

The next memory Harry saw was of a group of Death Eaters slowly torturing a muggle family high in the air; their bodies twitching and juddering, their screams deafening.

Then there was a single wizard, duelling against six Death Eaters, a jet of green light struck him in the back. He crumpled to the floor.

The next he saw was Cedric Diggory standing in a grave yard, the horrifyingly familiar flash of green crumpling him to the floor.


As Voldemort showed Harry memory after memory, Harry’s screams grew louder and louder. Please, Harry pleaded, stop this.

“You know how to stop this, Harry. Just let me hear the Prophecy.”

“Never!” Harry whispered. “I’m not going to give in to you.”

“Ok,” said Voldemort. “I’ll show you something else shall I?”

Ron, Hermione and Ginny stood, side by side, against a dungeon wall. One by one, Voldemort turned his wand on them, each of his friends twitching and screaming horribly before he raised his wand. Ron, his face covered in blood looked directly at Harry, his eyes wide and fearful. “Help us Harry, just give him the prophecy!” he pleaded. “We can’t hold out much longer…”

“No!” Harry screamed. “This isn’t real; it’s a trick! This isn’t happening!”

“Very well,” an icy voice breathed. “I wasn’t going to show you this but maybe I should, since you need so much persuasion…”

This time, Harry felt he was somewhere familiar. The room he was in was warm and welcoming, a bright fire in the corner, crackling merrily. A woman with bright green eyes stood over by the window. A man with untidy black hair sat at a well scrubbed wooden table, reading the Daily Prophet. The date on the front read October 31st, 1981.

“No,” Harry pleaded, “please no.”

At that instant, James Potter raised his head, fear in his eyes. He leapt up and drew his wand from the pocket of his robes.

“Lily, take Harry and go! It’s him! Go! Run! I’ll hold him off “”

Lily took one last desperate look at her husband, nodded slightly, and stumbled from the room.

High pitched laughter filled the room and James went rigid. His back straight, his head held high.

Voldemort didn’t say anything, he just flicked his wand. It was at point blank range. Harry screamed louder than he ever had in his life. Voldemort laughed again, high, piercing, unfeeling. James Potter lay motionless on the floor. “Now for the other,” hissed Voldemort, looking with satisfaction at James.


Harry couldn’t cope anymore. He was completely broken, his fighting spirit shattered. Voldemort laughed cruelly again. At that moment Harry felt himself hit incredibly hard over the head and he retched. Voldemort stopped laughing. “What on Earth…?” Harry was hit again and he struggled to stay conscious. He was hit again and was consumed by silence.








A/N : I hope you like it. Reviews please!
The Remittomissum Charm by Stormy
“Has he said anything?” Dumbledore queried.

“Yes,” Molly answered quickly. “He mentioned something about the Prophecy, something like he’d never tell it. He spoke of the Death Eaters and said that if they were organised better he would know what it said. He also said he’d never give in, if that means anything.”

“Has it been his voice throughout? Or has it…changed at all?”

Everyone in the room looked blank except Ron, who looked fearfully at Dumbledore and answered “No.”

Dumbledore sighed. “Very well.”

Moving closer to Harry, he knelt down beside him and held his hand. “Harry?” he called softly. “Harry, if you can hear me, come back to us. If you cannot escape from him, give us some sign you can hear me.” Harry didn’t move. “Harry, come back to us now,” Dumbledore repeated, more sternly this time. “Break from him and come back.”

Everyone in Grimmauld Place was silent; everyone was watching Harry with a mixture of fear and confusion, save Dumbledore alone who looked perfectly calm.

“No!” Harry screamed. “This isn’t real; it’s a trick! This isn’t happening!” Dumbledore went rigid. A few seconds of silence followed before Harry whispered “No, please no.”

As if broken out of a trance, Dumbledore stood up and drew his wand. Harry let out a high, piecing scream.

“What are you doing?” gasped Ginny. “What the hell are you doing?!”

Without answering, Dumbledore flicked his wand and a loud crack echoed around the room. Harry, still lying on the floor, retched and cried out in pain.

“Stop it!” Ginny, Ron and Hermione shouted together.

“Can’t you see it’s hurting him?” yelled Lupin.

Dumbledore acted as if he couldn’t hear them. Looking down at Harry, Dumbledore raised his wand twice more, each time he flicked the end, a loud crack followed by Harry’s desperate screams reverberated around the room. Everyone present fell silent, gaping at Dumbledore’s apparent madness and loss of control. Not one of them, though, could bring themselves to intervene.

As the third crack faded, along with Harry’s screams, Dumbledore twisted round and walked out the room. For the second time in less than ten minutes, he left a stunned silence behind him.

From the floor, Harry coughed and looked up. “What happened?” he croaked.

“Harry!” Mrs Weasley cried, throwing herself at him. “You’re alright! For a while back there we all thought…”

Ignoring this last comment Harry continued urgently. “Dumbledore. Where’s he? He was here a moment ago; it could only have been him. No one else could have had the power…” his voice fading into silence.

“Ummmm, Dumbledore left a few moments ago, Harry.” Arthur volunteered carefully. “He, well, he…” looking uneasily around him.

“Where did he go?” Harry asked, pulling himself upright.

“Maybe it’s better if you stayed here for a while, Harry. So you can…recover.” Lupin broke in.

“You’re not going anywhere, boy,” cut in Moody’s growling voice.

“Don’t mess with me, guys. I’ve got to see him.”

Glancing at the door, Hermione whispered “Maybe now’s not the time Harry.”

In an exact copy of Dumbledore himself, Harry also twisted round and walked out the room.

“Harry! No…”

The door slammed behind him.

“Do we follow him?” Tonks asked.

“Too right,” Moody answered. “Not when Dumbledore’s like he is.”

“Yeah!” cried Fred. “We’ve got to find Harry!” Murmurs of agreement came from nearly everyone else.

“No!” Lupin cut in. “No. We shouldn’t follow him.”

“Why ever not?” came the confused answer.

“Because…” Lupin hesitated, “…because he didn’t mean to hurt Harry. Did any of you see his face?” Everyone shook their heads. “I didn’t think so. Well, I did. And I’ve never seen Dumbledore look the way he did then. Not even when Lily and James died. Dumbledore hasn’t lost his mind, he was protecting Harry. No, I don’t know what he did, I don’t know what was going on with Harry, I don’t even know what spell he used, but I know he was helping Harry.”

“I do,” whispered Hermione.

“What?” snapped Moody.

“I said, I do know what spell he used. Dumbledore, I mean. It’s really difficult to do, some people say it isn’t even a real spell as it requires so much power and they believe no one could ever summon the strength of feelings to use it. It’s called the Remittomissum charm, and it means ‘to send back’. It’s designed to force back things where ordinary spells can’t work, like if something unimaginably powerful is in someone’s mind,” she continued.

“I found it in ‘Spells Founded in Theory but Never Proved’ if you want to know; and it’s supposed to cause pain to both people involved, although more so to the attacker. There wasn’t anything else except a note saying it could never be achieved as there was no incantation for it. That’s all I know,” she finished.

A shocked silence followed this. It was Ron who finally broke the tension.

“Hermione, is there anything you don’t know?”

*~*~*~*


“I thought you’d come, Harry,” Dumbledore said softly.

Dumbledore was in the front room of Grimmauld Place, his head in his hands, looking older than he ever had in his life.

Shutting the door again behind him, Harry walked over to the headmaster, stunned at what had just happened. Without looking at him, Dumbledore raised his wand and pointed it at the door. “It’s nothing Harry, I’m not trying to keep you in here,” he said quietly, seeing Harry’s uneasy expression. “All I’ve done is put a secrecy charm on the door. That way we cannot be overheard if someone interrupts us. It is more for my sake than yours, I’m afraid.”

Harry waited. For several seconds, Dumbledore said nothing. He then seemed to gather himself together and looked directly at Harry. There was nothing, Harry realised, no small smile, no twinkle in his eyes, just fear and sadness. It made Harry more afraid than at any other time of his life.

“Shall I start first or do you want to?” he asked gently.

“I will,” answered Harry. He spoke of everything that had happened; his dreams of Sirius all summer, his pain at returning to Grimmauld Place and, most importantly, what had happened barely five minutes ago.

“Very well,” Dumbledore said when he finished. “It is my turn now. Please, just listen to me. Make your own opinions about me afterwards. Tell whoever you like what I’ve said. I will not stop you.”

Dumbledore stood up, turned his back on Harry, and walked over to the empty fireplace. He stood there, trance like again, for several minutes. Harry waited silently. It was so unlike Dumbledore to turn his back on him, that Harry realised that there was some huge internal battle going on inside his headmaster. Never before had he seen Dumbledore looking as afraid as he did now.

“Professor?” Harry asked quietly.

“Sorry, Harry.” Dumbledore replied, coming back to sit where he had before. “Please sit down.

“When Nymphadora Tonks contacted me shortly after your arrival at Headquarters, I can honestly say I was not overly concerned. To be perfectly honest with you, I was expecting Voldemort to make some attempt to gain access to your mind as soon as you left the protection of Privet Drive. This was only a suspicion, though, and I hoped that your departure from there would go unnoticed. Another of my mistakes,” he added quietly.

“Anyway, when I reached Headquarters, I felt that the wards I have put around it would be sufficient to stop most attempts to penetrate through the walls to you. Again, I was wrong, and I did not fully realise your danger until it was nearly too late.”

Dumbledore sighed before he continued, looking at Harry directly. “When I arrived, I attempted to call you back. No wizard in the world has ever been as proficient in Legilimency as Lord Voldemort. This meant that whereas usually an external force, such as another person, can break the contact formed during Legilimency, this time Lord Voldemort managed to block forcefully any attempt I made to bring you back. As soon as I realised this, I was aware that there were only two ways to break his power.”

Harry sat motionless, very aware of his wildly beating heart. “Go on,” he breathed.

“One of those ways is to kill either the Legilimens themselves, or their victim. As you know, I cannot destroy Voldemort and sacrificing you is, obviously, out of the question. This left me only one option. The option I chose was the Remittomissum charm. The spell is designed to force out any presence in another’s mind. I’m not even sure if the charm is legal to perform, but that is irrelevant as I knew it was the only way to save you.”

“The spell,” Dumbledore continued, “is very violent, causing extreme pain to anyone it is directed at although less so on the victim than on their attacker. As it happens, the charm will have weakened Voldemort considerably for some time.”

Dumbledore shuddered involuntary. “I am truly sorry, Harry. I had no wish at all to inflict any more pain on you. If anything like this ever happens again, please let myself or another member of the Order know. As for today, I will tell no one of what you told me, and that includes the rest of the Order. If you wish to tell them, however, you are more than welcome to do so.”

“I couldn’t cope at the end. It was like I was drowning. I was about to give up until you…” Harry’s voice faded into a sob. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“You are welcome, Harry,” Dumbledore replied quietly. Harry buried his head in his hands, unable to contain his emotions any longer. When he next looked up, Dumbledore had gone.








A/N: Remitto [missum] is a Latin verb meaning ‘to send back’, I didn’t just make it up : )

If you have any suggestions with regards to the plot or fillers, let me know and I'll try to include them if they're good!

Hope you liked this chapter - please let me know your opinions! 300+ reads but only 10 reviews. All comments are really appreciated!
The Clamcelo by Stormy
Quietly, Harry stood up and made his way back to the others; his face dry and his eyes no longer bloodshot. For some reason, Harry felt unimaginably tired, and Harry had a small suspicion that it was partly to do with Dumbledore. Just before he’d left, he’d whispered something Harry couldn’t quite catch. Quite possibly, it was a charm for dreamless sleep. Pushing open the kitchen door, Harry calmly walked into the room and looked round at everyone.

“Hiya,” he said awkwardly. “Look, before you ask me any questions, I’ll tell you all I can.”

“You don’t have to, Harry,” interrupted Lupin. “We can guess most of it anyway. If you don’t want to say anything we’re more than happy to leave it.”

“Have you seen Dumbledore?”

“Well, yes, we have actually. About two hours ago now. He said absolutely nothing, which is incredibly unlike him.”

Harry didn’t look surprised. “As for you saying you can guess most of it, I can almost promise you that you can’t. When I arrived Voldemort possessed me. Through him, I saw several of his memories. I think you can work out the details. The final memory he showed me was… was of Hallowe’en, fifteen years ago. I was on the verge of giving in to him until Dumbledore…intervened,” Harry broke off. “If it hadn’t been for him…”

Molly, sitting in the corner of the room, was sobbing into Ginny’s shoulder. Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Fred and George just looked shell shocked. Even Moody was shaking.

Lupin stood up, walked over to Harry, and put his arms around him. “For a while…; first Lily and James, then Sirius, then you…”Lupin broke off, unable to say another word. Finally, they pulled apart.

“Look, I’m here now; safe and well,” murmured Harry. “How about we forget about this. If Voldemort can govern us by fear, we’ve as good as lost the war already, before we’ve even started.”

“That’s the most intelligent that’s ever come out of your mouth, Potter,” a familiar voice added. “I’m not stopping here long, I was just going to give you this, Potter, and you this,” Professor McGonagall added, looking over at Moody. She handed a single phoenix feather to Harry, a small package to Alastor Moody and made to leave the room.

“Ah yes, I forgot something as well,” she added with a twinkle in her eyes. “Potter, Weasley, Granger, well done. We decided it was better to give these to you personally, since I would be seeing you.” She waved her wand once, smiled, and left the room.

All three looked down and saw large, thick, parchment envelopes in their laps, the Ministry of Magic crest in the top left hand corner, the Hogwarts crest in the top right.

O.W.Ls” muttered Harry.

“Well noticed, Brainbox,” snapped Ron, who had gone incredibly pale.

“After three then,” Hermione said breathlessly. “Three, two, one…”

Simultaneously, they ripped open their letters.

Dear Mr Potter,

On behalf of the Ministry of Magic we are delighted to inform you of your Ordinary Wizarding Level exam results. Due to a disruption during the exams, all Astronomy and History of Magic grades have been raised to what is perceived to be a reasonable level to compensate for the time lost during each exam.

Once again, I offer my congratulations.

Griselda Marchbanks
Wizarding Examination Authority

Obtainable Grades:
O = Outstanding
E = Exceeds Expectations
A = Acceptable
P = Poor
D = Dreadful

Astronomy : E
Care of Magical Creatures : O
Charms : E
Defence Against the Dark Arts : O
Divination : D
Herbology : E
History of Magic : A
Potions : O
Transfiguration : O

Total O.W.Ls received : 8


Harry guiltily looked back at the letter. It was his fault the marks had been altered in the History of Magic exam. Even so, Harry couldn’t suppress a grin. Eight O.W.Ls, which was more than he could have hoped for! As for Divination, who cares, he thought. Stupid subject.

“…So I got three Os, four Es, two As and a D, although that was in Divination. Stupid subject.” Ron said.

Harry smiled. That was the same as him in Divination!

“What about you, Potter?” growled Moody.

“Er, four Os, three Es, an A and a D. That was in Divination too,” he said, grinning over at Ron.

“Well done Harry!” smiled Lupin. “What were your Os in?”

“Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures and, um, Potions.”

“Never!” squealed Ron. How’d you manage that?!”

“Dunno,” grinned Harry awkwardly. “What about you Hermione?”

“All Os” she said unblushingly.

Ron snorted. “Wow Hermione!” complimented Harry, a slight smirk on his face at Ron’s reaction.

“Well done all of you,” praised Mrs Weasley. “Celebration. Now!”

Glowing with success, Harry stood up and went over to Mrs Weasley to help with the celebratory dinner. The phoenix feather lay forgotten by everyone, and only Lupin gave it a second, slightly curious glance.

*~*~*~*


The rest of the summer holidays past easily. On his arrival at Grimmauld Place, Harry had found it incredibly hard, each room bringing back painful memories of Sirius, and he’d often wake in the night, screaming for him. Only once did Harry dream of Voldemort, and all the dream contained was Voldemort’s laughter. Harry, who had woken up in a cold sweat, crept downstairs to find Lupin sitting at the kitchen table, holding a mug of cocoa.

“Harry! What’s happened? Is everything all right? Shall I get Dumbledore?”

Harry blushed slightly. “No… everything’s fine.”

“Then,” Lupin continued, looking sideways at Harry, “why on earth were you tossing and turning in bed, crying, and then got the urge to come wandering around downstairs at 3.30 in the morning?

“You can tell me, Harry,” he continued softly.

“Well, it was nothing much. Just Voldemort,” Harry mumbled.

Lupin sighed. “Harry, when are you going to learn? Don’t keep things like that to yourself. We all saw the state you were in when you arrived. You were skin and bone! Don’t let that happen again Harry; we can’t help you if you push us away.”

“I know,” Harry muttered, “I just don’t want to put any more of my friends in danger. The dream was just Voldemort laughing. He didn’t say anything, he just laughed.”

“Alright, Harry. Thank you for telling me,” answered Lupin. “Now, how do you fancy a cup of hot chocolate before you go back to bed?” It was 5am before Harry left the kitchen, but he felt happier and more relaxed than he had in a long time.

*~*~*~*


“Wake up, sleepy head!” yelled Ron, leaping onto his bed. “Come on, Harry; we’re not going to wait forever you know!”

“Wha…?” groaned Harry. “Why the rush?”

“Well, dipstick, it does happen to be your birthday, in case you didn’t know.”

Harry sat bolt upright, blushing. “Don’t tell me you’d forgotten?!” exclaimed Ron in disbelief. “Honestly…”

Harry threw his pillow at him. “Well, I remember now,” he countered. “I’ll just get dressed and I’ll be down,”

Smirking, Ron left the room.

Something squirmed uncomfortably inside Harry. Don’t think about him now, Harry muttered to himself. Sirius would have wanted me to enjoy today. Still uneasy, Harry went downstairs.

“Happy Birthday!” came the shouts of everyone as he walked into the kitchen. Blushing again, Harry glanced round at everyone gathered there. His eyes, though, were then drawn towards a large heap of presents perched precariously against the far wall.

“Are they for me?” asked Harry in disbelief.

“No, Harry,” George answered in mock seriousness. “We decided to throw a party for that fat muggle bloke that lives at number 13…Who do you think they’re for?!”

Throwing George a disgusted look that couldn’t quite hide his excitement, Harry walked over to the presents.

Fred and George gave him some new prototype products they had just developed to try out at Hogwarts, as well as refills for his snackbox supplies. Tonks and Lupin gave Harry some new defence books, Ron gave him a large bag of chocolate frogs and Hermione had found a book called ‘Advanced Seeker Tactics’. The rest of the Weasley family had pitched in together to give Harry a huge box of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans, Liquorice Wands and Fizzing Whizzbees.

Grinning happily, Harry stood up to thank everyone. Everyone began to disperse and Ron, Charlie and Bill went of upstairs and Harry thought they had a somewhat secretive look about them. Hermione, on the other hand, was chatting to Harry animatedly about nothing in particular and Harry suspected she was trying to stop him following the Weasley boys. After about twenty minutes, Harry excused himself to use the bathroom and he slipped out into the hall and took several deep breaths.

It had been a brilliant birthday so far and yet he couldn’t quite shake off the guilty feeling of when he thought of Sirius. Don’t be stupid, he thought, this is my birthday, I’ve got to enjoy myself.

“Everything alright, Harry?” A voice questioned, breaking through his thoughts.

“Yes,” Harry answered. “Really,” he added as Bill raised an eyebrow. “I was just thinking about Sirius, that’s all.”

Bill looked down and then suddenly gained control of himself. “Harry, why don’t you come upstairs?”

Curiously, Harry followed him.

“Surprise!” all the Weasleys shouted. On the table in the middle of the upstairs lounge, lay the largest birthday cake he’d ever seen in his life. Layer upon layer of chocolate cake stood covered with glitter and small, shiny cut outs of stars and moons, which gradually faded from gold to silver and back again.

“Brilliant!” exclaimed Harry.

“We knew you never had any birthday cakes at the Dursleys so we thought you should have one with us “ hopefully making up for all the ones you’ve missed,”

“Thanks,” Harry replied, although quieter than before.

After an afternoon of fun, food and general chatting, Harry made his way back upstairs to his room. This has been the best birthday ever, Harry thought.

And it was about to get better.

*~*~*~*


Since Sirius had died, Harry had become the legal owner of Grimmauld Place with all Sirius’ remaining money being divided between Lupin, Harry and the Weasleys. Sirius’ money had helped the Weasley family no end, in the fact that they now had enough money now to enjoy themselves without having to worry about every knut spent.

Because of this, Bill and Charlie, who had come back to England to help with the Order, were able to afford their own flats in London and, since Fred and George now lived over their shop in Diagon Alley, Harry had a room to himself.

It was late, about 11.30, when Harry finally went to his room feeling tired but exhilarated at such a brilliant birthday. Closing his door, Harry made his way over to his bed and fell on to it, staring at the ceiling.

If only Sirius was here, he thought. Then today would have been per-

Harry stooped abruptly as a huge flash of fire appeared directly above him and a small package fell with a thud onto his bed.

“Fawkes?” Harry muttered. He reached over, grabbed the parcel, and untied the neatly knotted string. A small, black box fell out, along with a note written in narrow, loopy handwriting Harry had only ever seen three times before.

This is a Clamcelo - also known as a secrecy orb. You might find it useful.
Happy Birthday.


Intrigued, Harry opened the box to reveal a small, clear blue ball. It could easily have passed for a marble except that in the very centre there was a small prick of brightness which seemed to give off a remarkable amount of light for its size. Looking down, Harry noticed the lid of the box had a slip of paper attached to it. He read it interestedly.

Instructions on how to use your Clamcelo:

1.)Select a fact or memory you wish to keep secret
2.)Holding the Clamcelo in your wand hand, focus on the light inside and the thought passes into the orb itself where it can then be recalled in the same way as above.

Please note : the first person to touch this orb becomes the rightful owner of it and its secrets. If the orb has been touched before, it is invisible unless the rightful owner chooses to reveal to another person of the existence of the orb. Even then, memories and thoughts can only be read if the rightful owner has given their permission. For thoughts to be revealed, the owner must give permission willingly “ nothing is revealed if the permission has been forced in any way.


“Wow!” Harry whispered. He couldn’t believe it “ the Clamcelo was like a secure Pensive. Rereading the instructions, the final sentence leapt out at him. "The owner must give permission willingly “ nothing is revealed if the permission has been forced in any way." So Voldemort couldn’t find out anything if he forced information from him, Harry realised.

Instantly, he picked up the Clamcelo and thought of the Prophecy. The orb began to glow brightly and vibrate until Harry finished the memory of the night Sirius had died. Feeling greatly relieved that there was a way he could keep things secret now from anyone he wanted, including Voldemort, he fell into the first deep, dreamless sleep he’d had in a long time.











A/N : Back to Latin again!

Clam means secretly while celo means to conceal. So, literally, Clamcelo means ‘to conceal secretly’, just in case anyone was wondering.

PS: Pronounce Latin how you like, no-one knows how words should be pronounced at all although I’d guess you would say it CLAM-SELL-LOW. Quite a handy language isn’t it, since no one can agree on how to say anything!!!

Please review, I love knowing you opinions on how well I'm doing. Constuctive critisism is also appreciated... 50+ reads but no reviews for this chapter..... Go on - you know you want to!
Going Home by Stormy
“Diagon Alley!” Harry shouted, and he felt himself dragged downwards by a rush of flames. It was the last day of the holidays so all the Weasleys and he had decided to visit Diagon Alley to pick up their school supplies and visit Fred and George’s shop.

Walking down the narrow street, licking ice creams with Ron and Hermione, Harry felt incredibly happy. Quality Quidditch Supplies had a new prototype broom in the store and Harry smiled slightly at the group of second year students huddled around the window. One of the boys, who had short, dark hair and a few freckles, seemed to be nearly exploding with excitement. Ron stood on his toes and looked over their heads and read the sign to the others.


“‘The Lightning X. The Lightning X has been designed to incorporate the best designs from both the Nimbus range and the Cleansweep group. The broom, made of willow, is designed to reach speeds of up to 130mph and incorporates an unbreakable steering charm. The varnish also contains a curse repelling function which can deflect most hexes and curses as well as incorporating a gripping charm to aid the player during more difficult moves. Price is 1,299 Galleons.’


“Ha!” Ron continued. “The Firebolt gets up to 150 miles an hour!”

“Then again, a gripping charm could be useful, Harry,” Hermione added. “I’ll put one on the Firebolt if you like.”

“No thanks,” Harry laughed. “I don’t like the idea of being stuck to my broom no matter how hard the bludgers hit me.”

“Fair comment,” she replied. “Come on, lets get our books and we’ll all meet up at Fred and George’s shop in an hour.”

Leaving Ron looking around Quality Quidditch Supplies, Harry made his way to Flourish and Blotts to pick up his new school books. The Hogwarts letter had arrived a few days before and Harry was relieved to see he had made all the classes he needed to, to become an Auror. After picking up his books, he visited Madam Malkins’ Robes for All Occasions as his school ones were about three inches too short. There was, however, a bit of a queue, mainly consisting of first years and their slightly hysterical parents who wanted to make sure their “ickle one looked their very best for their new school.” Harry sat down, resigned to a wait, and he picked up an abandoned copy of the Daily Prophet and scanned the front page with interest.

YOU-KNOW-WHO ‘SURPRISINGLY QUIET’


The Minister for Magic today announced that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had been ‘surprisingly quiet, compared to what we expected”. The magical community again live in fear as You-Know-Who made his presence known to the magical world barely two months ago. “We are currently doing everything we can,” an obviously flustered Fudge continued. “We are intending to stop Lord V….thing, you know, Lord Vo…d…thing, from continuing any plans he may have.”

When the Minister was challenged by a member of the public as to why he never listened to Albus Dumbledore, Fudge declined comment. Questions have been raised as to whether Albus Dumbledore should take over as Minister of Magic, especially as he is acknowledged by many to be the only wizard You-Know-Who fears.

Meanwhile, the Boy-Who-Lived, who has been the subject of much ridicule in the last year due to his insistence the Dark Lord had returned, is due to return to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry tomorrow to begin his sixth year. It is widely hoped that the school will remain a place of safety for the student population and that the coming war will not disrupt their magical education.


Slightly uneasy, Harry made his way up to the counter to have his robes fitted.

Around ten minutes later, Harry made his way over to Fred and George’s shop and found he was unable to hide his smile at the bright orange sign which read ‘Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes’. Having supplied the gold for the twins to realise their ambitions of opening a joke shop, he was immensely relieved to see the shop doing a roaring trade.

“Hiya Harry!” Fred shouted as he made his way through the shop. “Come over here!”

Walking past stacks of portable swamps, waterfalls, glaciers and lava pits, Harry saw Fred holding a box of what was unmistakably snackboxes. “How’s business?” Harry asked.

“Booming,” George answered, appearing around the corner. “And it’s all thanks to you, mate.”

After meeting up with Ron and Hermione, the trio spent the rest of the afternoon trying out Fred and George’s new inventions. Hermione refused to begin with, until Fred commented that they had better go and find Dobby as he’d be willing to try a Snake-hair Sandwich. Still a S.P.E.W fanatic, Hermione relented and spent five minutes with her hair as a nest of young Adders.

When it was time to go home, Fred offered them the use of the shop’s fireplace, and handed Ron some Floo powder. As soon as Ron threw the powder into the flames, a thousand spiders ran out of the fire place and streamed towards Ron. Frozen in terror, he stared at the wave of spiders but as soon as one of the spiders touched him, they all vanished. Ron looked as is he’d just been Petrified. “Whaddyadothatfor?” Ron gasped, totally frantic, while Harry, Hermione, Fred and George were doubled over with laughter. “What did you do that for?!”

“Fear powder,” George laughed, as he gained control of himself. “It acts the same way as a Boggart but as soon as whatever it is touches you, it vanishes.”

“Or, if no one touches it, it only lasts for five minutes at the most,” smirked Fred.

“Only six sickles a packet,” George added.

Still laughing, the twins offered them the real Floo powder and one by one, Harry, Ron and Hermione made their way back to Grimmauld Place.

*~*~*~*


Life at Grimmauld Place, in general, had been very similar to the year before. Order meetings were held around twice a week, and, as always, Mrs Weasley was managing to prevent all Harry, Ron and Ginny’s attempts to eavesdrop. The only snatches of conversation they had managed to overhear were just about things they knew already.

The thing which surprised Harry, though, was when the Prophecy was mentioned; no one seemed to know anything more than they had twelve months earlier, which was basically nothing. Dumbledore had kept his silence with regards to the Prophecy’s contents and for that Harry was eternally grateful. It wasn’t that Harry didn’t want the others to know, it was more he didn’t want the knowledge of it overshadowing everyone’s thoughts.

Each night Harry was well aware that the others gave him curious glances before he went to bed. Mostly, he assumed, it was due to his frequent nightmares, although these had eased up over the last few days. Often Harry found that if he used the Clamcelo for anything which was really worrying him, he could sleep relatively peacefully at night.

The only thing which truly shocked Harry, though, was the fact that Snape was blanking him completely. Several times he had been to Headquarters but if Harry came anywhere near him, Snape somehow managed to slip away. On the surface, Harry didn’t seem to care; often showing an obvious anger and hatred towards him although deep down Harry felt a glimmer of confusion. Why would Snape suddenly change his attitude towards me? Harry wondered. Maybe he knows the Prophecy… And yet as time went by, Harry felt less and less convinced about that theory. Although he kept his confusion secret, the only thing which Harry could use to conceal his opinions was the loss of Sirius. This, he had quickly realised though was just a way of using Sirius’ memory and feeling guilty, he quickly abandoned it.

Sometimes, it’s easier to forget than to forgive.

*~*~*~*


“Harry! Ronald! Hermione! Ginny! Wake up! The Hogwarts Express is leaving in an hour and a half!” Molly Weasley’s voice punctured through Harry’s sleep. “Breakfast will be ready in five minutes, I expect you all to be dressed by then.”

Ron groaned. “It’s the same every year. Why can’t we have a bit of a lie in?!”

Yawning himself, Harry sat up. Ron continued to groan and complain, still not opening his eyes. An evil grin crossed Harry’s face, and he crept over to the sink, filled his cupped hands with ice cold water, and threw it across Ron.

“Aaaargh!” yelled Ron. “What the…?” Looking up, he saw Harry and Mrs Weasley laughing so hard they could barely stand up. “I’ll have to remember that one, Harry,” she choked. “I’ve never seen Ron move so fast in his life!”

Ron picked up his somewhat damp pillow and threw it Harry. Still laughing, they both went down to breakfast.

They all were remarkably organised, helped largely by the fact they had packed the day before and they had put the clothes they were going to wear by the sides of their beds. It stopped the usual fight over socks. As it happened, they arrived at Kings Cross with plenty of time to spare.

“Now then,” Mrs Weasley said as she ushered them all over towards the train. “I hope you all have a very good year. Behave, all of you, and I’ll see you at Christmas, all going well…” she tailed of into silence.

“Bye Mrs Weasley!” called Hermione. “Thanks for everything you’ve done for us!”

“Bye Mum!” chorused Ron and Ginny together.

“Bye Mrs Weasley, and really, thanks for everything.” Harry called.

“It was nothing dear. Have a good term all of you!” she called.

The whistle blew and the doors of the train slammed shut. All four of them waved until the Hogwarts Express turned a corner and hid the platform from their sight. “Come on,” muttered Ron. “Let’s go and find some seats.” Eventually, towards the end of the train, they found an empty compartment.

Settling down, Harry and Ron began to discuss Quidditch and who would be on the Gryffindor team. Ginny muttered something about visiting one of her friends and disappeared down the train. After a while, Hermione, fed up with the minor argument between Harry and Ron over who the best chaser was, got out the Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6, and buried herself in its pages.

The train wound its way north, and at one o’clock, the tea lady came along the train and Harry bought pumpkin pasties for them all to share. Harry had just got his exploding snap cards out when the compartment door slid open.

Draco Malfoy and his cronies stood in the doorway, smirking at something. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Potty, Weasel and the Mud-blood!”

“Say that again and I’ll hex you from here to the moon and back,” retorted Harry as he grabbed Ron’s robes and pulled him back into his seat. “How’s your dad enjoying his permanent holiday in Azkaban?”

Malfoy paled visibly, his eyes flashing with anger. “Say that again Potter and you’ll really regret it.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot what sensitive, timid creatures ferrets are…”

“Laugh now, Potty, but you won’t be later,” sneered Malfoy. “We got the rat back and then we went for the dog. How about go for the cat next? Shame to break with tradition, wouldn’t it.”

Laughing insanely, he walked away. Harry felt uneasy; and looking at Hermione, he realised she had picked up on Malfoy’s hint too.

“Come on Harry,” Ron interrupted, “what about that game of snap?” Smiling slightly, Harry pulled out his pack. Decoding cryptic messages had never Ron’s strong point anyway.

*~*~*~*


At seven o’clock, the Hogwarts Express pulled in at Hogsmeade and Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville all shared a coach up to the castle. As they passed into the entrance hall, Peeves appeared out of nowhere and began to pelt a group of third year Hufflepuffs with dung bombs. Covering their heads, they all sprinted into the great hall.

Looking up at the enchanted ceiling, Harry paused to admire the millions of stars which glittered and sparkled; total unreachable, even by wizards. A draft was blowing through the hall from the entrance, and Harry fancied it carried a faint whisper; “…the indications have been that wizardkind is living through nothing more than a brief calm between two wars…the fight must break out soon again…” Shivering slightly, Harry made his way to the Gryffindor table.

Looking up at the staff table a tall, black wizard sitting between Dumbledore and Snape caught his attention. “Isn’t that Kinsl…?” Harry was forced to break off as the doors swung open and the first years filed in. Barely ten feet in front of them, the tattered sorting hat sat perched on the stool. Everyone in the hall looked at it expectantly.

“Many years have passed me by,
Since four great wizards came from ‘on high’.
Together they built these age old walls,
And formed the chambers, rooms and halls.
Together they chose to teach the arts,
Of spells and potions in all its parts.
And yet each founder had a view,
So four great houses formed anew.

First was Ravenclaw, of bronze and blue,
Whose power of learning was beaten by few,
Next, kind Hufflepuff, of yellow and black,
She took those who the others threw back.
Third came Slytherin, of silver and green,
Who wanted his students cunning and keen.
Fourth, brave Gryffindor, of red and gold,
Who brought the courageous into the fold.

The four great houses worked as one,
Through understanding, love and fun.
And when their differences brought a fight,
Hogwarts withstood the founders’ plight.
Now dark times are upon us again,
And before we’re through, there will be pain.
Take my advice, try me on, don’t fear,
For if you ask for help, someone will hear.”

The Great Hall rang with applause, most students talking about the Sorting Hat’s warning between themselves. Harry was silent; very aware that after the last sentence Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape had all looked at him.

Professor McGonagall stood up and began to call the first years forward. At last, the sorting was over and the house-elves once again excelled themselves with a magnificent feast; the food ranging from sausages and burgers to lemon sole and crispy duck pancakes. Once every plate was cleared, Dumbledore stood up and beamed around at every student present, his eyes lingering on the Gryffindor table a little longer than the others.

“Welcome! Welcome to Hogwarts. Before you all make your way up to your dormitories, I need to make a few announcements. Firstly, all Educational Decrees, starting from number twenty-two, have been disbanded.”

Cheers erupted around the hall.

“All bans, detainments and forbidden areas created by one of those decrees are no longer enforced. Secondly, first years need to be told that the Forbidden Forest is strictly forbidden, as its name suggests. This reminder should also be taken into account by several of our older students as well.” Dumbledore’s eyes flicked over to a pair of Ravenclaw fifth years and the majority of the DA members.

“Third, Mr filch has requested that no magic is used between classes and that all products obtainable from Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes are banned; and that also includes a certain snackbox product in case anyone was wondering.”

An uneasy silence covered all the tables except the Slytherins’. No one knew Dumbledore had known about the skiving snackboxes; especially since he wasn’t even present at Hogwarts when they were used.

Dumbledore continued, his eye twinkling. “And finally, I have great pleasure in introducing our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Shacklebolt.” Kingsley glanced over at Harry, Ron and Hermione as applause swept the hall. Each of them smiled back in return.

“Goodnight all of you,” Dumbledore finished. “Prefects, please lead your houses up to your dormitories at once.”

“Let’s go,” said Hermione. “If we’re quick we can beat the crowds…”

Taking a shortcut, they arrived at the Fat Lady’s portrait a good five minutes before the first years. “Oh damn!” moaned Ron when they got there. “We dunno what the password is!”

Harry groaned.

“Hiya, guys!” called a breathless voice.

“Neville!” smiled Hermione. “You don’t know what the password is, do you?”

“Sure I do,” grinned Neville, “I asked a prefect downstairs. The password’s ‘phoenix’!” As the portrait swung open, and Neville scrambled through the hole first, all three of the trio exchanged highly uneasy glances.

“Coincidence,” said Ron quietly.

“Yeah, maybe…”

Looking around Gryffindor Tower, with the familiar chairs, tables and crackling fires, Harry, Ron and Hermione felt at last they had escaped the war “ even if it would only be for a little while.

*~*~*~*


Once they were all back in their dormitories, Harry gazed at the scarlet hangings and smiled. At last he was home. Pulling his pyjamas out of his trunk at the foot of his bed, he called goodnight to Ron. A loud snore told him he was already asleep.

When Harry awoke the next morning, however, he didn’t remember waking up crying from a dream about a phoenix catching fire, and becoming nothing more than a pile of ash which a spiral of wind picked up and scattered over a darkened valley.










A/N : Reviews please! Chapters are getting longer; the next has come in at over 3000 words! All comments are really appreciated!
Invisibility by Stormy
It was relatively early when Harry woke up the next morning, although it was nothing to do with struggling to sleep. For the first time in months, Harry awoke with a warm, glowing feeling inside himself and, as he looked around at the scarlet hangings, he understood why.

Over the five years he had spent at Hogwarts he had grown to love the corridors, secret passageways and magical rooms that made up the school, but there was also something deeper than just the fabric of the walls which made Hogwarts the place it was. An air of magic, of mystery, lingered around it; as well as lingering in every student, professor and visitor who had passed through the broad oaken doors into the entrance hall beyond. It wouldn’t be until much later, though, that Harry appreciated this minute yet powerful quality which resided in everyone.

Quietly pulling on his robes, Harry made his way downstairs to the Great Hall for an early breakfast, only pausing briefly to say a quick hello to Nearly Headless Nick. Nick, however, barely acknowledged him as he was muttering something about the Headless Hunt while clutching a translucent letter. Sitting down at the table, Harry poured a glass of pumpkin juice and was surprised to see Hedwig soaring towards him.

“Hello, Hedwig. What do you want?” he asked unconcernedly, assuming she just wanted a bit of attention. Hedwig hooted softly and held out her leg, a Daily Prophet coiled tightly there. Slightly surprised Harry pulled it off, gave Hedwig a rasher of bacon which she carried off towards the owelry, and glanced at the front page. Within seconds, Harry’s blood ran cold.

Ministry Worker Missing “ Believed To Be the Work of You“Know-Who

It has emerged today that Adrian Walsh, senior secretary of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, has mysteriously vanished from his South London home. At present, it is unknown as to when Mr Walsh actually disappeared although any witch or wizard with information is requested to come forward…

Harry skim read the article, a bubble of fear flowing up from the bottom of his stomach. ‘Ministry worker missing…’, ‘mysteriously vanished…’, words jumped out at Harry and each time he read them it was as if someone was twisting a knife inside him. The war was starting, although not properly yet. Knowing Voldemort, it won’t be long, thought Harry, feeling sick as he pushed his uneaten breakfast away from him. But how long have we got…?

When Ron and Hermione came down to breakfast, their reactions were identical to his. Not even Ron could face eating anything and it was a bit of relief to them all when Professor McGonagall, pale faced, handed out the timetables. When she passed Harry his own timetable, her arm jerked and she looked as if she was about to hold Harry’s shoulder but decided against it. Instead, she threw a seemingly careless look in their direction which was filled with fear none the less. Distractedly, Harry glanced down at his timetable and it did little to improve his mood.

“Oh great,” groaned Harry. “Double Transfiguration, Defence Against the Dark Arts and then double Potions. Just how I wanted to start off this year,”

“Come on, Harry, it can’t be that bad,” interrupted Hermione. “At least it’s N.E.W.T classes this time so it should only be people who want to be there.”

Harry smiled humourlessly. “Hermione, the only people who want to be in Potions are the Slytherins. Not much to look forward to, is it?”

“Well mate, you did choose to take it,” injected Ron. “Come on, or we’ll be late for McGonagall.”

The trio walked away towards Transfiguration through the Entrance Hall. None of them noticed Draco Malfoy slipping out of the main doors into the wintry sunlight and the Wizarding world beyond the castle’s boundary.

*~*~*~*


“This year you will be starting your N.E.W.T courses. Each of you who have made this class will have achieved an E or above in you O.W.L exams last year so I expect very high standards from you all. During the course of this year, we will be studying human transfiguration, conjuring and vanishing of living creatures and large scale transfigurations of inanimate objects. I am well aware, however, that many of you will have forgotten almost everything from last year so we will start off today by simply doing some revision of you O.W.L work.”

Turning round, Professor McGonagall flicked her wand and words magically appeared on the board. “I will expect all of you to have transfigured your stones into birds and back again by the end of the lesson. Miss Brown, please hand the stones out, the rest of you, please start your work immediately when you receive your stone.”

Turning round, Professor McGonagall transfigured herself into her tabby cat Animagus form, leapt lightly onto her desk and sat down, staring at them all.

“Is it just me, or is McGonagall scarier as a feline than a Professor?” Ron muttered to Harry. Harry sniggered but quickly stifled it as the cat let out a hiss of anger. “It could be an idea to remember cats have better hearing than humans next time Ron,” Harry whispered back. “I don’t like the idea of losing points for Gryf-”. Harry stopped abruptly as the cat jumped of the desk at sat in front of his desk with a stern look on its face.

Highly embarrassed, Harry and Ron spent the rest of the lesson in silence.

*~*~*~*


“That was an easy lesson, wasn’t it,” commented Hermione as they left Transfiguration and headed towards Defence Against the Dark Arts.

“Easy for you, Hermione, but not for anyone else!” shot back Ron. “Exactly how many breeds of bird did you transfigure that rock into?”

“Nine,” she answered coolly. “A dunnock, a great crested grebe, a lesser spotted woodpecker, the bee hummingbird, a flamingo, a bald headed eag “”

“Whatever, we’ve got the point.”

“You did ask! I seem to remember your bird had one leg and was so heavy it couldn’t take off…”

“Chill, guys, or we’ll be late for Kingsley,” interrupted Harry.

Still bickering, they headed for the fifth floor.

Kingsley stood at the front of the class looking every inch an Auror when Harry, Ron and Hermione entered the classroom. When Kingsley called out the register, he made no signs of recognition towards any of them and launched straight into the lesson.

“Now, I’m sure you’ve had the N.E.W.T lecture so there is no point in me repeating it. I am Professor Shacklebolt and I have devoted my life to fighting the Dark Arts. Now, I am aware that all off you have been members of the defence club that was started last year; am I correct?”

Murmurs of agreement came from everyone, and it struck Harry that there wasn’t a single Slytherin present.

“Good. In that case, there is no point in starting with things like the shield charm as you all know it so I will begin with concealment of yourself. I would like you all to copy this down and then we will attempt the charm at the end.”

Waving his wand, words again appeared on the board although this time it was about concealment rather than stones and budgies.

The art of concealment is probably one of the most important skills of any Auror. The main way of doing this is to conceal all trace of you being somewhere, simply, erasing all signs of yourself. The incantation to do this; to erase all of your magical scent; is ‘Latesco’. The way to achieve this involves…

After around half an hour, everyone had finished copying and got out their wands.

“When this charm is performed correctly, there should be a slight buzzing sound coupled with a small flash of orange light. This is advanced magic so please do not be too disheartened if you cannot master the charm quickly. So then, following the wand movements I described to you, say the incantation and, if done correctly, the spell should look like this.” Raising his wand to shoulder height, he moved the tip in an ‘X’ shape and muttered “Latesco!

Instantly, a buzzing sound came from the wand, along with a small spark of orange light. The whole class applauded and Kingsley smiled at their obvious enthusiasm. “Divide up into pairs then, all of you, and attempt the spell. Good luck and keep focused.”

Hermione tried first but all she got was a faint whistling sound and no light at all.

“You need to focus more, Miss Granger,” commented Kingsley in his deep, distinctive voice. “Focus and the spell will work.” On her second attempt, Hermione managed a small amount of red light with the whistling sound. Shrugging, Hermione stood aside and watched Ron try.

Latesco!” shouted Ron making a large cross in the air which nearly hit Hermione in the face. Nothing happened. Slightly bemused, he turned to see Harry in stitches laughing at him. “What’s so funny?” Ron demanded.

“Sorry Ron,” Harry grinned, gaining control of himself. “It’s just that the whole point of the spell is so you can hide yourself. Who’s gonna miss you waving your arms about and shouting? Not even Crabbe and Goyle could miss that…”

“Harry has got a point there,” added Hermione. “Try again!”

After a few more attempts, Ron managed to get a small amount of sound from his wand but nothing significant. “Go on Harry, you try.”

Latesco!” Harry muttered, making a relatively small ‘X’ with his wand. Instantly, a flash of orange came from his wand but no sound. “Latesco!” Harry said again, but there was still only light coming out of his wand. “Latesco!” This time there was no light; instead there was a relatively quiet buzzing sound. “Oh, for Merlin’s sake…”

“Bad luck there, Harry,” commented Seamus. “Still, you have done better than the rest of us.”

“Good work, Mr Potter,” noted Kingsley as he passed. “You’ll make a damn good Auror one day…” Blushing, Harry smiled at the praise.

At that moment the bell rang to signal lunch. “Before you all leave,” called Kingsley, “for your homework I would like you all to practice the Latesco charm. That is all.”

As everyone headed towards the Great Hall, Neville came running up. “Hiya Harry!” he called breathlessly. “That lesson just reminded me; are you running the DA this year?”

Pleased that Neville obviously seemed keen about the idea, Harry promised to ask Professor McGonagall that evening.

“Hi Neville,” Ron said. “I forgot to ask you earlier, how did your exams go?”

“Not so bad thanks, Ron. I even got an O!”

“Brilliant! What was that in?”

“Defence Against the Dark Arts. My Gran was really impressed, it made up for my P in Potions and my D in Divination.”

Both Ron and Harry burst out laughing but stopped seeing the embarrassed look on Neville’s face. “Sorry, we’re not laughing at you Neville,” apologised Ron. “It’s just me and Harry failed Divination as well. We both got Ds too!” Laughing again, they made their way to the Great Hall for lunch.

*~*~*~*


Harry felt a growing sense of anger and trepidation with each step he took towards the dungeons. Only Hermione came with him since both Neville and Ron had opted for Care of Magical Creatures. When Harry walked into the classroom, he was surprised to see only two Ravenclaws, one Hufflepuff and around four Slytherins. As he sat down, Snape appeared out of the shadows, as usual wearing robes of black.

“The only reason you are here is because you have all received an O in your exams last year; although for some of you that must have been more by luck than any skills you possess…”

Harry braced himself for Snape’s glare but it never came; instead it was directed at the two Ravenclaws and the terrified looking Hufflepuff.

“This year,” Snape continued, “I expect higher standards than in your previous years although showing off is not permitted in this class,” he added, shooting a glare at Hermione who recoiled slightly next to Harry. “Follow the instructions on the board to the letter. If you follow them carefully, you should have produced an invisibility potion by the end of the lesson. If, which I sincerely doubt, you are able to produce the potion, it should turn a clear purple colour with sparks on the surface. Start now.”

Harry wasn’t concentrating. Instead, he was filled with anger at Snape. Why didn’t you tell me about Sirius last year? he thought. You just could have acknowledged that you understood my message, and then Sirius would be here now…

“Blaming me, Potter?” Snape asked quietly. Harry jumped. Snape was on the other side of the room reading an essay; he wasn’t even looking at him. “If you are, I do not blame you.”

“You’re the reason he’s dead, and the reason Tonks and Moody were injured. Not to mention Ron and Hermione, and Ginny, and Lun “”

“Determined to blame yourself, aren’t you Potter. At the moment, you feel that if you blame me you can avoid blaming yourself. And, in answer to your question, I’m talking to you now using an obscure branch of Legilimency.”

Harry jumped again. Snape was still reading the essay at the front of the classroom and Harry hadn’t even asked how he was talking to him. Snape’s words had struck a little too close to the truth though, and Harry turned away from him and began on the potion.

The rest of the lesson passed in silence, except when Hermione pointed out that he’d only added one billywig sting instead of three and Snape, using Legilimency again, told him to reread line six if he didn’t want his potion to come out a congealed mess.

At the end of the lesson, Harry glanced down at his potion and was relatively surprised. Admittedly, his potion didn’t have quite as many sparks on the surface as Hermione’s but it was a clear purple colour. Harry had done his best to keep his mind blank except for the instructions to brew the potion and, with the help of Snape, he’d got a decent result. No, he corrected himself, I got a good result with the help of Hermione.

Snape, who had just been writing the homework up, turned around and Harry caught the trace of a grim smile as Snape’s black, shadowed eyes locked for a second with his own. Again, Harry turned away from the Potions master and desperately tried to ignore the fact Snape was being nice to him.

“Your potions should now be complete, so could you all put a sample into these flasks and bring them to me. Trinter, I do not want a sample of yours as it will probably shatter the glass.”

Hermione shot an amazed look at Harry. Trinter was a Slytherin and Snape was being horrible to him. “Not taken any points away though, has he?” Harry added quietly.

“Even so, it’s still an improvement. And he wasn’t horrible to you today, even though you were daydreaming at the start of the lesson. I suppose that’s only because Snape was reading that essay and didn’t notice. Mind you, he did take a long time to over it. I watched him a couple of times and his eyes weren’t moving. He did seem to be concentrating really hard though…”

Harry just grunted. Walking up to Snape’s desk, he placed his and Hermione’s samples on the table and turned round, trying to ignore Snape’s eyes on his back. A few seconds later the bell rang to signal the end of the lesson and Harry bolted from the dungeon.

*~*~*~*


“How’d it go with Snape, Harry?” Ron asked, looking up from his pork chop as Harry came to sit shakily down next to him. “Not good?”

Harry didn’t answer, he just stared blankly in front of himself and he didn’t appear to have heard what Ron had said.

“Harry?”

“Don’t worry about him Ron, he’s just suffered a massive shock,” Hermione said, walking up behind them. “He’s just gone through an entire Potions class and not lost any points or got a detention.”

Ron burst out laughing and Harry whipped round to glare at him. “Think it’s funny, do you? Since Sirius died because of m…Snape.” Harry blushed; he’d nearly said ‘me’.

“Sorry, mate,” gasped Ron instantly. “I didn’t mean it to come out like that…”

“Look, I’ve got to go and see McGonagall about the DA. See if we can reinstate it this year. I’ll see you guys later.” Standing up, Harry walked out of the hall leaving the food on his plate uneaten.

“What the bloody hell was that all about?” Ron questioned, looking at Hermione.

“Beats me,” she answered. “It’s just hard for him, you know, being back here after Sirius died. Being with Snape again…”

“Well, I just hope he snaps out of it soon,” Ron muttered, while Hermione nodded in agreement at his side.

*~*~*~*


“Professor?”

“Come in,” answered Professor McGonagall without looking up. “I’ll be with you in a second…” Harry sat down, still feeling confused and upset over Potions. “Right then, Mr Potter; what was it that you wanted with me?”

“I was wondering whether it would be ok to reinstate the DA this year. There do seem to be quite a lot of people who want it to continue but I thought I’d just check first.” Harry tailed off, looking hopefully at McGonagall.

“Certainly, I was hoping it would continue. You certainly seemed to have trained them well; every member who took the O.W.L exam last year received an ‘O’ and that certainly was not thanks to the Ministry employed teacher…” Harry grinned, partly with pride and partly with embarrassment.

Professor McGonagall looked at him strangely. “Is everything all right, Potter?”

“What? I mean yes. Yes. Everything’s fine. Sure. Umm, I’ve got to go and, umm…” Harry was babbling and he realised he was digging himself into a rather large hole very, very quickly. “…Umm, go and see…um…you know…”

“Miss Granger and Mr Weasley?” Professor McGonagall supplied gently.

“Yeah. I’ve got to finish my Charms homework. Thanks for letting me start the DA again Professor.”

Professor McGonagall watched as Harry nearly ran from her office. “No problem, Potter,” she called after him.

That’s odd, she thought, Harry didn’t even have Charms today. I should know, since I wrote the timetables…

Slightly concerned, she turned back to her marking, consciously deciding as she did so that it was not something worth mentioning to Dumbledore yet. After all, Harry would explain everything when he was ready.









A/N : Thanks to everyone has reviewed - it really does help me to keep writing!

Lol, I hope you aren't getting bored of Latin yet but if you are interested, Latesco literally means 'To hide oneself'.

Please review... you know you want to!!!
Not a Threat, But a Promise by Stormy
At breakfast the next morning Harry had recovered sufficiently from Potions to return to his normal self. He was especially glad when a barn owl flew down on to the water jug and held his leg out. Pulling off the envelope; Harry reached over to the owl and fed it a piece of sausage and his heart leapt as he recognised Lupin’s handwriting.

Dear Harry,

How’s it going? I hope you had a good first day back and that you aren’t too snowed under with homework! If you are, I hope it’s all easy but if it’s really hard and you can’t do it, you could always try asking Hermione. Please don’t tell her I said that.

Anyway, I hope things are all good with you. I’m fine, and so is everyone else.

Please, just remember to keep your head down and stay out of trouble. What goes on outside the walls of Hogwarts is neither you fault nor you responsibility.

I hope to see you soon and please give my regards to Ron and Hermione,

Be careful,
Remus

Harry smiled “ it was good to know everyone in the Order was ok and he, too, hoped that he would get to see Lupin again soon.

Ron and Hermione wandered in to the Great Hall together, Harry smiled as he saw them and they made a beeline for the chairs either side of him.

“Morning, Harry,” Hermione smiled. “Double Charms, a free, then double Defence Against the Dark Arts. Quite a good day, really.”

“Yeah, especially after yesterday,” Harry added. Ron and Hermione exchanged quick glances but decided to let Harry’s comment go.

“So Harry, did you hear Katie is the new team captain?” Ron asked, desperate to change the conversation topic. “With you back as seeker there’s no way we’re going to lose the cup this year. And, if I can play like I did in the last game of the year a couple of months ago, maybe we’ll do ok.”

“Who’s that?” Hermione cut in.

“Huh?”

“That owl “ whose is it?

A small, iron grey owl had fluttered down near Harry’s left hand and was staring expectantly at him, a slightly grubby note in its beak. Reaching out, Harry took the note off the owl and it took off instantly. Curiously, Harry unfolded the paper, read the message and opened his eyes wide in surprise before passing it to Ron and Hermione.

Leaning forwards, the others read the note.

Meet me at 9 o’clock at the Three Broomsticks. This morning. It’s really important. I really need some help. Please come on your own but bring your friends if you must. Tell no one you are coming, especially none of the teachers. See you soon,
Love,
Charlie

“Your brother?” Harry whispered.

“No…” Ron answered slowly. “That’s not his handwriting…”

“Tell someone Harry,” hissed Hermione. “Kingsley, Dumbledore, Snape, anyone!”

“But if it is Charlie, I don’t want to drop him in whatever it is he’s afraid of…”

“Harry,” Hermione interrupted. “Don’t go down the route of your ‘saving people thing’ again. If you must go, tell someone like McGonagall first. Please Harry, be sensible,” she implored.

“All right,” Harry relented. “You coming?”

“Too right,” Ron answered. “And if it is Charlie…” he tailed off. Together, they stood up and walked over towards the staff table where Professors McGonagall, Snape and Flitwick were eating breakfast. “Er, Professor? Could we have a word with you, umm, like, now?”

“Certainly Potter,” Professor McGonagall answered. “Here or in my office…?”

“In your office,” Ron and Hermione answered together.

Looking to her left, McGonagall exchanged raised eyebrows with Snape, stood up, and walked out of the hall, Harry, Ron and Hermione following. Snape watched them go, a slight frown creasing his brow.

“Right then Potter, Weasley, Granger. What did you want?”

“It’s this, Professor. I was sent it at breakfast.” Harry passed the note over to her and he wasn’t surprised to see Professor McGonagall’s reaction was almost identical to his own.

“Stay here, all of you,” she said quickly. “I need to get to the bottom of this…” she added as she walked out the door.

Harry, Ron and Hermione sat down and waited for Professor McGonagall to return. After a few minutes, Professor McGonagall’s magically magnified voice echoed throughout the school.

“UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES IS ANYONE TO LEAVE THE CASTLE TO GO INTO THE GROUNDS. CARE OF MAGICAL CREATURES AND FLYING LESSONS HAVE BEEN CANCELLED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE. STUDENTS WITH THOSE LESSONS SHOULD GO TO THE GREAT HALL.

“PREFECTS, PLEASE ENSURE THAT NO ONE LEAVES THE CASTLE AND REPORT TO THE GREAT HALL IMMEDIATELY. EVERYONE ELSE, PLEASE ATTEND NORMAL LESSONS UNLESS YOU HAVE SPECICALLY BEEN TOLD OTHERWISE BY A MEMBER OF STAFF. AS LONG AS YOU STAY WITHIN THE CASTLE WALLS NO HARM CAN BEFALL ON YOU.”

Harry sat in stunned silence. Hermione and Ron stood up. “Harry, stay here. We’re both Prefects so we’ve got to go to the Great Hall. You’ve got to stay here, like Professor McGonagall told you.” Hermione added.

“I’ll stay,” Harry said. “Go on “ and tell me as soon as you can what’s going on.”

“Sure mate. As soon as we know,” Ron answered as he left with Hermione.

*~*~*~*


Professor McGonagall strode quickly towards Dumbledore’s office. She didn’t want to think about what this letter was going to lead to; she’d leave the sorting out to Dumbledore.

“Liquorice Wand” she muttered as she approached the stone gargoyle. Walking up the moving staircase she pushed open the varnished door without bothering to knock. Dumbledore looked up instantly, clearly somewhat surprised at his deputy’s abrupt entrance.

“Good morning Minerva. It is rather unlike you to come wandering up here this early. Haven’t you got Transfiguration with the third yea-?”

“Dumbledore, Harry was sent this during breakfast. Supposedly from Charlie Weasley.”

Dumbledore, looking slightly confused, reached over and took the note from her shaking hand. After a few seconds he stood up and pulled out his wand. Muttering “Aldulterinus”, Dumbledore waited for a few seconds until, inexplicably, the words on the paper turned red and the strong, acrid smell of burning plastic came from the ink. Dumbledore turned to Minerva McGonagall seemingly calm and relaxed.

“Minerva, I must ask you to issue an order to the whole school that no one is allowed to leave the castle. Leave the prefects in charge. I trust you told Harry not to go?”

“Of course,” she answered. “Anything else?”

“Yes, find Kingsley Shacklebolt and meet me in the entrance hall in three minutes. I have something I must do first.”

After a quick, curt nod, she walked out of the office and left Dumbledore alone.

*~*~*~*


Snape was sitting in his office reading a second year Potions assignment when Fawkes appeared holding a letter. Knowing it had something to do with the note Harry had received only a few minutes ago, he accepted it quickly and Fawkes disappeared in a flash of flame. The first thing he noticed, however, was the letter had clearly been written in a hurry. Wasting no time himself, he ripped open the parchment envelope and scan read the message.

Severus,

I will give you full details later but please can you go to Minerva’s office immediately. Harry should be there, but if he is not then please inform me at once and do your best to find him quickly.

Assuming he is there, please can you tell him to tell me / another Order member, if his scar hurts. Show him how to contact me if he needs to.

AD

Abandoning the essay, Snape left his dungeon office and headed towards the third floor.

*~*~*~*


Harry sat in the Transfiguration office restlessly moving in his chair. When is someone going to come and tell me what the hell is going on? he thought. Glancing out of the window he saw, unmistakeably, Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall and Kingsley Shacklebolt heading towards the entrance into Hogsmeade. Why must I always be left in the dark? No sooner had he thought this, he stood up and began to move towards the door. It opened when he was at least four strides away from it.

“Going somewhere, Potter?”

Harry felt a burning anger well up inside himself. Great, just who I wanted to see now. Snape looked down at him, a slight sneer playing on his lips. “Sit down before I have to force you.”

Knowing Snape was more than willing to curse him into outer space, Harry obeyed grudgingly.

“Good to see you following orders at last Potter.”

“What do you want?”

“Manners, Potter,” Snape answered silkily. “I was told to come here by the Headmaster to ensure you didn’t do what you were just about to.”

“Well, what did he want?” Harry shot back.

“It seems the letter you were sent at breakfast has some significance so the Headmaster requested that I came here to pass on a message from him to you. No doubt, though, that since you already assume that…”

“Get on with it,” Harry spat.

Snape’s eyes flashed.

“The Headmaster told me to inform you that if your scar hurts please inform a member of the Order or, if possible, Professor Dumbledore himself, as soon as possible.”

“Is that it?”

“He also asked me to tell you,” Snape continued, “that if, for whatever reason, you are unable to see him in person, you are to use the method of communication used by the Order.”

“Which is…?”

Snape closed his eyes for a second and drew out his wand. “I have heard rumours you can conjure a Patronus, correct?”

“Yes,” Harry answered, eyeing Snape’s wand with trepidation.

“The principle is very similar. Concentrate very hard on the person you want to contact and, in your head, also on the message you want that person to receive. There is no incantation for the Patronuntrius, what the messenger is called, except, if performed correctly, it will take the form of your Patronus.” With that, Snape closed his eyes for a few seconds and a thin, wraithlike wisp escaped his wand. The distance between Snape and Harry was too small for him to gage what animal Snape’s Patronuntrius was but when it reached him Harry heard Snape’s voice clearly.

“The message is impossible to interpret except by the person the message is intended for. You try. Direct your own Patronuntrius to me with the answer to this question : What are the two main ingredients of Polyjuice Potion?”

Harry closed his eyes and focused on Snape. As he remembered the answer, his Stag leapt from the end of his wand and reached Snape in a split second. Snape nodded to him and without saying anything to Harry, raised his own wand again and pointed it to the door. His wraith like Patronus shot out of his wand and disappeared out into the grounds.

Harry just sat there in silence, staring at Snape. This is the second civilised conversation I’ve had with you in as many days. How much longer is it going to last?

Snape didn’t say anything and just stared expectantly out of the window. After around two minutes, a look of relief flashed across his face until his usual frown returned. A few seconds later, a silvery phoenix flew into the room and came to rest on the desk. Dumbledore’s voice sounded clearly in the confined office, and both Harry and Snape listened intently.

“Severus, Harry,

Two Death Eaters were in the Three Broomsticks both of whom however, Disapparated before Minerva, Kingsley or myself could stun them. Two passing wizards have fallen after the Death Eaters realised that you were not there. We all will be coming up to school as soon as we can so please could you go to the Great Hall and tell the students to return to their lessons. Keep details to a minimum.

Listen to me Harry; you must make sure that you do not leave the castle, no matter what the reason. That letter was a fake. Charlie Weasley is currently at headquarters. He has not sent any letters at all in the last nine days. Do not let Voldemort trick you again like he did last June. Never forget Sirius, or the reason he died. If Voldemort can, he will try the same trick again. Use the Clamcelo if you need to.

Never forget…”

Harry sat there, frozen, as the silvery phoenix faded into nothing. Snape was staring at him. “Message to you from Dumbledore, that last bit, was it?”

“What” Harry answered, not looking away from where the Patronuntrius had been only seconds before. “Couldn’t you understand what Dumbledore said or something?”

Snape rolled his eyes as he stood up. “Does anything ever penetrate your thick skull Potter? Or hasn’t it occurred to you that Dumbledore wanted you, and only you, to understand the last bit of that message?”

Harry just stared back into Snape’s cold, unfeeling eyes. “I’ll take that as a no, then,” Snape breathed. “Go to the Great Hall, Potter. I am sure Weasley and Granger want a full report,” he spat and walked out the door and headed downstairs.

Maybe he had mistaken it, but Harry felt sure there had been a note of hurt in Snape’s voice and a flicker of resentment burning in his dark, pitiless eyes.

*~*~*~*


The rest of the day past in a blur for everyone inside the castle. Word had spread rapidly throughout the school that two wizards had been murdered by a lone pair of Death Eaters barley five hundred yards from the gates of the castle grounds. Rumours began to spring up everywhere; the most common being that Voldemort had been there himself and was planning an assault on the school. Harry stayed quiet and Ron, Hermione and himself had all come to an unspoken agreement that they would not mention the letter to anyone.

*~*~*~*


It was the end of October, nearly two months since the attack in Hogsmeade, and life inside Hogwarts had returned to normal; well, what could be counted as normal for a school of magic. The Daily Prophet had reported several tortures on both muggles and wizards although there had been no known murders. Adrian Walsh, the missing ministry worker, still remained exactly that; missing.

To lighten the slightly oppressive, tense atmosphere which smothered the castle, Dumbledore had arranged for all lessons to be cancelled on Hallowe’en giving everyone the chance to relax and enjoy themselves. As the evening approached, Harry began to relax and feel truly happy. He was also immensely pleased when Fred and George, in the dead of night, sent two screech owls with a box loaded with tricks for him to share with Ron. The only thing Harry did do though, was he withheld the Spider Snaps to use on his best friend. He assumed the results would be interesting.

When Hallowe’en did finally come around, many of the students were playing tricks on each other or just generally having a good time with friends. Everyone was relatively rowdy although only one person actually ended up in the hospital wing; and that was only because they had accidentally vanished their left arm when they had held their wand the wrong way round.

The Spider Snaps had worked a treat. Harry had placed them at the end of Ron’s bed while he was asleep and Ron woke up to find a large, hairy arachnid sitting on his feet, staring at him through eight, milky eyes. Ron screamed and aimed a misjudged kick at it. As soon as his foot made contact, there was an almighty bang, similar to that of a firecracker, and the spider disappeared in a wisp of smoke. Ron fell out of bed and sat there stupefied for nearly five minutes; Harry had been timing.

That evening, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny and Neville made their way down to the Great Hall for the Hallowe’en feast. Swarms of bats flew over the tables and vast pumpkins, intricately carved, stood all along each table. Every six feet or so, bright orange flames touching ten feet high flickered brilliantly, illuminating the Hall in place of the usual candlelight. Every few seconds, a bat would rise up out of the flame, fly once around the Hall and then fade into nothingness as it passed back into the flame. Ginny watched them, mesmerised. Harry’s stomach jolted “ he’d only seen expression Ginny wore now once before in his life, and that was in the Department of Mysteries when a jewel bright bird had flown around inside a bell jar of glistening wind.

The feast was magnificent. Everything came in the shape of bats, or brooms, or witches hats and the house-elves had excelled themselves with the variety and quantity of food offered. As the feast wore on, the conversations began to drift into silence as everyone began to feel tired. Harry sat there quietly thinking about the upcoming Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw game. Never did his thoughts drift towards what was taking place outside the safety of Hogwarts castle.

At around quarter to midnight, everyone began to make their way back up to their dormitories. After saying good night to Hermione and Ginny, Harry crawled into his bed and fell asleep knowing, as he shut his eyes, that he was the last boy awake in the Gryffindor dormitory.

*~*~*~*


He was flying over the rooftops of houses and roads. Several times he saw landmarks he recognised: St Paul’s Cathedral, the Houses of Parliament, Buckingham Palace and, most importantly, a deserted telephone box which had a phone that appeared to be broken. Not a soul was moving in London except a few cabdrivers and night shift workers. He smiled and swept upwards until he could see the South Bank of the River Thames clearly. He waited silently.

The clear sound of Big Ben echoed through the night. During each silence between the separate chimes, a green flash of light lit up the sky.

There were twelve chimes.

Smiling at his accomplishment, he Disapparated, a manic laugh rising in his throat.

*~*~*~*


“Harry!” someone was slapping him in the face. “Harry!”

Harry sat up and saw Ron kneeling next to him, a look of terror on his face. “Harry, what happened? Is it to do with You-Know-Who?”

A slight frown darkened Harry’s features. “I don’t know, Ron,” Harry answered. “My scar is burning a bit at the moment but not as bad as it sometimes is.”

Ron looked at him in relief. “Oh, I thought it was something terrible. I needed to go to the loo and I heard you moaning in your sleep so I thought I’d better wake you up. You know “ just in case…”

Harry smiled. “I can’t remember what I was dreaming about, Ron. Don’t be so paranoid. I’m sure nothing was happening…”

Ron grinned at him. “So you’re ok then. Just checking. See you in the morning.”

Harry smiled, slightly embarrassed that Ron was so clearly concerned about him. Unworriedly, Harry turned over and fell into a dreamless sleep.

His scar began to burn again although not so much as to wake him up.

*~*~*~*


The next morning, Harry, Ron and Hermione headed down towards the Great Hall for breakfast. The corridors were deserted, most students enjoying a lie in after the previous night. Talking unconcernedly, all three of them were surprised when Kingsley walked into them, a fearful look on his face. “Harry, I was just coming to find you. I wanted you to find out from a member of the Order and not just another student…” He handed a copy of the Daily Prophet over to Harry who froze at the headline.

47 DEAD IN TWELVE SEPARATE ATTACKS IN LONDON

Last night, 43 muggles and 4 members of the magical community were killed in twelve separate attacks on the South Bank side of the River Thames at midnight. It is believed that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his band of followers, who call themselves Death Eaters, were behind the attacks. So far, no Death Eaters have been caught who had a direct link to the attacks although Ministry Aurors are currently dealing with the situation. Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic, will be making a statement later today at…

Harry had read enough. Glancing over at Hermione, he could see tears falling silently down her cheeks. When he looked at Ron however, he was unnerved to see that Ron was staring intently at Harry, his face ghostly white and his eyes wide in realisation.

“Harry,” Ron whispered. “Last night!”

Harry felt a chill in his stomach as he remembered the night before.

“We knew!” he breathed as his eyes met Ron’s. Tearing his gaze from Ron’s face, Harry walked straight past Kingsley, the Daily Prophet falling from his hand as he did so. He headed for a stone gargoyle on the fifth floor. Ron and Hermione followed him; Kingsley just watched them go and picked up the paper Harry had dropped with a slightly shaking hand.

*~*~*~*


The same owl that had delivered the letter supposedly from Charlie met Harry before he could reach Dumbledore’s office. It dropped a folded piece of parchment in his hands before it sped out of the window. Automatically, Harry unfolded the paper and froze at the letter.

WE GO FOR MANCHESTER NEXT

Panicking, Harry bolted towards the gargoyle, pausing only when he got there and tried to guess the password.

“Er, Sugar Quill, Sherbet Fountain, Acid bomb, Exploding Bonbons…” Harry reeled off in rapid succession. “…Apple Fizzers, Blackjacks, Chocolate Mice, Honeydukes Best…”

Ron snorted. “Wouldn’t it be good if Dumbledore had chosen to use ‘Skiving Snackboxes’…”

The statue leapt aside and revealed the moving staircase. Grinning in a strained way at Ron, Harry led the way up the staircase and paused to knock at the broad oaken door with the Griffin shaped handle.

*~*~*~*


“… and so last night Ron woke me up and told me I was, um, moaning in my sleep.” Harry blushed slightly and fell silent. Ron and Hermione stood either side of him while Dumbledore sat behind his desk and watched Harry carefully.

“Anything else you want to tell me?” Dumbledore enquired gently.

Ron and Hermione jumped in amazement. It was almost as if Dumbledore had known about the letter but wanted to see if Harry would tell him directly. Harry just stared in silence at his aged headmaster. Hermione nudged him in the back and muttered “Go on!”

Harry hesitated again although he wasn’t sure why he was doing so. Dumbledore acted as though he hadn’t heard Hermione’s comment and continued to watch Harry through his half moon spectacles. Harry slowly unclenched his fist and held out his hand with the letter in it. He handed it to Dumbledore wordlessly. There was nothing for him to say “ Dumbledore knew already.

“Ah, yes,” Dumbledore sighed as he read the note. “I received one this morning as well except mine was a bit more smudged…”

Harry, Ron and Hermione stood gaping at Dumbledore in shock. How could he be taking all this so calmly? Dumbledore smiled slightly at the looks of horror on their young faces and answered their unasked question.

“Well, I am afraid to say I am not overly surprised; I will not pretend that I had not suspected that something like this would occur at some point in the near future. Voldemort has used today as a jest; as an indication of what he could, and would, do to enforce his growing power on the Wizarding world. This is not a threat; it is a promise.

“The three of you, you must stay together at all times. All of you will be obvious targets so look out for each other,” Dumbledore looked seriously at them over his half moon glasses. “Especially you, Harry. If you receive any more letters like this, please inform a member of the Order immediately. You are on your own now, there is little more I can do to stop this war.

“However, as from tomorrow, please will you come to my office every Tuesday and Thursday during your free lessons. Tell no one you are coming, and that includes all the Professors, as well as the students. Use the Invisibility Cloak if you need to so you can get here unnoticed. Miss Granger, Mr Weasley, please also hold your silence and draw as little attention to Harry’s disappearances as possible. If anyone asks where he is, inform them he is in Remedial Potions,” Dumbledore added with the slightest trace of a smile.

Harry grinned awkwardly, and turned to go. Hermione and Ron reached the door first but Dumbledore’s parting words made them freeze in sudden horror and realisation.

“On a more serious note, though, just remember that we are facing very dark and difficult times. The numbers of Death Eaters are growing daily. The war has started at last.”









A/N: My longest chapter yet! I hope you liked it “ it’s one of my favourite chapters.

Oh, and for any keen Latin speaking people out there, ‘Aldulterinus’ means ‘Not Genuine’

Thanks for reading and let me know your opinions please. Hint, hint….lol!
Unwanted Power by Stormy
“Today, we are going to be moving onto a development of the Shield charm you all learnt in your fifth year. The Aegisidol hex is a charm designed for the deflection of major curses and is performed with the incantation ‘Aegisidis’. I would like you all to divide up into pairs to practice once I have taken the register.”

Kingsley glanced round at them all and began to call out their names. Harry and Ron exchanged slightly apprehensive glances at their Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor’s words. Recently, Kingsley had given them no let up with regards to learning new spells. Their homework was always practical which was a relief to everyone except Hermione. When she had complained however, Kingsley came back with the most cutting answer Harry had ever heard a teacher give.

“Miss Granger, imagine that the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters walked into this classroom right now. You are well aware they are attempting to kill you. Are you going to pull out your quill and write them a two thousand word essay on how to resist the Imperius curse or are you going to fight back with every spell you can think of?”

Hermione had never challenged Kingsley again, especially as the sniggers which had come as a result didn’t die down for at least a month. Everyone divided up and Harry chose to work with Neville who had grown in confidence about his own abilities since last June.

“Go on Neville, you go first.”

Neville, a look of determination crossing his face, pulled out his wand and clearly said “Aegisidis”. A small spark of yellow emitted from his wand although when Harry directed a well placed tickling charm at him, the shield’s protection caved in. Quickly, Harry muttered the counter curse and Neville stopped laughing.

“Oh well, I guess I need more practice,” said Neville sadly. “Hey, maybe you could do a session in the DA for this. I bet it’d be useful…” he added, brightening up.

Harry laughed. “I better find out if I can do it first. I can’t teach something I can’t do myself!” Flicking his wand, Harry called the incantation and a flash of yellow erupted from his wand. Neville yelled ‘Expelliarmus!” and the spell bounced harmlessly off Harry’s invisible shield. Hermione, who had been watching with interest, knew her own spells would be stronger than Neville’s so she also tried to break Harry’s defence. Like Neville’s, her curse just bounced off harmlessly into the wall.

Kingsley, who had been watching Harry with a closed expression on his dark face, drew out his wand as Neville’s and Hermione’s second spells just dissolved into nothing as they hit Harry’s defensive cover at the same time.

Everyone in the class turned to watch with interest as Kingsley, who had looked very surprised that Harry’s shield had deflected the curses easily, raised his own wand and clearly intended to attempt to break Harry’s shield himself. Everyone’s interest turned to a stunned horror as Kingsley drew his own wand up to shoulder height and shouted “Crucio!”

Total silence enshrouded the room as the jet of red light flew towards Harry. Time seemed to slow down as it got closer to him and, when it struck Harry’s shield, the red light scattered all around the room in a million shards. Harry was left standing, unharmed thanks to his shield, looking fearfully at Kingsley. As soon as the spell hit the shield, Kingsley had pulled his wand away from the direction of Harry instantly.

“Professor, that’s illegal,” Harry stated bluntly, clearly wrong footed by the Ministry Auror. “That’s an Unforgivable…”

Kingsley shrugged his shoulders and appeared to blank out the rest of the class. “I wanted to see how strong your shield was. There’s no use for it if it can only withstand children’s magic. The Cruciatus curse is the strongest deflectable curse that is known to wizard kind. Although Avada Kedavra is stronger, it is unstoppable. Incidentally, I raised my wand the instant I cast it so, even if it had hit you, it would only have been able to knock you to the floor.”

Harry lowered his wand and accepted Kingsley’s explanation without comment. Very slowly, the class fell back into practicing the shield charm and Harry, unhurt from Kingsley’s attack, continued to help Neville.

At the end of the lesson, Kingsley unsurprisingly asked them to practice the spell for homework. As the bell rang, everyone left the classroom although many glanced back to see if Kingsley was going to hex them between their seat and the door. Harry, ignoring the stares of his class mates, picked up his bag and headed out of the room.

“Harry Potter, a word please.”

Hermione, looking fearful, lowered her voice as Harry turned around. “Harry, be careful. He could be a Death Eater in disguise.”

Harry shrugged and answered quietly. “I’ll be alright. Don’t worry,”

With a final glance, Hermione shut the door leaving Harry and Kingsley alone.

“How do I know you aren’t a Death Eater?” Harry asked directly. “That Cruciatus curse was a genuine one…”

Kingsley sighed and looked at Harry. “I can prove I’m not a Death Eater, Harry,” he said quietly. “Look at my arm.” He pulled up his sleeve and Harry clearly saw no trace of the Dark Mark.

“In that case, why did you want to try and torture me?”

“I didn’t,” Kingsley answered honestly. “It was just your shield was the most powerful one I’ve ever seen in my life. I wanted to make sure that it would be able to deflect two of the Unforgivables. Since the Cruciatus is the strongest, I used that one. Was that the first attempt you had at the charm?”

“Yes,” Harry responded slowly. “Why?”

“Because I wondered if you’d had any practice previously. The strength of your shield is astounding, one that even a top Auror would be proud of. Anyway, since you can do the hex so well, I wanted you to know this one too.” Kingsley drew out his wand and flicked the end in Harry’s direction. “Contego!”

Harry felt a shield surround him, identical to the one he himself had cast a few minutes earlier. Kingsley raised his wand. “You see, the Contego charm acts the same as the Aegisidol hex except it protects someone else instead of just the caster. It’s an Auror level spell but since you have a knack of getting other people into a bit of a mess…” he tailed off. “I thought it would give you peace of mind if nothing else, in case anything like last summer happens again.”

Unable to speak, Harry nodded his head in appreciation and left the classroom to find Ron and Hermione.

*~*~*~*


Harry walked aimlessly towards Gryffindor Tower, thinking of what Kingsley had said to him. Yes, he thought, I do seem to have a bit of a knack at getting a lot of people into trouble. But at least I might be able to protect them now…

When Hermione caught sight of Harry, she rushed over and threw her arms around his neck. “Harry! Ron and I were so worried. I was just about to tell Professor McGonagall to find out what was going on. Just in case Kingsley was, you know…”

“A Death Eater?” Harry finished. “And he’s not “ he showed me his arm and it didn’t have the Dark Mark on it.”

“But he could be using Polyjuice Potion.”

Harry paled visibly. Raising his wand he muttered “Accio Map” and the Marauders Map soared towards him from his dormitory.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” Harry muttered before unfolding the map. After several minutes of searching, neither Harry, Ron nor Hermione could spot Kingsley’s name.

“Ha!” Ron said in triumph. “I knew he’d be a fake…”

“Unless you count that person there,” Harry said, pointing to the bottom left hand corner of the map. A small dot, clearly labelled ‘Kingsley Shacklebolt’ was moving back up towards the castle. “The Marauder’s Map never lies,” Harry added, echoing Remus Lupin. “That is the real Kingsley Shacklebolt, not anyone impersonating him. Anyway, I’ve got to go to Remedial Potions.”

“Oh, I’d forgotten,” Hermione said quickly. “Good luck.”

“You’re getting as bad as Hermione,” Ron muttered in an undertone. “You know everything too…”

*~*~*~*


“Ah yes, come in Harry,” Dumbledore called after Harry had knocked at the office door. Harry walked in and smiled awkwardly at Dumbledore, Occlumency never was very high up his enjoyment list. Even so, this has to be better than with Snape…he thought.

Dumbledore smiled very slightly and Harry felt a relatively small amount of force pressing against him. For some reason, Harry remembered the conversation he’d had with Kingsley a few moments earlier. Slightly confused, Harry then remembered Professor McGonagall handing out the timetables on the first day. Slowly, it dawned on him that Dumbledore was using Legilimency and he was forcing Harry to remember these relatively random memories.

So much for a warning
, Harry thought, as he collected himself together and prepared to fight back.

After around five minutes, Harry began to feel tired and, to his great relief, Dumbledore realised this and lifted the charm instantly.

“Well done, Harry. Sorry about the lack of warning, I wanted to see how you would react without notice. You were stronger and quicker on the uptake than I was expecting,” Dumbledore smiled as Harry blushed slightly at the praise. “Are you ok to have another go?”

“Ummmm, I think so,” Harry answered. “I just seem to get really tired after I’ve done it.”

“That is easy enough to sort out. Drink this.” Dumbledore reached down and pulled out a small vial of light blue liquid. Harry took it hesitantly and swallowed it. To his great surprise, it tasted very slightly of orange and was relatively sweet. Instantly, Harry felt himself feeling refreshed and relaxed.

“Good potion,” Dumbledore muttered more to himself than to Harry. “Professor Snape really is the most excellent Potions Master. It’s just a shame I have to alter the taste, otherwise it is undrinkable…”

Harry grinned and, as he did so, he felt a slightly odd sensation in his stomach, almost like there was something inside him. Assuming it was just after effects of the potion, Harry ignored it. “Ready then, Harry? Three…Two…One…Legilimens!

This time, Harry felt a new level of power building inside himself. When Dumbledore raised his wand and muttered ‘Legilimens’, he again felt himself put up a shield although it was done automatically this time. The shield was also stronger; far, far stronger than what Harry usually produced and for the first time, Harry felt Dumbledore waver. Instantly though, Dumbledore’s attack on him grew stronger as well. It was like an invisible, unyielding force pressing down on his brain. Again, before Dumbledore broke fully into his mind, Harry felt his own Occlumency shield increase tenfold in strength. If possible, Dumbledore’s attack appeared to get even more intense.

Inside himself, Harry felt a surge of hatred shoot through his body and, at last, he managed to block Dumbledore completely. Dumbledore staggered as his own spell was thrown back at him and Harry’s brain filled with memories and thoughts which weren’t his.

A small boy with auburn hair sat at a desk reading a heavy text book.

A taller wizard stood in front of a cauldron quietly stirring a shimmering blue potion.

Dumbledore was casting a spell at Lily and James, Sirius standing beside them.

Dumbledore standing in his office with Harry the night Sirius died, prodding the Pensive with the tip of his wand…

All of a sudden, Harry found that he couldn’t finish the rest of the memory and instead he was pulled away from it, forced instead to watch another of Dumbledore’s thoughts.

A younger Dumbledore fighting another wizard who shot the killing curse at him.

Dumbledore raising his wand, pointing it at Harry as he walked out of the Great Hall, and muttering ‘Trackus Consequor’.

At last, Harry found that he was no longer looking into Dumbledore’s mind and instead was staring into his white, unnerved face. Dumbledore didn’t say anything; he just gaped at Harry in amazement.

Harry also stood there in shock. His Occlumency shield was easily the strongest he’d ever needed, or been able, to produce. Facing his Headmaster, Harry let out a strong, vehement hiss, a feeling of immeasurable anger and hatred building inside him for no reason whatsoever.

“This is how you treat me, what you think of me, isn’t it?! I never wanted to be who I am, but this is the way my life has turned out, and I’m sick of it!” Harry’s voice rose to a shout, the anger building inside him and he didn’t know why.

“I trusted you! And you’ve been tracking me every day since I came here, eavesdropping on my life! I don’t have a life I can call my own! WHAT ELSE HAVE YOU BEEN HIDING FROM ME? FROM NOW ON, YOU TELL ME EVERYTHING, OR YOU STOP INTERFERING.”

Harry lowered his voice as he felt another strong, almost irrational, surge of anger. “From now on, Dumbledore, you tell me what you and the Order are doing. I will not put my own plans into action until I’m sure of what you know,”

Dumbledore, who had looked totally confused at Harry’s outburst, froze at these words and stared intently at Harry.

“If you would tell me, I would find the information highly useful. I want to know what you are planning for…”

“Get out, Tom,” Dumbledore answered, his eyes flashing. “Get out of my office and never, ever, come back.”

Harry swung round and walked out the office. After Harry had disappeared from view, Dumbledore thought he heard him cry out in pain. Walking over to the polished oak door, Dumbledore wrenched it open and saw Harry curled up on the floor shielding his head.

“Tom?” Dumbledore asked in a cold voice. Harry looked up, confusion sweeping his face.

“What?” Harry asked, genuinely confused. “What did you just call me?”

“Are you all right, Harry?” Dumbledore asked in a much gentler tone, crouching down next to him.

“Yeah, I think so. Why wouldn “”

“Harry, what just happened?” Dumbledore asked, his voice low.

Harry frowned at the question. “I dunno. I was just coming up here to have an Occlumency lesson and we had one go, you gave me that potion, and then I found myself out here.”

“How did you get out here?”

Harry frowned, thinking back. “I have no idea,” he answered eventually, looking thoroughly confused. Dumbledore held Harry’s gaze for a few seconds before he stood up.

“All right, Harry. We’ll leave it here for today. If at any time you find you cannot remember exactly what you have been doing, please, please come and see me immediately. Excuse yourself from which ever lesson you are in, or come at any time in the night, just please, let me know as soon as you can. Use your Stag if you need to.”

With that, Dumbledore turned around and made his way back into his office. Harry, still confused, made his way downstairs to meet up with Ron and Hermione. Absentmindedly, Harry reached up to touch his prickling scar while thinking back to the slight flicker which had lit Dumbledore’s eyes a few seconds previously.

He couldn’t know that at that moment, Dumbledore was wholly appreciating what Severus Snape was putting himself through in his role as a spy against the Dark Lord’s dominions. An Occlumency shield strong enough to deflect the Legilimency powers of Lord Voldemort, even when they were directed wandlessly through a sixteen year old boy, was close to being impossible.









A/N: I hope you enjoyed that “ I found it really hard to write this chapter. Please review and let me know what you think!

‘Contego’ and ‘Aegisidis’ “ different words for shield

‘Trackus Consequor’ “ to go after / follow.

JK mentioned in Chap 37 of OOTP that Dumbledore keeps track of where Harry is all the time. The tracking spell is my reasoning behind Dumbledore’s ability to have ‘watched you [Harry] from afar’ (OOTP, Page 739, UK edition).
First Game by Stormy
It was the middle of November and the faintest trace of snow was beginning to fall on the peaks surrounding the castle. Most of the corridors and classrooms were still relatively warm although Snape’s dungeon, as always, was bitterly cold. It hadn’t taken long for everyone to start wearing their cloaks in the lesson; something which Snape had instantaneously banned. Much to everyone’s annoyance, Snape sat at his own desk wearing his cloak while smirking as the students huddled around the meagre heat produced by their cauldrons.

Ever since Hallowe’en, the Death Eaters had been moderately quiet with several reports of torturing but no known murders, either Muggle or wizard. Inside the castle, the tension which had engulfed it had finally abated. Some students, and there were many, began to believe that Voldemort had gone to ground for good. Harry, relieved that nobody else had been killed, allowed himself to be absorbed by schoolwork, Quidditch practice and the frequent DA meetings.

*~*~*~*


“Welcome back to another DA meeting. This session, I am hoping that you will begin to master the art of duelling,” Harry said as he stood on the stage in the Room of Requirement at the latest DA meeting. “Please only attempt to disarm you opponent, we don’t want anyone going away with chicken feathers or something.”

“I hadn’t thought of doing that to someone. Thanks for the idea Harry!” called a Hufflepuff third year.

Harry grinned and he looked over to them. “Well, if you ever find out what the charm is let me know. Lord Voldemort would look good with feat - ” Harry’s voice was drowned out by gasps, hisses and even a few screams. Harry, after shaking his head in disbelief, continued doggedly. “Anyway, if you could all divide up into pairs, preferably with people who are about the same level as you skill wise and you can start when I blow the whistle.”

Talk broke out as everyone at the meeting tried to find a partner who was about the same level as themselves. Ron, a faint red tinge staining his ears, looked over at Hermione and paired with her. Even Harry noticed that Hermione had a tinge of red gracing her cheeks when Ron asked her to duel with him.

“On my whistle then,” Harry shouted. “One...two…three…” As soon as the shrill whistle cut through the air, shouts and flashes shook the room as everyone attempted to disarm their opponent. Walking between the pairs, Harry observed each of the groups.

The first pair Harry came to was Neville and Seamus. Essentially, Neville was good although his notoriously poor aim meant his spells often missed Seamus, whom he had partnered. As a contrats to Neville, Seamus was quick and accurate with his spells although appeared to crack slightly under the pressure of duelling with an opponent.

The Creevey brothers, on the other hand, were erratic and unpredictable and generally only managed to make other DA members move away from them in alarm. Several of the newer DA members still seemed to be unsure as to whether the Creevey brothers even knew what magic was, let alone how to actually cast a spell.

Grinning again, Harry made his way over to Ginny who stood determinedly facing a Ravenclaw seventh year and the pair were duelling in earnest. Ginny’s lack of actual knowledge was more than made up for by her fiery personality and determination and she succeeded in disarming her opponent in a surprisingly short length of time.

Surprised, Harry shouted out “Well done Ginny. That was fantastic!” and caused her to turn a brilliant shade of crimson. Glancing around the room, Harry spent the rest of the meeting correcting everyone’s spell casting techniques and the two hour meeting passed in a remarkably short amount of time.

After the last person had left the meeting, thankfully without any feathers, Harry glanced round when he realised that Ron and Hermione hadn’t left yet. His eyes widened in shock as he saw them curled up in a hidden corner together; Ron was gently tugging his hand through Hermione’s hair and whispering something in her ear while Hermione was giggling quietly. Grinning, Harry turned around and left Ron and Hermione to enjoy a little alone time together.

*~*~*~*


Quidditch tryouts had taken place a few weeks earlier and the team consisted of only one alteration from the year before; a Chaser to replace Angelina.

Katie had become team captain and Ginny had resigned from her position as Seeker in favour of Harry. Katie had immediately put her back on the team, although this time as a Chaser. Kirke and Sloper had improved over the summer, largely due to them being stronger than they were before, and the fact they also were no longer afraid of the Bludgers was helping significantly too.

Ron was back as Keeper and the third chaser position was taken by Euan Abercrombie, a quiet, shy boy who none the less showed extraordinary talent on the Quidditch Pitch.

“Right then you lot,” Katie started, standing in front of her team in the changing rooms. “This year the Quidditch Cup is ours for sure. We should have had it last year too but due to that Umbridge woman banning our star Seeker and both the Beaters…” she tailed off, clearly thinking back to the year before. Harry blushed and squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. He had no intention of get himself a lifelong ban again.

“…so we’re going to train harder this year and let’s hope…” Harry didn’t hear the rest of Katie’s sentence; his mind drifted back to the Department of Mysteries and, as he did so, his scar seared with a sharp pain.

“Ow!”

“Harry?” Ron said. Harry was amazed to see Ron standing in front of him with dirt up one side of his robes.

“Ron,” Harry said, puzzled, “why are you covered in mud? We haven’t even practiced yet!”

Ron looked at Harry strangely. “What? When I fell off my broom. Didn’t you see?”

“Which Quidditch practice?” Harry said starting to laugh. “I can’t believe you haven’t washed you clothes since last session!”

There was no doubt about it “ Ron was looking at Harry like he’d just landed from Mars. “Harry, I fell off this session. About five minutes ago.”

Harry went white. “Oh my Go- ….”

“What?” Ron interrupted, starting to panic. “What?!” Harry looked away from Ron in horror.

“I don’t remember,” Harry whispered. “Listen to me Ron, I’m staying here. I don’t want anything to happen to…anyone. Get the first Order member you can find to come here straight away. Please, be quick!”

Ron, casting a startled look at Harry, bolted out of the door of the changing room heading back up to the castle.

Inside himself, Harry felt a strange, leaping feeling. He had a horrible feeling he knew what was coming “ Voldemort hadn’t been this happy in a long time. Pulling of his wristwatch, Harry stared determinedly at the second hand, making sure he could remember what had happened the second before.

“Harry!” a panicked voice yelled as the changing room door opened in a shower of sparks. “Harry!”

To Harry’s amazement, Remus Lupin, with Ron close on his heels, burst through the door and the former grabbed Harry by the shoulders and pulled him around to face him.

“Harry! Are you all right? Shall I get Dumbledore? What’s happened?”

“Yes… I mean no… I… what is… what are you doing here?” Harry said, confused. “I thought you were in London!”

“Yes, yes; forget about that now though. What about you?”

“I can’t remember what I’ve been doing. I think it’s because of “ Ahhh!” Harry yelped, as his scar burnt fiercely again.

“Help,” Lupin snapped at Ron, who was goggling at his best friend. Ron walked quickly over to Harry and put one of Harry’s arms over his own shoulder, slightly nervous that Lupin was seemingly angry with him. Lupin copied Ron and pulled Harry’s arm over his shoulder.

“Get him up to the castle, as quick as we can.”

Just as Ron and Lupin pulled Harry out of the changing rooms, Harry’s scar burnt savagely and he fell forwards onto the grass out of Ron’s and Lupin’s grasp. On all fours, Harry felt another surge of happiness surge through him and he retched. Lupin pulled Harry upright and forcibly dragged him up to the castle as Ron ran on ahead. As soon as Harry reached the castle, largely due to Lupin’s insistent pulling, he felt himself get weaker as if the emotional driving force behind him was being reduced. In his last few seconds of conscious thought, Harry managed to gasp out five words.

“Dumbledore… Voldemort… possessed… Ask… Ginny!”

*~*~*~*


Boredom. That was Dumbledore’s official verdict. Voldemort was only practicing his possessing skills and he had done nothing other than mess around with Harry for an hour or so. The love which burnt constantly in Harry prevented Voldemort from controlling him completely although the Dark Lord, with the help of the blood he took from Harry, was able to practice for a little while.

Harry had no strong feelings running at the time Voldemort began to control Harry and Dumbledore was still convinced a direct attack could still be prevented by Harry's love. Even so, Dumbledore insisted that Harry was to practice Occlumency as much as possible and told Ron and Hermione to stay with Harry for the remainder of the day. He also asked Ginny to talk to Harry when “Harry’s ready to talk.”

Harry, who had resigned himself to Voldemort’s attack in a remarkable short space of time, acted as if nothing had happened and focused instead on Occlumency and the approaching Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw game. The others, taking Harry’s lead, refrained from mentioning what had happened and acted normally.

Lupin had returned to Grimmauld Place the following day, having only been at Hogwarts to drop off “something for the Order.” Even so, Harry was grateful to have seen him and began to look forward to the Christmas holidays when everyone would meet up again at Headquarters on Christmas Day.

A small part of himself squirmed guiltily though ; No Sirius, Harry thought. This’ll be the first Christmas without him…

*~*~*~*


The morning of the Quidditch match dawned bright and cold, a little of the wintry sunlight breaking its way through the fragile blue sky. Harry, the familiar adrenaline rush returning, waited excitedly in the changing rooms as Katie gave her pre match talk.

The only thing anyone could say about the match afterwards was that it was fast. Madam Hooch blew the whistle and every player soared into the air, Katie immediately seizing the Quaffle. Barely three minutes later, Madam Hooch’s whistle rang out as Harry raised his hand triumphantly in the air “ he now held the two fastest times for the capture of the Snitch in Hogwarts’ history.

Grinning from ear to ear, Harry made his way over to the stands where every member of Gryffindor ran forward and raised the team onto their shoulders.

That evening, the party in the Gryffindor common room lasted until well after midnight. Dobby conveniently supplied mountains of food for them all although since almost everything was in the shape of a snitch, many people seemed to lose their appetite.

At one o’clock, all the sixth year boys headed up to the dormitory for the evening, full to bursting with snacks and drinks. Ron grinned over to Harry as he pulled the hangings shut around his bed, “Great catch mate.”

Harry smiled happily in response. “Thanks, Ron. Shame I couldn’t have beaten my last record though.” Ron shook his head in disbelief.

“’Night, Harry,” he yawned.

“’Night Ron,” Harry answered, falling back onto his pillow and closing his eyes. That night, elated and relaxed, he had the first untroubled night he’d had in a long time.

Not even Voldemort could ruin this night for Harry so, true to form, he waited until the next morning.

*~*~*~*


“My Lord, you called me,” a cloaked figure said from the floor in front of him.

“Yes, Avery. Bring Lucius and Bellatrix to me.”

Nodding and bowing, Avery retreated from the room. Looking down, he examined his white, spider-like hands and recoiled slightly as a wave of pride and happiness washed over him. This connection was becoming a bore. Even so, a thin smile twisted the corner of his pale lips as Lucius and Bellatrix walked into the hall.

“My loyal Death Eaters,” he hissed quietly. “Harry Potter has just secured a victory for Gryffindor in the inter-house Quidditch cup.”

A small surge of anger shot through him as Bellatrix and Lucius exchanged bemused glances.

“I feel that it is only fair that we have our own celebrations. One could even go as far as saying in appreciation of the scum’s flawed win.”

Insane smiles lit up the masked faces of two of Voldemort’s most dangerous supporters. “Ahhh, my loyal, cruel Death Eaters,” Voldemort breathed quietly. “Maybe one day you will achieve the same levels of responsibility as my most faithful supporter.”

Bellatrix’s face darkened while Lucius looked up at his master.

“I beg you, master; let us know who this faithful servant is so we can honour them with the respect they so rightly deserve.”

Voldemort laughed cruelly. “Crucio!”

“Get up, Lucius,” Voldemort said unfeelingly as he raised his wand. “You are worthless “ you needed rescuing. If you want to be counted among my most loyal, I suggest you take lessons from my faithful, devoted spy. He will give you a lesson in loyalty.”

Bellatrix looked at Voldemort. “Who is this, master?”

Voldemort laughed again. “Go to Manchester, Bellatrix, and carry out your task. You as well, Lucius. I expect better of you “ both of you.”

Both Death Eaters bowed. “And,” Voldemort continued a smile curling his mouth. “If you are serious that you want a lesson in loyalty to me, I suggest you ask my bravest servant “ Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master at Hogwarts.”












A/N : Sorry this chapter’s a bit short “ I had real trouble with it and none of it seemed to work the way I had planned it to but I hope you liked it! Anyway, let me know your opinions please! Thanks for reading!
The Three Attacks by Stormy
“He would have, wouldn’t he,” Harry spat, slamming his fist onto the Gryffindor table the morning after his 160 “ 10 victory over Ravenclaw. “He can’t even let me win a game of Quidditch without doing something like this! I hate him! Next time I’m… I’m… I’m…” Shaking with anger, he turned around and stormed out of the Great Hall leaving an astonished silence behind him. Hermione grabbed Ron’s arm.

“Leave him, Ron, let him calm down a bit,” she said in a timid voice. “This can’t be easy for him…”

“Easy?! What do you mean, ‘It can’t be easy’. Hermione! Thirty Muggles are dead just because Harry caught the snitch before Cho Chang! How would you like someone to die every time you got an ‘O’ for your homework?!”

Hermione mouthed silently as Ron yelled at her. Tears streaming down her face, she too stood up and left the Great Hall. Barely a minute later, Ron followed her looking both angry and afraid. Ginny, who had been sitting next to Hermione and was clearly confused by Harry’s reaction, reached over and picked up Hermione’s abandoned copy of the Daily Prophet. She flinched as she read the headline:

30 DEAD IN ATTACK ON MANCHESTER.
TARGETED HOUSES WERE IN POTTER STREET, BLOCK OF FLATS NUMBER 160.

So, Ginny thought desperately, Voldemort has a spy in Hogwarts. He even got the score right…

*~*~*~*


“Today you are going to brew the Integroare Draft. Miss Cookford, what is this potion used for?”

A glum looking Slytherin girl stared blankly back at Snape. “I dunno,” she answered.

Hermione scowled, if she’d said ‘dunno’ to Snape, she’d have lost at least five points from Gryffindor. Nervously, she looked at Harry who was staring stonily at the blackboard.

“Mr Potter, what is the use of the Integroare Potion?” Snape asked coolly.

“I dunno,” Harry answered, looking away from the black board and staring equally coldly at his Potions Master. Snape’s eyes narrowed into thin slits.

“What did you say, Potter?” he hissed venomously.

“I said, ‘I dunno’,” Harry answered viciously, not caring about the consequences.

“Ten points from Gryffindor,” Snape cut in icily.

Harry shrugged and stared back at the blackboard.

“Whatever…”

Snape glared at him but Harry’s face remained emotionless as he continued to stare at the board blankly.

“For your information, the potion is a relatively powerful healing draught. Some members of this class will have drunk a substantial amount of it over the last few years…” Snape looked over at Harry pointedly. Harry chose not to rise to Snape’s bait.

Snape’s lip curled as he surveyed Harry. “Start now. At the end of the lesson, I will choose someone to test it on.” Snape headed over to his desk and sat down.

Problem with me today, Potter?
Snape’s voice said inside Harry’s head.

Don’t answer. I’m not going to answer. You can’t make me answer.
Harry thought.

Is that a challenge, Potter?

No,
Harry answered without thinking.

Snape smirked slightly. In that case, answer my question; have you got a problem with me today?

Harry’s hands shook with anger. You damn well know the answer.

Again, Snape smirked. Dear, dear. We are in a filthy mood, aren’t we? Anything to do with what was in the Daily Prophet this morning?

Shut up Snape,
Harry thought viciously.

That’s Professor Snape to you, Potter. Or you can call me Sir.

Alright then, shut up Sir.

Detention. Tonight,
Snape said coldly. Maybe it will teach you to not push your luck in future, Potter.

Fuming, Harry turned back to his potion.

“Uh, Harry?” Hermione said cautiously a few minutes later. “Ummmm, why are you stabbing your knife into the desk?”

“Shut up,” Harry snarled. “That git,” he indicated Snape, “has just given me detention.”

“What? How could he? He hasn’t said so?!”

“Never mind how, he just has,” Harry said through gritted teeth. Wisely, Hermione didn’t say anything and left Harry to brood in silence for the rest of the lesson.

When the end of the class finally came, Harry’s potion was a deep midnight blue in colour. His stomach contracted awkwardly as he looked over to Hermione’s whose was a light, crystalline pink. Snape’s eyes gleamed in triumph as he looked over at Harry’s concoction.

“Potter, what is that supposed to be?”

“The Integroare potion. Sir.” Harry added.

“Potter, read line seventeen again.”

Harry blushed as he read the line for the second time. He hadn’t stirred the potion eight times; the potion he’d made was completely useless.

Snape raised his wand and Vanished Harry’s efforts. “A zero, I think, Potter. We will be testing the remaining potions next lesson. I want a three thousand word essay on the correct brewing of healing potions in by tomorrow from each of you. Potter, I expect you here at seven thirty this evening for your detention. Class dismissed.”

*~*~*~*


“Harry?” Hermione called from behind Harry. “Harry! Wait up.”

“Yes?” Harry answered, swinging around to face her. Hermione recoiled at the look on Harry’s face.

“It’s just, well, I wanted to check you were ok, that’s all. Snape was pretty mean that lesson…”

“I had noticed,” Harry lashed out. “Do you think I’m an idiot as well?”

Hermione looked genuinely upset and Harry instantly regretted shouting at her.

“I’m sorry, Hermione. I didn’t mean for it to sound like that “ it’s just what with Voldemort this morning, and then Snape…”

“I understand Harry,” she replied timidly. “Come on, let’s go and meet up with Ron for lunch.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Harry followed Hermione into the Great Hall. Even so, he couldn’t help but notice the uncomfortable knot in his stomach which told him the day was going to get lots worse before it got better.

*~*~*~*


“You’re late, Potter,” Snape spat as Harry walked through the dungeon door at half past seven that evening. “Five points from Gryffindor.”

“No way! That’s not fair! You can’t…”

“Never tell me what I can and can’t do, Potter. Your arrogant little self should learn that you are neither special nor important, and you never will be either. I want you to clean all the mite wings off the desk. Without magic,” he added viciously.

Fuming, Harry walked over to the desk and began to furiously scrape the insect wings off the desk. After around an hour, Snape walked over to inspect the tables Harry had done. He sneered malevolently as Harry shook with barely suppressed anger.

“This desk is pathetically cleaned, Potter. Do it again. I am appalled at the level of your cleaning skills. They are almost rivalling your atrocious potion making skills, which incidentally are the worst I have ever seen. Maybe this detention will serve to teach you to deflate your already over inflated ego for a while. You see, one day Potter, you will no longer be classed as a hero but…”

Oh for God’s sake, shut up Snape.

“…but an arrogant attention seeking little boy who’s had an easy life…”

“Easy?!” Harry snapped back, his temper beginning to boil. “Sure, I don’t seem to remember you seeing your godfather die in front of you, or a classmate being murdered, or your parents dying when you were a baby…”

Snape’s cold eyes burnt viciously. “No, Potter. But I have seen things your pampered and protected little mind couldn’t even imagine.”

“Like what?” Harry shot back instantly.

“You could never understand. It requires a brain to…”

“I have a brain!” interrupted Harry.

Snape looked indifferently at Harry.

“I see no evidence of the sort. As far as I am concerned, you are a foolish little attention-seeking baby who has an unfortunate habit of getting yourself upset over something that isn’t happening and then getting someone murdered in the process of ‘rescuing’ them. The mess you leave behind you has ruined a good many more lives than just yours.”

Angry tears began to burn Harry’s eyes as Snape’s words hit home.

“I know the truth at least; about you,” Harry answered, speaking randomly hoping Snape would back off. “Things you probably wouldn’t want anyone else to know.”

“Know what? What could you possibly know about me?” hissed Snape dangerously, drawing his wand.

“You were jealous at school and you’re still jealous now! You’ve always wanted to be like my Dad, and me, but you never could be. Instead, you were a slimy Slytherin who followed around after people bigger and stronger than you! Since no one wanted you, you went chasing after Voldemort inst…”

Never say the Dark Lord’s name, you worthless scum.”

“VOLDEMORT!” Harry shouted. “And why are you so scared for me to say your best buddy’s name? You probably spent years in his company, killing and torturing people just for the hell of it. Why not at least use his proper name if you won’t use the made up nickname he gave himself? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you calling him Tom…”

“Keep your mouth shut, Potter. I will not be spoken to like that,” Snape breathed dangerously.

“See if I care,” Harry shot back, the anger he had been building up all day finally getting the better of him. “You’re nothing but a worthless Death Eater...”

“Crucio!” Snape hissed, pointing his wand directly at Harry who screamed and fell to the floor. “Never, ever say I am a Death Eater, or a servant of the Dark Lord, ever again. Now get out of my sight this instant.”

Shaking, Harry pulled himself upright and stared at Snape. After a few seconds, he turned around and stormed out of the dungeon, fury burning like a fire through him.

Snape had just used an Unforgivable on him, albeit for a split second, and Harry was outraged not least because the familiar aches of the Cruciatus curse once again plagued him. No, the real problem Harry had was a small part of him acknowledged Snape’s actions.

Deep down, Harry knew he had deserved it.

*~*~*~*


Ron and Hermione were sitting together up in the Gryffindor Common Room while Harry was in detention. Unusually, the Common Room was deserted, many of the Gryffindors either still in the library or wandering the corridors.

“…I’m sorry about earlier, Hermione; I was just upset over, you know, what was in the Prophet…”

“It’s all right,” Hermione answered quietly. “I know it’s hard of all of us, not least Harry. I just hope it doesn’t push as apart.”

“Yeah,” Ron muttered. “He’s changed since last year. I thought it was Sirius at first but, I don’t know, I think there’s something else as well. He seems to think that whatever You-Know-Who does is his fault.”

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, I’d noticed that too. Maybe we should just outright ask him…?”

“No way,” Ron answered definitely. “You know what Harry’s like when he’s pushed. I guess we’ve just got to wait. Harry will tell us when he’s ready.”

Grudgingly, Hermione agreed. “Just don’t you disappear, like he has...”

Ron smiled slightly, his ears going red. “Me? Go anywhere? Not likely…”

Hermione grinned embarrassedly, a faint pink tinge gracing her cheeks. “Ron,” she started hesitantly. “I don’t really know how to say this but I think…”

Hermione was cut off as the Fat Lady’s portrait swung open and Harry, his face red with anger, stormed into the Common Room. He was so angry it appeared that he hadn’t even noticed Ron and Hermione curled up on the couch.

“Umm, Harry? How’d it go?” Ron said cautiously.

Harry stopped and stared back angrily at his best friend. “Bloody awful. Snape is the world’s biggest…” Harry made a violent gesture in the air, “…git.”

“Come on, Harry, I know he’s not very nice but it can’t have been that bad…”

“What would you know about it, Hermione? You weren’t even there! That was the worst detention I’ve ever had. I hate him! Next time I see him I’m going to kill him…”

Ron and Hermione exchanged alarmed glances. “You don’t mean that, Harry.”

“Why shouldn’t I? He’s taken everything else from me, why shouldn’t I take something from him?”

Ron had gone pale and Hermione appeared to be close to tears. “Harry, what…?”

“I’m going to bed,” Harry snapped, storming up to the dormitory.

Ron and Hermione sat there in silence before Ron cautiously followed Harry upstairs. Several minutes later, Hermione went up to her own dormitory in silence.

Without knowing it, Harry had just pushed himself away from the two people he needed more than anyone else.

*~*~*~*


Over the next few days, Harry barely spoke to anyone. When Harry had gone to the first Occlumency lesson after his detention with Snape, Dumbledore had gently enquired if anything was bothering him. Harry had just responded with a glare and “It’s none of your business.” When Dumbledore used Legilimency to try and find out what his pupil was so angry about, he quickly realised Harry had used the Clamcelo and hidden whatever was bothering him from the world.

Both Ron and Hermione had started to avoid Harry whenever they could since he was likely to explode if they so much as sat in the wrong chair. It didn’t take long for Hermione and Ron to be pushed closer together “ something which made Harry even angrier.

The most astounding change though was between Harry and Snape. If they had hated each other before they were almost at war with the other now. The tension in the Potions lessons between them had become almost unbearable and the news had spread around Hogwarts like wildfire. When challenged though, Harry refused to answer and Snape just threatened that he knew of a lot of poisons which he would be more than willing to use.

The Hogwarts rumour mill was working overtime although all the wild accusations never came close to the truth. After all, who would guess the Head of Slytherin House would curse a sixth year student with a spell that could result in a life sentence in Azkaban?

*~*~*~*


A week later, Ginny walked up to Harry as he sat brooding in the Common Room.

“Hey Harry.”

“What?” Harry snapped sulkily.

“Oh, for God’s sake, grow up Harry. It was only a detention.”

“Only a detention?!” Harry answered in disbelief. “Ginny, you only know half of it!”

“Then tell me,” the youngest Weasley said directly.

Harry quailed under Ginny’s intense yet curious gaze. At last, Harry could bottle his feelings up inside himself no longer.

“He used an Unforgivable,” Harry whispered in a barely audible voice.

“On you?”

Harry nodded, a tear falling down his face.

“Oh Harry. Why didn’t you say?”

Harry shrugged. “I deserved it.”

“No one deserves that Harry. The Cruciatus curse? Tell someone Harry. Tell McGonagall. Or even Dumbledore!” Ginny was nearly crying herself.

“No! No, I… I… I can’t. I’ll have to say what I said too.”

“Chill, Harry. Everything’ll be ok. You don’t have to tell anyone if you don’t want to. Shhhh, come on now, everything’s going to be fine…”

Carefully, she hugged Harry until he had no more tears to cry. “Thanks Ginny. Sorry, I was just- ”

Ginny shook he head. “It doesn’t matter Harry. Come on, let’s go and see Ron and Hermione.” Meekly nodding, Harry followed her.

*~*~*~*


Once Harry, with Ginny’s help, told Ron and Hermione what had happened during his detention with Snape he felt immeasurably more cheerful. Ron and Hermione, delighted at having the Harry they knew back, decided not to mention what had happened again and carried on looking forward to the Christmas break. It had been agreed that they would all go to Grimmauld Place for the holidays and Harry was quite looking forward to it.

On the first Saturday in December; Harry, Ginny, Hermione and Ron went to Hogsmeade to do their Christmas shopping. After around two hours of battling through crowded shops, they all met up in the Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer and a chat. At last, with snow collecting several inches deep on the window sill, Harry began to truly look forward to Christmas.

Harry raised his bottle to the other three.

“Cheers guys, to a great Christmas!”

“Cheers!” the other three echoed.

Hermione’s voice wavered slightly and she raised her bottle for the second time.

“And cheers to a peaceful New Year.”

Harry glanced at her uneasily but none the less, he lifted his bottle and drank unashamedly to the hope that Hermione’s wish would come true.

*~*~*~*


It was the 13th December when Harry received the letter which shook his world and successfully ruined his excitement of the coming Christmas.

Harry was sitting quietly in his dormitory at 11.30pm when a coal black owl flew in through the window, a dead snake in its beak. Harry recoiled slightly as the bird flew down next to him and boldly held its leg out, a black envelope curled around it. Hesitantly, Harry pulled off the letter and the owl disappeared into the night, leaving the dead snake on Harry’s pillow.

Revolted at the reptile’s carcass, Harry opened the letter hoping that the contents couldn’t be as bad as what was now on his pillow.

The first thing that struck him was the handwriting was oddly spiked, and yet it seemed to be written in a firm, definite hand. Harry blanched as he noticed the image of the Dark Mark was carefully emblazoned in the corner. Trepidation coursing through his veins, Harry unwillingly read the message.

Dear Mr Potter,

I hope that you will enjoy my own seasonal celebrations over the next twelve days. I trust you know the worthless Muggles like to sing carols at this time of year? Maybe your equally worthless parents sing them to you during the Christmas breaks. Oh, I had almost forgotten. You don’t live with them, do you; because I killed them fifteen years, one month, thirteen days and around 23 and a half hours ago. You grew up with those Muggle vermin for ten years instead; even so, you must know what carols are.

Pity, I appear to be growing sentimental writing this. At some point in you worthless life you must have heard the racket known as ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’. It gives me great pleasure to inform you of my version.

Enjoy,

L.V.

Horrified, Harry unfolded the second piece of parchment. The red writing was clearly not written in ink and the lyrics had been grotesquely altered.

On the first day of Christmas, my servants brought to me,
The carcass of a Muggle.

On the second day of Christmas, my servants brought to me,
Two tortured men
And the carcass of a Muggle.

Harry read on, repulsed, as Voldemort continued writing the lyrics. At the bottom, Harry had tears streaming down his face as he read the final verse.

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my servants gave to me,
Twelve murdered wizards,
Eleven unnamed bodies,
Ten worthless Muggles,
Nine women mourning,
Eight children screaming,
Seven frightened parents,
Six severed limbs,
Five burnt homes.
Four crying girls,
Three cursed kids,
Two tortured men,
And the carcass of a Muggle.

Harry grabbed the letter and bolted downstairs into the common room.

“Harry! What…?!” Hermione’s startled voice cutting through the common room as Harry burst into the room with tears streaming down his face.

Harry was past caring; he threw himself through the portrait hall, heading for the fifth floor with his mind working in overdrive. All of a sudden, Harry felt someone grab his shoulders. A new terror overtook everything as Harry, unable to keep control of himself any longer, threw up all over the floor. Whoever was holding his shoulders didn’t let go. Harry drew his wand.

“Potter,” a cold voice sneered, forcing Harry to turn around. “What can possibly be so significant that you feel the need to come screaming through the school at this hour? Fifty points from Gry-”

Snape stopped as Harry’s eyes met his own. Instantly, Snape’s eyes darted to the letter and then back to Harry’s face. His own face was void of all emotion although his coal dark eyes narrowed at the sight of the blackened envelope. Everything that had happened between them since the detention was overruled by the arrival of the letter.

“Get to Dumbledore’s office. Now!” he ordered, dragging Harry towards the stone gargoyle. “And don’t say anything until you are there.”

Harry, tears still streaming down his ashen face, wordlessly followed Snape up the moving staircase.

*~*~*~*


Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk studying a lunar chart when Snape kicked open the door, dragging Harry with him. Harry couldn’t bring himself to speak so Snape wrenched the letter out of Harry’s grasp and threw it to Dumbledore.

“Potter’s over-reacting again,” Snape said icily. “What ever is in that letter is a fake.”

Dumbledore, after a quick glance at Harry, unfolded the parchment and read its contents swiftly. As if dreading the outcome, he pulled out his wand and muttered “Aldulterinus!” The parchment turned black and the red ink turned to a shimmering, burning green.

The letter was genuine.

Dumbledore let the parchment fall from his limp hand and Snape reached out and read it emotionlessly. Harry let out another anguished cry as his legs gave way beneath him and he fell to the floor.

It was over three hours before Harry finally allowed himself do drift into an exhausted sleep. In that time, neither Snape nor Dumbledore had moved from their position of standing guard over Harry, their wands held rigidly in their hands.







A/N : So then guys, what do you think? I hope you’re all enjoying reading this as much as I’m enjoying writing it! As always, you opinions are greatly appreciated and feel free to ask me any questions you may have. Special thanks to everyone who has reviewed the previous chapters! ~ Stormy x
Christmas by Stormy
The next morning, Harry awoke to find himself lying on a soft bed with scarlet covers and a white feather pillow. For a second, he fully intended to slip back to sleep until the memory of the night before drifted into his mind.

“No!”

Harry sat bolt upright in fear and quickly took in his unfamiliar surroundings. A polished oak desk was just visible through a crack in the slightly open door and, just beyond it, Harry could see the corners of what looked like portraits. A second later, a flash of gold soared past the door and settled on a perch. Just next to the bed, Harry noticed his wand, his glasses and a jug of water. The window immediately opposite of him showed a weak sun gleaming off the blanket of snow enshrouding the grounds; the Quidditch Pitch was just visible through the hazy sunshine. Cautiously, Harry got out of bed and made his way over to the door, his wand held defiantly in his hand.

“Good morning Harry,” a soft voice said.

Harry stared as Professor Dumbledore turned around and motioned Harry to sit down.

“Would you like some breakfast?”

Harry shook his head. “Professor, last night! The letter, Voldemort, Snape…”

Dumbledore raised his hand to silence Harry. “They are being dealt with. Are you all right? You gave us all quite a scare last night.”

Harry shuddered unwillingly and ignored the question. “But that letter! You said it was genuine. Voldemort’s going to do what he said he was; he’s not the sort of person to make threats and not carry them through.”

“Listen to me, Harry,”
Dumbledore said, giving Harry a piercing look. “There is nothing we can do at the moment to stop Voldemort’s wrath. We have no idea where he is going to strike, or when, and I have not had any information from any of my, er, sources.”

“Snape,” Harry muttered quietly.

Professor Snape, Harry. As it so happens, he is currently in contact with the Death Eaters and is trying to discover where the attacks are to take place. Until he returns, there is little anyone can do other than wait,” Dumbledore added regretfully.

“But this is my fault…”

“Harry, this is not, and cannot, ever be viewed as your fault. It is only the fault of Lord Voldemort. You have done more than anyone in delaying Voldemort’s return to power and it is you, out of every wizard alive, who has come the closest to defeating him once and for all. It is also thanks to you, Harry, that the Wizarding world has been able to live in peace for as long as we have.” For the first time, Dumbledore’s voice sounded with a trace of despair and helplessness.

As Dumbledore looked away, he, Harry, was almost sure that Dumbledore’s hand shook very slightly. He instantly thought he had imagined it though as Dumbledore stood up carefully and Fawkes flew onto his shoulder.

“Harry, I suggest you go back to Gryffindor Tower now. Miss Granger and Mr Weasley have been asking after you all morning and young Miss Weasley threatened to use a certain Bat-Bogey Hex on me if you didn’t return to the Common Room by midday. If you do have any concerns and you would like to speak with me, you are more than welcome to come here at any time. I will also remind you that you can use you Patronuntrius to contact me if you need to.”

Harry stood up to leave, smiling at the thought of small, determined Ginny threatening the Headmaster.

“Oh, and Harry,” Dumbledore added as Harry reached the door. “I suggest you make your move over the Christmas break. I am sure she has been waiting for you to acknowledge her for several years and I think she is beginning to tire of waiting.”

Harry blushed as the Headmaster smiled slightly and his blue eyes twinkled brightly. As Harry walked down the stairs and headed towards the Gryffindor Common Room, for the first time he appreciated just quite how observant Albus Dumbledore really was.

*~*~*~*


When Harry walked into Gryffindor Tower, he was amazed to see Ron, Hermione and Ginny sitting alone in a corner. Harry froze as he heard Ron speaking to Hermione, Ginny was silent.

“…It’s just a question of where we go from here. Harry’s hiding something from us; all of us. He’s been like this before but not quite as bad as it is now.”

“Ron, Harry has been through a lot you have to remember that-”

“Hermione, how can we help him if he shuts us out? You saw what happened after that detention with Snape…”

“Drop it about the detention, Ron. Harry doesn’t have to say what he happened. I mean, it wasn’t as if Snape pulled out his wand and outright cursed him, is it?”

Harry coughed pointedly behind them, partly to distract them from Ginny’s uncomfortable shifting.

“Harry!”

Hermione leapt up and threw herself at Harry, embracing him in a hug.

“Oh Harry, we’ve been so worried! Last night, when you came down stairs crying, it was awful. All three of us went to see Professor Dumbledore this morning but he wouldn’t tell us anything. I would have been to see Professor McGonagall but…”

“Knock it off, Hermione,” Ron said with a smile. “Let the man breathe! All right, Harry?” he added.

“Yeah,” Harry muttered. “I’m fine.”

Ginny walked over to Harry, her hands on her hips.

“For the last time, Harry, will you stop giving stupid answers?! I’m sick of the ‘I’m fine’ business when things clearly aren’t!”

Harry quailed slightly as Ginny carried on, a slight blush gracing his cheeks.

“When are you going to learn? Ever since Sirius died, you’ve been acting like a complete idiot: moping around and pretending everything’s your fault. For Merlin’s sake, Harry, stop lying to us! Sirius is dead, gone, finished; now move on with your life! Don’t keep using him as an excuse! When you’re like this, you’re just playing right into You-Know-Who’s hands! For Merlin’s sake Harry; we all know You-Know-Who’s back, but it’s not like you’re the one that has to kill him, is it?!”

Harry, Ron and Hermione were stunned into silence at Ginny’s words. Ginny, who had suddenly realised what she’d said, turned the same colour as her hair.

“I… er… I’m… um… Sorry Harry! I didn’t mean to say that about Sirius…” Ginny said falteringly.

Harry just stood there, pale with shock. Little did Ginny know that she’d just hit the real reason of Harry’s fear bang on target. For one fleeting moment, Harry was on the verge of telling them the Prophecy but as soon as he thought this, the fear of their reactions made him change his mind.

“I… sorry… I… um… I didn’t think…”

Harry shrugged, his face still pale. “Forget it.”

Hermione shifted slightly and Ron gave her a fleeting look before turning back to Harry. “So then mate, what happened last night?”

“Why don’t we all sit down or something?” Harry said. After a quick glance to check nobody was eavesdropping, he took a deep breathe and began to explain what had happened twelve hours previously.

*~*~*~*


On the twelve days running up to Christmas, Voldemort was true to his word. Each day, the Prophet came out with yet another report of torturing or murders and each time the tense, heavy weight Harry felt he was carrying always became a little bit heavier.

Ron and Hermione spent a lot of time together, their Prefect duties allowing them plenty of opportunity to be alone. At times, Harry felt a little bit rejected but he was pleased his best friends had found happiness at last.

Ginny, on the other hand, began to spend more time with Harry than ever before. Often they sat together in the Common Room and just talked about Quidditch, or homework, or what they wanted for Christmas. It didn’t take long for Harry to begin to enjoy these times with Ginny; it even got to the stage that Harry was actually looking forward to the evenings when he got the chance to be with the youngest Weasley.

Never, though, did their conversations drift towards what went on outside the walls of Hogwarts’ Castle.

*~*~*~*


On Christmas Eve, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny found themselves once again at Grimmauld Place after the train ride back to Platform 9¾ from Hogsmeade. Tonks, Lupin and Mad-Eye Moody had met them at the station and taken all four of them straight back to Headquarters. That evening, they all sat down to a delicious meal cooked by Mrs Weasley and it didn’t take long for Harry to begin to relax and get excited about the next day.

“Thanks, Mrs Weasley; that was delicious!”

Murmurs of agreement came from Tonks, Lupin, Mr Weasley, Hermione and all the Weasley children except, obviously, the still absent Percy.

A few seconds of sleepy, contented silence followed although it was quickly broken by a faint shuffling and muttering. As one, everyone in the room grew tense although, strangely, they all looked at Harry.

“That’s Kreacher, isn’t it,” Harry said coldly, his eyes flashing.

“Yes, Harry,” Lupin said cautiously, ignoring Mrs Weasley’s hiss of anger.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me he was here last summer?” Harry said rising from his chair and staring at the shadowed corner.

“You weren’t ready to hear,” Tonks answered instantly, pulling Harry back into his chair. “He’ll only take orders from Dumbledore now and he told Kreacher he was to go nowhere near you.”

Still angry, Harry sat down and took a deep breath and, for some reason, Harry felt his anger overtaken by a new, more mature emotion.

“Fine,” he snapped. “Keep him out of my way; I won’t be responsible for my actions if I see him…”

Again, a tense silence followed before Arthur Weasley broke the tension. “Well, how about everyone have an early night so we can have a nice day tomorrow?”

“That sounds like a good idea,” answered Lupin quickly, clearly grasping at the change of topic.

“Yes, go on now, all of you,” said Mrs Weasley, chivvying Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and the twins out of the room.

As Harry left the room, he hesitated before he shut the door.

Why did I just let that go?
He thought quietly. That thing is the reason Sirius… Once again, Harry felt himself overcome by a wave of sadness. He jumped slightly as someone touched his arm.

“Come on, Harry,” Ginny said quietly. “Don’t let that stupid, wrinkled old gnome ruin our Christmas “ he’s not worth that.” Together, Harry and Ginny walked upstairs, Ginny’s quiet talking soothing away Harry’s anger.

Neither of them noticed Mrs Weasley standing at the bottom of the stairs openly staring at her daughter’s fingers clasped tightly by the hand of the Boy-Who-Lived.

*~*~*~*


“Come on, you two, we’re not going to wait for you!”

Ginny’s excited voice punctured through Harry’s brain at half past six the next morning.

“Get up, Ron; stop being so lazy!”

“Ow!”

Harry forced his eyes open in time to see Ginny and Hermione pulling of Ron’s quilt cover. Ron, however, curled up into a ball and muttered something about stubborn girlfriends and horrible sisters.

“You too, Harry.”

Ginny reached over and mercilessly pulled Harry’s quilt off as well. “You have five minutes to get downstairs or we’re opening your presents for you.”

Instantly, Harry was wide awake. Just as the girls left the room laughing, Harry stood up and pulled on his clothes. A few seconds later, Ron also began to stir and got dressed next to Harry. For some reason, Harry’s attention was caught by a small, grimy portrait on the wall opposite. Harry felt a twinge of unease as he noticed the portrait was empty “ he hadn’t seen Phineas Nigellus since that night in the Dumbledore’s office nearly six months previously.

“Come on Harry!”

Ron’s excited voice broke through Harry’s melancholy thoughts as he pushed past Harry and bounded downstairs. Grinning in spite of himself, Harry followed.

*~*~*~*


Four hours later, Harry was the owner of an enormous stack of Chocolate Frogs, Fizzing Whizzbees and Sugar Quills, not to mention a small mountain of the twins’ new inventions. Tonks and Lupin had pitched in together to get Harry a book on practical jokes “ a present Harry had quickly hidden from view before either Hermione or Mrs Weasley tried to confiscate it.

After a massive Christmas dinner with most of the Order, Harry, Ron and Ginny were sitting curled up on the floor either reading one of their books or, in the case of Ginny, trying to arrange a stack of magical beads into patterns. As soon as she made a symmetrical pattern, the beads exploded in a shower of glitter and as each piece of glitter hit the floor, it transfigured itself into another bead. Hermione, unsurprisingly, was sitting on the couch reading a large book entitled ‘Tricky Charms and the Theories Behind Them’.

A few minutes later, the door banged open and Charlie Weasley bounded into the room.

“Hey guys, look what I found!”

In his hand, a sprig of mistletoe hung precariously downwards. “So then, who’s first?”

“Give that here,” said Mr Weasley, standing up. “Molly?”

Smiling, Mrs Weasley walked over to her husband and gave him a kiss.

“Urgh, Mum!”

“Your turn, little bro,” said Charlie, depositing the plant in Ron’s hand.

“Hermione?”

Looking less composed than she usually did, Hermione stood up and walked over to Ron. Grinning, she and Ron kissed and pulled away from each other; a meaningful look passed between them.

“Um, maybe now… I mean… Ron and me… Sort of… you know…” Hermione stuttered, looking almost as if she was too embarrassed to talk.

“We’re going out,” Ron blurted out and was stunned as everyone, including Mrs Weasley, burst out laughing. Fred and George started cheering.

“Told ya so! Told ya so!” they chanted to a very disgruntled Bill.

“All right you two. Just because you bet it would be at Christmas and I thought it would be Easter…”

“How did you know?” Ron said, flabbergasted.

“Oh Ronald, it was obvious!”

“Really?” Ron said, blushing again. “I thought it was a really big secret!”

Laughing, Charlie passed the mistletoe over to Harry. “Go on Harry, I dare you.”

Never one to turn down a challenge, Harry looked over to Ginny who had brilliantly flaming cheeks.

Just as Harry kissed Ginny, he felt a leaping, happy feeling overwhelming him, very different from anything he’d felt before. It took Harry a little while to realise that it was similar to the way he’d felt when he was with Cho, but different; somehow deeper than before. Looking into Ginny’s eyes, he realised in a flash that she’d felt it too. Remus Lupin cleared his throat loudly and Harry leapt back, blushing furiously.

Fred and George, side by side, had identical looks of shock on their faces, their mouths hanging open. Ron and Hermione also looked surprised although less so than the twins. Mr and Mrs Weasley just smiled.

*~*~*~*


A few days later, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Harry found themselves back at Hogwarts. Tonks and Lupin had taken them to the station and the journey back had been uneventful. Ron and Hermione were as close as ever but Ginny began to distance herself from Harry, almost as if she was afraid.

Harry couldn’t comprehend what he had done to induce this coldness from Ginny but he felt a new emotion of loss sweep over him. One thing was certain; he’d messed everything up with Cho and he was determined not to do so again.









A/N: Opinions please! My first go at romance “ I’d be interested in what you all think. Once again, special thanks to everyone who has reviewed! ~Stormy x
The Power of Suggestion by Stormy
Harry sat restlessly twisting his robes as he sat in the Gryffindor Common Room two days after he had returned to Hogwarts after Christmas. Ginny had been avoiding him and Harry could only assume that she had been offended by the kiss. Cringing, Harry began beating himself up, thinking that if only he hadn’t risen to Charlie’s tantalising bait, he’d have Ginny beside him now.

Why, oh why did I kiss her? If I’d have just said ‘no’ Ginny wouldn’t hate me now! I just pushed too hard; leapt in too early. Like with Cho. Oh Merlin, why did this happen…?

He jerked his head up as a red haired figure walked into the room from the girls dormitories.

“Ginny?”

Ginny, who hadn’t realised Harry was in the Common Room, looked over to him and began blushing furiously.

“Ginny.” Now Harry had her attention, he really wasn’t sure what to say. All his carefully prepared speeches went out the window as he stared at the youngest Weasley; he felt the heat crawl mercilessly up his face.

“Ginny I’m…”

“Sorry Harry…”

Both Harry and Ginny started talking together and they both stopped, each waiting for the other to start talking again. Harry tried again.

“Ginny. I just wanted to say, well, I’m really sorry about that kiss over Christmas. I didn’t mean to…I mean I did mean to… but… sort of… well…”

Ginny watched him, a tear falling down her cheek.

Oh God,
Harry thought in panic. This isn’t meant to happen…

Throwing caution to the winds, Harry spoke in a rush.

“Ginny, I think I love you.”

To his utter amazement, Ginny ran over to him and gave him a huge hug.

“Harry!” she sobbed. “Oh Harry. I thought you hated me, you know, after what happened at Christmas. I thought you only kissed me because Charlie challenged you to. I’ve fancied you for years “ that’s why I never worked things out with Michael and Dean. And, well, I didn’t want to get my hopes up. Oh Harry, I thought you hated me!”

Harry was totally bemused. “Me? Hate you?” he answered slowly. “Ginny! I’ve been beating myself up that you hated me!”

Ginny’s dark brown eyes looked into Harry’s green ones. “If you love me,” she said, a mischievous gleam in her eyes as she reached up to kiss Harry, “why don’t you show me?”

With a smile gracing his face, Harry realised for the first time just quite how pretty Ginevra Weasley really was. As he reached down, he felt Ginny’s soft hair fall onto his shoulder and he felt again the same leaping feeling he had felt at Christmas. It was only this time, however, that he knew it would be the start of a new beginning.

*~*~*~*


After a week of being back at Hogwarts, Harry once again found himself making his way over to Dumbledore’s office for yet another Occlumency lesson. Maybe it was due to his happiness of being with Ginny, or spending time away from Hogwarts or maybe just the simple fact that there had been few attacks on Muggles by Voldemort, but Harry found he was at last able to begin to block Dumbledore for short periods of time. True, his Occlumency shield wasn’t as resistant as it could be but it was definitely an improvement.

Secretly, Harry began to hope that he could soon give up Occlumency for good.

*~*~*~*


“Mr Potter, if you would kindly pay attention.”

Harry jumped and looked up into Professor McGonagall’s stern face. For the last ten minutes, Harry had been lazily staring out the window with his attention wandering towards the upcoming Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff game and consequently he hadn’t been paying attention to McGonagall’s long speech on Human Transfiguration.

“Sorry, Professor.”

“For the benefit of Mr Potter,” Professor McGonagall continued in a slightly clipped tone, “I expect you all to divide up into pairs and attempt to transfigure your hand into wood. I will award twenty five points to the first person to complete the charm successfully.”

Harry joined up with Parvati, who had been sitting next to him, while Ron and Hermione worked together as usual.

“Abiegnus!” Harry made a slightly awkward jabbing motion at Parvati’s hand and succeeded only in turning it a sickly green colour. Professor McGonagall flicked her wand and returned it back to normal.

“I suggest you have some more practice, Potter,” Professor McGonagall said sternly, although Harry thought he detected a slight trace of amusement in her voice.

Looking round, he saw Parvati examining her hand with a frown creasing her brow.

“Maybe I should have a go.”

Shrinking back from Parvati’s reproachful glare, Harry quickly allowed her to do the charm and kept his wand in his pocket for the rest of the lesson.

After around forty minutes of fruitless practicing, no one in the class had been able to perform the charm correctly. Even Hermione was having trouble so Professor McGonagall assigned the whole class a six page essay on the ‘correct application of the Abiegnus Charm’.

Grumbling, the Gryffindors headed back to the Great Hall for lunch and prepared themselves for Charms. Unusually, Professor Flitwick had been setting very difficult lesson, mainly on giving the caster extra powers. Harry and Ron weren’t alone in the disgruntled mutterings complaining that Charms had recently had become almost as demanding as Transfiguration.

“I dunno, Harry,” Ron said thickly through a mouthful of sausage and mash. “I still think McGonagall’s lesson is harder. She seems to take it personally when we’re all rubbish…”

Hermione made a small noise of irritation in Ron’s direction.

“Come on Hermione, even you were rubbish today.”

Hermione put her fork down and glared at Ron. “At least I was better than you; I didn’t burn a hole through your hand, or make it grow purple spots, did I?”

Ron looked up thoughtfully. “Yeah, that’s true. But then again, I didn’t glue your hand to the table, like you did to mine…”

Harry snorted into his peas. Both Ron and Hermione threw Harry furious glares so Harry quickly distracted himself with the pumpkin juice.

“Harry?” a slightly misty voice said from behind him. Harry turned around and came face to face with Luna Lovegood.

“I just wanted to say, Cho Chang has been talking about you recently. I just thought you’d like to know.”

Ron and Hermione dropped their frowns instantly and replaced them with looks of frank curiosity.

“Yes?” Harry continued, slightly annoyed Luna didn’t elaborate. “What does she want now? Or has Marietta tried to get the DA banned again?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that,” Luna answered dreamily. “She was just saying that she wondered if you wanted to get back together again.”

“What?” Harry answered, surprised by the question. He certainly hadn’t been expecting that question. Looking over Luna’s shoulder, Harry noticed Ginny walk into the Great Hall. “Got bored with Michael Corner already? But as for me, tell her she’s wasting her time; I’m taken already.”

“I’ll tell her then. See you later, Harry, Ron, Hermione.” She drifted off back over to the Ravenclaw table.

Harry looked over at Ron, who looked mildly amused, and Hermione, who was looking thoughtful.

“Yes, I forgot to mention it and Luna’s just made me remember. Do you know what happened to Marietta, Harry?”

Harry shook his head. “No, although I haven’t seen her around,” he added as an afterthought.

“That’s because she’s not here any more, is she,” Hermione said in her annoying know-it-all voice. “Her mother wouldn’t let her come back to Hogwarts after she saw what my jinx had done to her face.”

Harry vividly remembered that night the year before when the words ‘SNEAK’ had first appeared on Marietta’s face. He glanced at Ron who grinned in response. They both agreed privately that the spell had definitely been one of Hermione’s finest moments; well, that and punching Malfoy in their third year.

Hermione continued in her annoyingly superior voice. “I think she’s at Beauxbatons now, although I’m not certain. Mind you, I do feel sorry for Fleur and the others who have to put up with her now that she’s- ” Hermione was interrupted as the bell rang to signal the end of lunch.

“Come on, or we’ll be late for Flitwick,” Harry said, swiftly giving Ginny a glancing kiss before leading the way to the third floor.

*~*~*~*


It was the ninth of February when Harry made his next breakthrough with Occlumency. Determinedly, Harry raised his wand and faced the aged Headmaster who smiled slightly over his half moon glasses.

“Are you ready then?”

Harry nodded as he straightened his back and stared directly at Dumbledore, who almost casually raised his own wand.

“Right then, if you’re ready…”

Harry nodded, griping his wand tighter.

“After three then; one… two… three… Legilimens!”

Harry allowed himself to relax completely and focused on shutting down all his emotions. Dumbledore’s continuous and powerful attack didn’t relent although Harry found, at last, that he was able to stop Dumbledore’s Legilimens spell. After around ten minutes, the aged Headmaster raised his wand and the unyielding pressure lifted from Harry. The aged Headmaster smiled at Harry, his blue eyes twinkling brightly.

“Congratulations are in order, Harry,” said Dumbledore. “You have reached the end of the road with regards to my teaching in the art of Occlumency; you can now forcefully stop even my strongest attacks. There is nothing more I can teach you.”

Harry grinned in spite of himself. “Does that mean I never have to take another Occlumency lesson, ever again?”

Dumbledore’s eyes flickered slightly as he surveyed Harry.

Harry broke the silence as Dumbledore hesitated. “Does it? I mean, if you can’t break my Occlumency shield then Voldemort can’t either, can he?”

“I don’t know, Harry,” Dumbledore answered softly. “You see, there are two people who are more skilled in the art of Legilimency and Occlumency than myself; both of whom you will know.”

“Voldemort,” Harry muttered, spitting the name of his tongue like venom. “But the other…?”

“You are correct with Voldemort, Harry,” Dumbledore said slowly, his eyes drifting up to Harry’s face. “The other is…”

“No,” Harry said, stepping backwards as he interrupted Dumbledore. “No, not again. You saw what happened last year.”

“There is no one else, Harry,” Dumbledore answered in a level voice. “Severus Snape is the most accomplished Occlumens I have ever met. I have reason to believe his gift in shutting down his thoughts and emotions means he is adept in the skills required to perform Legilimency far beyond that of any other wizard. This gift, I believe, has now surpassed even the powers of Lord Voldemort. If you can learn to resist him, you should have the power to resist Voldemort himself.”

“But he hates me,” Harry said desperately. “You know what happened last year, when I saw his memories; he threw me out of his office and said that he’d never teach me Occlumency again! He’d rather see me dead than alive!”

Dumbledore tilted his head slightly as he fixed Harry with his piercing gaze.

“Professor Snape has never wanted you dead, Harry. No matter what his faults are, Severus is an honest and trustworthy man.” Dumbledore’s voice rose and, for the first time, he appeared angry with Harry, who had shaken his head disbelievingly at the Headmaster’s words.

“As I have told you before, it is not my place to tell you why I trust him; if Severus ever tells you, however, that is up to him. Until then, I expect you to go down to Professor Snape’s office twice a week to have an Occlumency lesson. That is not negotiable,” he added as Harry opened his mouth to argue.

Furiously, Harry turned around and walked out of the office, slamming the door behind him. He was so angry that he didn’t even realise that Dumbledore still didn’t know Snape had used the Cruciatus curse on him just before Christmas.

And he never will,
Harry vowed silently. It’s not worth it, for him to know…

Dumbledore closed his eyes in disbelief as Harry slammed the door although he smiled slightly as he recalled the identical reaction he had got off another black haired wizard barely two hours previously. Snape had not taken to the responsibility of teaching Harry Occlumency again any more positively than Harry had taken to being privately tutored by the Potions Master for the second year running.

With a slightly guilty feeling of realisation, Dumbledore acknowledged that he had just forced together two people who would rather avoid each other at all costs.

It is ironic really,
Dumbledore thought amusedly, that the two people who consider themselves at opposite ends of the spectrum are, in reality, as similar as peas in a pod.

One thing was certain in Dumbledore’s opinion; the next few weeks were going to be interesting.





A/N: So then, Harry’s back with Snape again!

I am amazed by all the comments everyone has left “ I’m so pleased you all seem to be enjoying the story!

Also, for anyone who’s interested and doesn’t know already, ‘Abiegnus’ means ‘wood of fir’ in Latin.

Not the longest chapter in the world but, as always, your comments are hugely appreciated. Thanks to those who do take the time to review and I’d be very interested if anyone can guess what’s coming next…

I would also like to say a special thank you to Chelsea, who has been moderating the last few chapters of this story! Thanks a lot!
Unexpected Departure by Stormy
A few days after Harry’s last Occlumency lesson, he, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were sitting together enjoying an early breakfast on the morning of the Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff match.

“Pass us the toast, Harry,” Ron said through a mouthful of scrambled egg. “What?!” he added as Hermione gave a disgusted tutting noise.

“Ron, did you mother ever teach you table manners?”

“Shwudaviktwoo.”

“Sorry?” Hermione said in an exasperated voice. Ron swallowed and looked over to his girlfriend.

“I said, ‘she would have liked to’. She gave up eventually and she did with George as well, although she still thinks there’s hope left for Fred. God knows why…”

Ron tailed off while Ginny sniggered quietly. “Yes, Ron. I remember that time when Elizabeth Millson and her husband came over for that meal Mum cooked a few years back. I seem to remember her complaining that it was something along the lines of ‘feeding time at the zoo’. The only reason why Mum thinks that there’s hope for Fred is that he was laughing too hard to actually eat anything, unlike you and George.”

“Yeah, well. I was hungry.”

Harry burst out laughing while Hermione scowled.

Harry’s laughter was short lived as a tall and wiry Eagle owl flew down onto the milk jug. The owl had a slightly bedraggled appearance, the dampness on its feathers really not helping the image. The owl’s dark eyes appeared to be infinitely deep and yet the cold stare it gave Harry was clearly one of contempt. Harry shuddered slightly.

Something tells me this owl, or its owner, isn’t exactly on my favourite person list…

Harry pulled the letter out of the owl’s beak, which promptly took off with a final, scathing glare. Frowning, Harry ripped open the letter and his face fell dark and stony as he read it. Ginny looked over Harry’s shoulder and sympathised with him at the contents.

Potter,

Be at my office at 9:45 this evening for your Occlumency lesson. I expect you to be there on time “ I want to get this over with since I have better things to do with my life than attempt to instruct you on the subtle art of Legilimency.

Professor S. Snape

“Harry?” Hermione said curiously.

“Here,” Harry said roughly, handing the letter to Hermione. “That git wants t-”

Hermione yelped in fear, dropping the letter as it burst into flame and fell smouldering onto the table.

“I guess whoever sent that didn’t want anyone else to read it then,” Ron said weakly.

“It was nothing important anyway,” Ginny said. “Snape was just saying for Harry to go to his office for an Occlumency lesson this evening at quarter to ten.”

Ron looked relieved. “Oh, I thought it would be something important. You know, like last time with You-Know-Who.”

Hermione frowned slightly. “That’s quite late; I wonder why he’d want to see Harry then?”

“That’s obvious,” Ginny said. “Snape doesn’t want anyone knowing Harry’s having the lessons, so late at night is the obvious time to do them.”

“What are you girls gibbering on about?” Ron interrupted. “Harry mate, don't think about it now, we’ve got Hufflepuff to beat before you have to worry about Snape.”

Harry nodded vaguely, his thoughts anywhere but on the game. Ron's ever increasing enthusiasm for Quidditch meant that even if the world stopprd turning, he would insist the game continued. Although Ron was concerned for Harry being with Snape again, Quidditch definitely came higher up his priority list.

Trust Snape to try and put me off this morning…

“You coming, Harry?” Ginny said from next to him.

“What?”

“Katie said we all have to be in the changing rooms by eight o’clock. It’s quarter to now and it’ll take at least ten minutes to get down there.”

“Yeah…” Harry stood up, stumbling slightly on the hem of his robes. For some reason, Harry didn’t feel at all in the mood for the game and his prickling scar wasn’t helping.

“Good luck Ron, Harry, Ginny!” Hermione called as they departed. “You’ll all be fine. Fingers crossed for an easy victory to Gryffindor!”

Secretly though, Hermione was worried that Snape’s letter had distracted Harry’s focus and she was afraid as to how the rest of the team would take to a defeat.

*~*~*~*


Harry barely heard a word of Katie’s pre match talk as he sat between Ron and Ginny in the changing rooms. It was only when Ron kicked him in the shins that he looked up.

“Harry? You coming or what?”

“Come on, Harry,” Ginny implored next to him. “Just forget about him for now, he’s not worth it.”

As Harry walked out onto the pitch, he barely even acknowledged Hufflepuff’s Seeker and, as Madam Hooch blew the whistle, Harry’s kick off wasn’t as slick as it normally was.

For nearly an hour, Harry flew forwards and backwards over the pitch marking the Hufflepuff Seeker rather than looking for the Snitch himself.

“YES! AND GINNY WEASLEY HAS SCORED AGAIN FOR GRYFFINDOR! 70 -10!”

Harry distractedly registered that Gryffindor were in the lead. No matter how much he tried to concentrate on the game, his thoughts kept drifting back to Occlumency that evening.

Why did Snape have to tell me before the match? He could have waited until later…

After around forty minutes of play, Katie signalled for time out and both teams landed on the pitch with Harry still not concentrating on the game.

“Look, well done guys for what you’ve done so far, we just need to keep working together so the other team doesn’t force use to scatter again.” Katie’s eyes were burning brightly and she looked over to Harry.

“Harry, we really could do with you catching the Snitch pretty soon. You don’t seem to be on form today but I hope you’ll focus more for the rest of the game…” she tailed off, looking both pleading and distinctly annoyed.

“I’ll try,” Harry promised as Ginny gave him a glare.

“Good. Now, Jack, I really want…”

“Come on, Harry,” Ginny hissed in his ear. “Waltzing around the pitch like it’s the first time you’ve ever sat on a broom isn’t going to win the match, is it? Look, I know you're worried about this evening with Snape, and I'd be scared witless if it was me, but can't you at least try to catch the Snitch first? Please?”

Ginny looked imploringly at Harry as she stood in front of him, her eyes silently pleading with him to concentrate. Something jarred in Harry’s mind as he took in Ginny’s scathing remark. The rest of the team were playing brilliantly but he was just milling around over the pitch not paying attention. If Gryffindor lost, it would be his fault and his insides curled with embarrassment. Ginny glanced at him again and Harry nodded to her.

“I’ll get the Snitch first, I promise,” Harry said, as Katie stopped talking to the Beaters.

“Good,” Katie said in answer, overhearing him. “In that case, ready to resume play?”

The team nodded and a few seconds later, the team was in the air.

This time, Harry started to look for the Snitch himself. As he did so, the familiar rush of adrenaline came back to him and he started to feel again the magic of Quidditch. After a further ten minutes the Hufflepuff Seeker, surprised at Harry’s change of attitude, shot into a dive. Harry followed but, as he did so, a flash of gold shot past the Gryffindor end and Harry turned sharply to follow it. The Hufflepuff Seeker was feinting and, in doing so, had missed the real Snitch.

Quickly, Harry sped after the speck of gold which soared at least a hundred feet above the game before dodging sharply and plummeting back towards the pitch. Although Harry had been closer to the Snitch than the Hufflepuff Seeker, the Snitch’s path turned and headed straight for the opposing Seeker.

“Faster,”
Harry growled at the Firebolt. “Come on…”

Fifty feet below him, Hufflepuff’s Seeker looked up and, seeing the Snitch heading for him, lay flat on his broom and headed straight for it. Everyone, including both teams, hung in the air to watch both players fly flat out towards each other. At last, Harry reached out and snatched the Snitch from the air and swerved sharply to the left to avoid his opponent.

Ginning in triumph, Harry raised his hand in the air and flew up to the rest of the team.

“Wow Harry!” Euan, the second year chaser, yelled as Harry flew up to him. “Talk about style or what!”

“Spectacular!” Ron shouted, grinning in triumph as he sped over to Harry. “That Hufflepuff Seeker nearly fell off his broom when he realised he was flying straight for you!”

As the team flew back to the ground, every member of Gryffindor came running over to the team.

“That was amazing!”

“Can you teach me to fly like that, Harry?”

“That other Seeker never stood a chance!”

“Party, Common Room, now!” Katie yelled over the cheers and, as one, everyone began to make their way back up to the castle. Ginny fought her way over to Harry, her eyes gleaming.

“It’s good to know you keep your promises,” she said mischievously. Harry smiled broadly.

“Ginny, with you, anything’s possible!”

*~*~*~*


The party in the Common Room lasted all day and well into the evening after the match. Dean, using his art skills, had made a banner showing Harry’s spectacular catch which Hermione had animated for him using a technical little charm. Harry, Ron, Neville and Seamus and headed down to the kitchens and persuaded Dobby to bring up food to Gryffindor tower which they all ate throughout the day.

It was later, at around nine o’clock that Harry first remembered his lesson with Snape and, unwillingly, he excused himself discreetly and headed out of the Portrait Hole. After the noise of the party, Harry found the castle a little too quiet and he walked downstairs to Snape’s office hoping the sooner he arrived, the sooner he’d be allowed to leave.

*~*~*~*



“So you did decide to turn up,” Snape spat nastily as Harry walked through the dungeon door at exactly nine forty five that evening. “As I told you last year, you will tell no one of what you are doing. I expect you to work hard in these lessons, which I am giving up my evenings to teach you, and I insist that you call me ‘Sir’ or ‘Professor’ at all times…”

Harry’s mind drifted off towards Gryffindor Tower and the party which was still continuing in the Common Room, despite his absence. Harry longed to go back there to celebrate but he knew Snape would keep him here for as long as he could, purely out of spite.

“You are not listening, Potter,” Snape said dangerously, drawing Harry’s attention back to him. “From now on, I expect your undivided attention for the rest of the hour. Understand?”

“Yes,” Harry muttered sulkily.

“How dare you speak to me like that. Five points from Gryffindor. I shall ask you again, do you understand?”

“Yes Sir.” Harry knew it wasn’t worth arguing with Snape over the points so he kept silent.

Snape’s lip curled into a sneer as he raised his wand. “Legilimens!”

Snape caught Harry completely unawares and started recalling memories faster than Harry could keep track of them. After about five minutes, Snape raised his wand.

“I was under the impression from the Headmaster that you had grasped some skills required for Occlumency. If that display is anything to go by, you do not have even the faintest idea on how to even start!”

“I was trying,” Harry said through gritted teeth. “I just wasn’t ready!”

Snape rolled his eyes in disgust. “Potter, are you under the impression that the Dark Lord is going to tell you what he’s about to do when he uses Legilimency?”

Harry blushed. How did Snape always make his feel like a complete idiot? Snape smirked at Harry’s embarrassment.

“So then Potter, we shall try again only this time I expect you to actually bother to put up a shield and attempt to block me. Standing there like a lemon is not going to achieve anything.”

“I am trying,” spat Harry in answer.

“Well, I expect you to try harder. Legilimens!”

Once again, Harry felt the unbearable pressure pushing down on him as he felt Snape recalling memories. As if in a nightmare, he once again felt Snape draw out the memory of the night Sirius had died. Harry furiously tried to block Snape and, for the first time, he felt himself beginning to reduce Snape’s power over him. The memory changed instantly to when Cedric was hit by Wormtail’s curse back in his fourth year.

Just as Harry tried to collect himself again, the Potions Master switched to the memory of Dumbledore telling Harry the Prophecy. For some reason, Harry felt an invisible barrier rise up in his mind causing Snape’s curse to suddenly stop. Harry looked up, both angry and astonished, with his wand clasped firmly in his hand.

Just as Harry opened his mouth to speak, he caught site of his most hated Professor. The Potion’s Master was kneeling on the floor, his wand several feet away from him. Snape looked up at Harry, his eyes shrewd and calculating.

“What did you just do, Potter?”

Harry was dumbfounded, as far as he knew he had done nothing different from usual.

“I dunno.”

Snape looked at Harry disbelievingly. “Legilimens!”

Instantly, Snape put every ounce of force he could muster behind the spell; the unyielding and unwavering pressure bearing down on Harry like a ton of bricks as he targeted Harry’s memory of the Prophecy. Again, Harry felt the uncalled for shield stop Snape’s attack effortlessly and once more, Snape was forced to stop as he fell back onto his knees. The Head of Slytherin looked up, his charcoal eyes burning into Harry’s.

“For the second time, Potter, what are you doing?”

A sudden suspicion flashed across Harry’s mind.

…memories and thoughts can only be read if the rightful owner has given their permission. For thoughts to be revealed, the owner must give permission willingly “ nothing is revealed if the permission has been forced in any way.

The Clamcelo! The orb really had worked its magic; Snape had been unable to break through the ward the Secure Pensive had made. Harry grinned in triumph.

“I used a Clamcelo, Sir,” Harry answered, watching Snape’s reaction carefully.

“And where exactly did you obtain one of those from, Potter?”

“It was a birthday present; I’ve had it for over six months now.”

“Well, it certainly is not helping your Occlumency. You cannot practice, Potter, if you continue siphoning off every memory you fear,” Snape spat, snatching his wand and standing up. For some reason, Harry thought he could detect a faint trace of jealousy in his Professor’s voice. He disregarded the thought though as Snape raised his wand and shouted “Legilimens!”

A split second before the spell hit Harry, Snape’s knees buckled for the third time. This time, however, the Potions Master’s eyes began watering in pain as his wand dropped to the floor. For the briefest of seconds, it looked as if Snape was crying until Harry noticed the unexplainably violent jerk of Snape’s left arm.

As Harry watched in surprise, his scar seared with a sharp pain which abated as suddenly as it had come. Whatever had happened with Snape, it appeared he wasn’t as lucky as Harry as he still hadn’t stood up. Whatever the reason for Snape’s collapse was this time, Harry realised it was nothing to do with Legilimency; the spell had missed him by several feet.

The only thing Harry was aware of now though, was that Snape was holding his left arm just below his elbow. As he had fallen, Snape had pulled up the sleeve of his robes and was holding his pale skin with pain glowing in his eyes. Snape dropped his right hand and, for a split second, the Dark Mark was visible burning black. Harry froze in terror.

As Harry stood motionless, his Potions Master curled forwards again and released the smallest of cries of pain. For several minutes, Snape struggled against the pain in silence before he glanced up at Harry, his face white.

“Get out, Potter,” Snape gasped. “And don’t even think of telling anyone…”

Deeply unnerved, Harry bolted out of the dungeon and left Snape alone.

Still in his office, Snape carefully stood up and reached into his wardrobe just behind his desk, pulling out an ebony coloured cloak with a hood. Using only his right arm, Snape pulled on the cloak and reached for a small silver jar by the fire. Quickly, he pulled out a handful of glittering powder and threw it in the fire.

Hogwarts’ Potions Master hesitated for a second on the threshold of the fireplace, half considering whether to tell Dumbledore what he was doing. After a moments silence, Snape turned back into the flames and disappeared without looking back. He never saw his office door open in an explosion of stars and he didn’t realise a panicked figure dashed into the room only to see the sickly green flames die down into darkness.







A/N : I thought it was about time I left a cliff hanger! I really hope you enjoyed that and, as usual, your comments are highly appreciated, hint, hint…

Also, if anyone’s got any theories on what coming next, I’d love to know. : )
Accusations by Stormy
As Snape stepped out of the fire, he glanced around at the familiar room he was now standing in. The room was dark and eerily silent except for the steady ticking of the clock on the mantle piece; a small, leather bound chair sat directly in front of a bookcase containing instructions on advanced potion making. Over in the corner, a silk covered lampshade with a wooden stand stood in the shadows. Snape flicked his wand and the light flickered on, bathing the room in a weird, hazy green glow as the light seeped through the material.

Disregarding these, Snape quickly headed over to a mahogany desk similar to the one he had at Hogwarts. Automatically, he reached over and lifted the desk’s surface to reveal a tiny compartment. The entire section was covered in thick, black velvet and in it, securely contained, was a small piece of pale cloth with two slits cut into the material. Wordlessly, Snape dragged the mask over his head and pulled the cloak’s hood up.

As he did so, his eyes fell for a second on a small box in the corner of the room. In it was contained a small amount of a fine, bluish powder which had the power to finish everything. The Potions Master involuntary glanced back at the fire, deep in thought.

How could anyone believe that the man who pulled on the cloak now was different from the man who had pulled it on originally? After the war, would anyone believe he had changed sides or would he just end up in Azkaban; either for betrayal of the Dark Lord or for being a Death Eater?

No,
he thought coldly, this war will end and whatever happens my life as a spy will be over. This time, I am not going to be on the losing side. I will honour my Master to the end and die if necessary. This time, I’ll choose the more powerful of the two…

Drawing his cloak tighter around himself, he Disapparated and arrived a moment later at Horton Tower; a desolate, abandoned folly set on the summit of a windswept hillside.

Snape, with his usual stalking, menacing stride, marched up to the rotted door and pulled to his wand.

“Ludumassium!”

A chill breeze blew through the doorway making his cloak billow out behind him. With a final glance at the Muggle village lying blissfully unaware in the shadow of the Dark Lord’s Headquarters, the Head of Slytherin House walked through the threshold of the Tower only to come face to face with the most powerful wizard alive.

*~*~*~*


Harry sprinted out of Snape’s office, heading for Gryffindor Tower. He had no wish to see the man he had been in the company of for the last hour and a half wearing a Death Eater’s mask.

“For the last time, do look where you are going Potter,” Professor McGonagall stated exasperatedly as Harry almost ran into her. “It wouldn’t hurt you to walk around the corridors you know.” Something clicked in Harry’s numbed brain.

McGonagall’s a member of the Order.

“Professor, no time to explain. Just now, in Remedial Potions, you know…” Harry deliberately rubbed his left arm and put a pointed stress on ‘Remedial Potions’.

Professor McGonagall’s widened eyes conveyed wordlessly that she understood Harry’s message. “I suggest you have an early night, Potter. Oh, and I have just needed to confiscate some Skiving Snackboxes from some third years. Please could you inform Miss Granger to come and see me immediately…”

“Yes, Professor,” Harry said quickly as his Head of House headed towards the dungeons. Harry altered his course, walking instead towards the fifth floor.

“Skiving snackbox-” said Harry quickly as he reached the stone gargoyle. He didn’t finish though as the gargoyle opened and Albus Dumbledore stepped out. He didn’t look in the least bit surprised to see Harry there.

“Harry, go to your dormitory and stay there. Do not leave Ron and Hermione for any reason and keep this to yourself, understand?”

“Yes,” Harry said, slightly annoyed that Dumbledore didn’t elaborate as he swept downstairs heading for the dungeons.

Typical,
Harry thought to himself as he headed back to the Common Room. I tell everyone what’s going on and they just leave me in the dark again…

*~*~*~*


Minerva McGonagall used her wand to open the door of Snape’s office. She arrived just in time to see the green flames dying back to their usual yellow and realised as she did so that it was too late; Severus had already gone. She turned abruptly as she heard the door being shut quietly behind her.

“I assume he has gone then,” said Dumbledore softly.

“Yes,” answered Professor McGonagall regretfully. “I just didn’t get here in time. Oh Albus, what do we do now?”

“We wait,” Dumbledore muttered, staring at the glowing fire. “There is nothing we can do now except wait.”

*~*~*~*


“Severus, you are late,” a cold voice hissed.

Snape bowed low to the figure who had spoken. “I am sorry my Lord. I was at Hogwarts, as you know, so I could not Disapparate to your side instantly. Otherwise nothing could have prevented me from being here immediately after your summons came.”

Lord Voldemort inclined his head slightly. “Very well. However, I do expect better of you next time.”

Snape bowed again and Voldemort glanced over Snape’s shoulder.

“Lucius, Bellatrix, come here,” he ordered. Instantly, possibly Voldemort’s most formidable allies came out of the shadows. “You may, perhaps, be wondering why I called you three here so soon.”

Snape glanced sideways as Bellatrix and Lucius took up their places either side of him. For the first time in his life, Snape felt the smallest sensation of fear as he stood imprisoned between the other Death Eaters and he was privately unnerved by it.

It was just over nineteen years since Snape had first pulled on a Death Eater’s mask and had the Dark Mark burnt into his arm by Voldemort himself. Nineteen long, friendless years spent as a spy either for the Dark Lord or for the Order of the Phoenix. It wasn’t that Snape was afraid of the Death Eaters standing beside him “ he just found for the first time in his life that the pressures of his double agent role was beginning to wear him down. The front he had so carefully constructed was beginning to fail at last.

Snape was brutally bought back to the present as beside him, Bellatrix nodded eagerly.

“Do not look so excited, Bella,” Voldemort hissed angrily. “It has become apparent that somewhere within my Death Eater ranks there is a spy leaking information to the enemy. I need to know who they are so they can be dealt with in the appropriate manner.”

For the first time in his long service to Lord Voldemort, Snape was glad his face was hidden by a mask. Any colour that was still in his sallow cheeks had left them with Voldemort’s words. An uncomfortable weight seemed to have dropped into his stomach.

Oh Merlin; what does he mean by ‘dealt with’…? The last time the Dark Lord said that, Nott was on the receiving end of spells the Dark Lord invented himself... God, they looked even worse than the Cruciatus Curse...

Voldemort didn’t appear to notice the spy’s deceptive thoughts; his anger was clearly focused on his scores of Death Eaters.

“I want you to find this spy and bring them to me as soon as possible. Be as rough with whoever they are as you feel necessary, although I want them coherent. I want them able to understand what the consequences of betraying me really are. Incidentally, the same applies to Potter if you ever get the opportunity with him. Both of their lives will end in the most painful way I can devise. Do you all understand?”

Simultaneously, the three Death Eaters bowed.

“Yes, Master.”

“I will, Master.”

“Of course, Master.”

“Good. Severus, a word alone,” Voldemort added.

Bellatrix and Lucius withdrew from the room leaving Severus Snape alone with the Dark Lord.

“My most loyal servant,” said Voldemort quietly. “I am relying on you to discover the identity of this spy. You are deep within the ranks of the Order of the Phoenix and close to the fool who leads them, Albus Dumbledore. Inform me as soon as possible who this traitor is although take no action yourself. I will send others so your loyalty to me goes undetected.”

Snape nodded wordlessly.

“Do you have any idea who it could be?”

“As yet, I regret to say I do not,” answered Snape curtly without hesitation. “Dumbledore has mentioned nothing in the Order meetings.”

“Very well,” breathed Voldemort. “As soon as you do know, inform me immediately. You will be greatly rewarded…”

“Thank you, Master,” Snape replied, bowing low again. “I shall return to Hogwarts now and see what I can discover.”

Voldemort nodded his snake like face and turned away from Snape twirling his wand in his pale, thin fingers. Snape turned and left the room, his menacing stride losing none of its usual swagger.

*~*~*~*


“Harry?” Ginny looked over as the Portrait Hole swung open. Ron and Hermione also looked up from the couch they were sitting on.

“It’s Snape,” whispered Harry, glancing around himself to check no one was in earshot. He needn’t have bothered though “ everyone was having far too much fun watching Seamus and Dean trying to transfigure Neville’s toad into a dragon to want to pay attention to a group of sixth years and a fifth year whispering in a corner.

“It was the Dark Mark; it burnt while I was having my Occlumency lesson just now. I’ve told McGonagall and Dumbledore already knew…”

“What do we do?” breathed Ron, leaning forwards in anticipation.

“Nothing,” Harry answered stonily. “Dumbledore said stay and this time, I’m going to do as he says. I’ve got no wish to see Snape in a Death Eater’s mask…”

*~*~*~*


As Snape stalked down the stairs, he grew tense as he heard footsteps behind him.

Seconds later, Lucius Malfoy stormed into view and walked straight up to Snape, a manic gleam burning in his eyes. After a quick glance behind him to check Voldemort was well out of earshot, Lucius drew his wand like a sword and slammed Snape against the wall with his free hand. Snape just stared at Malfoy in cold disdain.

“You know something,” Lucius accused, spitting in Snape’s covered but expressionless face. “You know something about them; more than you are letting on. You shifted when the Dark Lord said there was a spy in the ranks…”

Damn…

“I don’t know what you mean, Lucius,” Snape hissed angrily. “Why would I keep anything about the enemy’s plans to myself? I tell the Dark Lord what I know; nothing more, nothing less.”

“You are lying,” Lucius snapped. “You are a traitor, and you are definitely lying.”

Snape pulled himself out of Lucius’ vice like grip and stepped away from the wall.

“Trying to get in the Dark Lord’s good books, are we? By deluding yourself you know the identity of this traitor? Ever since you lost the Prophecy to a stupid teenage boy, you have found a good deal of the Dark Lord’s trust in you has gone. You know you now have to work your way back up his ranks to return to your former level! No wonder the Dark Lord is angry with you; you couldn’t even beat your son’s classmate prop-”

He couldn’t finish his sentence as Lucius raised his wand and a jet of icy blue light shot from the end hitting Snape straight in the chest. The spell slammed Snape once again into the wall although this time the Potion’s Master felt his shoulder grate out of position and the bone give a sickening crunch as it made contact with the stone.

“You fool,” said Malfoy murderously. “You will pay for your disloyalty. I dread to think what the Dark Lord would do if he caught a trusted Death Eater double crossing him…”

Snape, whose eyes had flashed momentarily from the pain in his arm, glared coldly at Malfoy.

“Then I suggest, Lucius, that you find out who this spy is rather than making ludicrous guesses. The Dark Lord is not going to appreciate you accusing a loyal servant of such a treacherous crime. I suggest you become certain of your claims before you start reporting unsupported guesses to the Dark Lord. I am certain he will not take kindly to misinformation…”

Without another word, Snape turned around and walked out of Horton Tower, the pain in his shoulder increasing with every step he took. Before his mind became too engulfed by pain, Severus Snape Disapparated arriving almost instantly back to where he had originally departed from.

*~*~*~*


“Albus, where is he?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“I don’t know,” Dumbledore answered. “He’s been gone nearly an hour and if he doesn’t return soon I’m going to inform the rest of the Order.”

The shadows in Snape’s office grew deeper as the fire burnt down into dying embers.

*~*~*~*


Carefully, Snape pulled off his mask and placed it back into the secret compartment in his desk. He was well aware that he needed to return to his house every time the Dark Lord summoned him although it never ceased to annoy him. If a student found the mask, too many awkward questions would be raised and Snape couldn’t risk that happening.

Damn!

Snape cursed again as his arm gave another jolt of pain. That bloody Lucius Malfoy…

Carefully, Snape half dragged himself over to the fireplace and pulled a handful of Floo powder from the jar.

“Hog…warts…” he gasped as he threw the powder into the fire. He grimaced in pain as his left shoulder struck the side of the chimney. More than anything, the Potions Master sincerely hoped his office would be empty when he returned. At least he could collect his thoughts before he went to see the rest of the Order to inform them of what had just happened.

The only problem was, he was about to be bitterly disappointed.

As he stepped out of the fire, he came face to face with none other than Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall.

*~*~*~*


“Severus?” Dumbledore said sharply as Snape stepped out of the fire.

“Yes?” Snape snapped as he stared at the Headmaster, who looked slightly taken aback by the unfriendly answer.

“I am here to find out what possessed you to leave this castle, on Voldemort’s instructions none the less, and not inform anyone before hand what was happening.”

Snape just glared in response. “I wasn’t aware I had to inform you of every move I took.”

Professor McGonagall looked horror struck. “Severus!”

Snape rounded on her. “And where do you think you fit into this whole equation?” he spat nastily before wincing in pain and reaching up to tenderly touch his swollen shoulder.

“Severus,” Dumbledore repeated as he stepped between the two Heads of House. “I suggest you go up to Madam Pomfrey. Your shoulder looks as if it has been dislocated and the bone is possibly broken. You can tell her I have requested she asks no questions.”

“I’ll live,” answered Snape flatly before looking away from both people in his office, his thoughts drifting back to Voldemort’s words. “I need to know who they are so they can be dealt with in the appropriate manner…”

“Severus?” Dumbledore prompted gently.

“The Dark Lord,” Snape muttered after a few seconds silence. “He knows there is a spy in his ranks and has set Bellatrix Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy the task of dealing with the traitor when the spy’s identity is discovered. He has instructed me to find out who the spy is. Lucius Malfoy is suspicious of me and it will not be long before the secret is out. When it is, the Dark Lord will undoubtedly kill me.”

For the first time in his life, Albus Dumbledore appeared to be lost for words.










A/N: One of my favourite chapters “ I hope you enjoyed it!

Just in case anyone’s interested, Horton Tower is a real place and if you want to see what it’s like, go to:

www.follies.btinternet.co.uk/hortontxt.html

I do not own the site, (obviously), but it does give a couple of good pictures!

“Ludumassium” is from the Latin “ludum” meaning “to open”

As always, please let me know your opinions and thanks to everyone who has reviewed my previous chapters. ~ Stormy x
A Difficult Decision by Stormy
When Harry awoke the next morning, he couldn’t remember why he felt so uneasy. A few seconds later, everything came back to him and he sat up instantly.

“Snape?!”

Ron looked over from his four poster bed as was he was pulling his socks on. He looked slightly amused at Harry’s outburst.

“That’s nice, Harry, it’s good to see you waking up in such a good mood after the match. Just please remind me next time we have an argument; I’ll tell Ginny that the first thing you think about in the mornings isn’t her but the git who gives you detention twice a week.”

“Very funny, Ron. What happened to Snape?”

Ron gave Harry an incredulous look. “How am I supposed to know? You said last night that Snape went running off to You-Know-Who and that was it. Look, I know he is a Death Eater, was a Death Eater,” he corrected quickly as Harry shot him a warning look. “But I really dunno what you’re so worried about. I mean, you keep saying that you wish Snape would just die or something anyway…” he said, only half jokingly.

Harry put his head in his hands.

“Come on, Harry,” Ron said bracingly. “Let’s go down to breakfast. You’ve got Snape first thing anyway, haven’t you, so you’ll see him then. Just ask him if you’re that worried. I can’t say I am though; good riddance to bad rubbish if you ask me.”

Harry walked downstairs as soon as he’d changed and ignored the ‘well done’ calls from the other Gryffindors he past. As he walked out of the portrait hole, Ginny caught up with him and held his hand, squeezing it in gentle comfort. She at least seemed to respect Harry’s disquiet and he was grateful for it. It wasn’t exactly comforting to know that the man he had spent two hours alone with had spent the night negotiating with the person Harry was destined to kill.

Harry jumped nervously, the dead weight of the Prophecy dragging at his conscience. Deep down, Harry knew he’d have to reveal its contents to someone soon. The question was, who to and when?

One thing’s certain,
Harry thought bitterly. It sure as heck isn’t going to be Snape.

“All right there, Harry?” Ginny said softly, interrupting Harry’s dejected thoughts. “Come on, at least you won’t have Occlumency today, which can only be a good thing. Let’s go and get some breakfast or something. What are you going to have to drink?”

Harry walked downstairs without answering, his thoughts a long way from just whether he’d have apple or orange juice with his scrambled eggs.

*~*~*~*


“Sit down,” Snape said coldly when Harry and Hermione walked into Snape’s dungeon. Snape didn’t look at Harry, who was casting him curious, and slightly alarmed, glances.

“Today, I expect you all to complete your colour change potion. Start now.”

Snape walked over to his desk and sat down, pulling out his brown quill and starting to write something on a piece of parchment. Harry, as soon as he’d got his ingredients, sat down and focused on trying to talk to Snape through Legilimency. It still wasn’t easy for him, especially since it was purely self taught.

Professor? Ummmm, what hap-

Shut up, Potter. This has nothing to do with your Chameleon Potion.

But…

For the second time, Potter; for once keep your over inflated ego out of where it doesn’t belong.

Harry felt angry, his temper started to boil as he glared at the Potions Master in hatred. Snape, however, didn’t look up and just continued writing on the parchment.

What happened last night? You disappear off on Voldemort’s instruct-

This is the last time I will tell you, Potter; do not say the Dark Lord’s name. What happened last night is of none of your concern.

What am I supposed to think? The Dark Mark on your arm burns and you run off to wherever he is currently wreaking havoc during the middle of an Occlumency lesson, in the middle of the night too. What did he get you to do this time? Kill a couple of Muggles or something?

Harry waited but Snape didn’t answer. Harry coughed pointedly but Snape didn’t even react as if he had heard him.

Sir?

This time, Harry felt as if a strong, hard layer was between him and Snape. Hesitantly, Harry tried again. No matter how hard he tried, he found he couldn’t break through Snape’s Occlumency defence. Harry cursed under his breath in irritation.

Git… As Ron said earlier, why the hell don’t you ‘just die’ and get out of my life forever…

Snape continued to write on the parchment, his hand never pausing as he penned out words in glistening black ink.

By the end of the lesson, Harry’s potion was much too runny and the colour change was almost non existent. He put a drop onto his quill and succeeded in dyeing the white a slightly creamy, pale blue. He shifted slightly as Hermione tested her potion and her quill turned a vivid, glowing green.

Harry squared his shoulders and tried to stare in Snape’s eyes as he walked between the rows, looking at everyone’s efforts. Snape avoided Harry’s gaze annoyingly easily but, as Snape approached him, Harry once again tried to use his Legilimency to talk to his least favourite Professor. Snape just blocked Harry effortlessly.

“A zero, Mr Giles,” Snape said maliciously as he looked at one of the Ravenclaw’s concoction while simultaneously blocking Harry. “A first year could have done better.”

Harry subconsciously prepared himself for Snape’s lashing comments as he approached his and Hermione’s table. It was easily the worst potion he had made for a long time; Hermione gave him a quick, sympathetic look as Snape approached them.

“It could have been worse, Miss Granger,” Snape said with his usual sneer, meaning he could find nothing to criticise. “And as for Potter…” Snape looked into Harry’s eyes, his glare more icy and penetrating than it had ever been previously. Unwillingly, Harry recoiled away, trying to break Snape’s unforgiving eye contact. Snape wouldn’t let him.

For your information, the Dark Lord is aware there is a spy in his ranks. Your wish that I will ‘just die’, as you put it so delicately earlier, will probably come true soon enough.

Snape walked away, leaving a blushing Harry completely dumbfounded behind him.

“Harry?” Hermione said quietly from beside him. “Harry, what’s up?”

Harry shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Legilimency again. Snape said… forget it. Just leave it, all right? It’s not my place to say anything…” Harry muttered, stumbling over the words.

Harry was both surprised and relieved when Hermione nodded without argument. “Well, at least you know whatever happened, which is better than nothing. It must be hard, you know, doing what he does…”

They both looked up in time to see Snape staring at Harry, a faint glimmer of a deeply concealed emotion brightening his usually dark eyes. Slightly unnerved, Harry stood up to leave; Hermione did the same. It was only as Hermione left that a strange, disconcerting thought occurred to her. For a split second, she had been almost certain that Snape’s gaze held a possible trace of an uneasy, guarded, respect.

*~*~*~*


At lunchtime, Ginny came over to Harry, who was absentmindedly fiddling with his spaghetti.

“Harry? You all right?” she asked, slipping her arm around Harry.

“Yeah,” he answered, leaning over to give her a fleeting kiss. “Just a bit, you know, distracted.”

“That’s what I thought you’d say, so I’ve got a suggestion. How about we go into Hogsmeade tomorrow? It’s a day off anyway and there’s a trip organised. What do you think?”

Harry looked into Ginny’s dark brown eyes and smiled brightly. “I’d love to.”

“I know you would, that’s why I suggested it,” she answered before glancing at her watch. “Oh no, I’ve got to run. I’ve got Transfiguration next and the bell’s just about to go. See you at dinner!”

“Yeah, see you later,” Harry called to her rapidly departing figure. Distractedly, Harry headed over to the library since he had a free lesson and whiled away the next three hours looking up new hexes for the DA.

*~*~*~*


Harry sat on his bed later that evening, his Clamcelo in his hand, as he recited the memory of what Snape had told him during Potions. A few seconds later, the door to the dormitory banged open and Ron walked in.

“Umm, Harry? What the heck are you doing?”

Harry jumped and looked up. He hadn’t realised Ron would be coming upstairs so soon.

“Nothing,” Harry said evasively. “Just stuff with the Clamcelo…” He blushed as Ron dropped his school bag onto the floor with a loud bang.

Damn,
Harry mentally cursed himself. Why did I have to let slip about the Clamcelo?

“You’ve got a Clamcelo?” Ron said in wide eyed surprise, his voice low.

“Yeah, Dumbledore gave it to me for my birthday…”

“Blimey, Harry,” Ron said weakly, coming over to sit next to him. “Dumbledore must really like you…”

“Why?” Harry answered uneasily. “I mean, it was just a birthday present…”

“Can I have a look at it?”

Hesitantly, Harry opened his hand to reveal the orb. Ron let out a low whistle.

“I didn’t think I’d ever get to see one of them. I think Bill said there are only about a dozen still around, the others got lost or broken or something. You just can’t get hold of them; I only know a bit about them because Charlie tried to get one for Mum a few years back but he gave up in the end. They’re just too rare, not to mention outrageously valuable. Malfoy couldn’t afford one…” he added with a satisfied smirk.

Harry shifted uncomfortably. “When you say outrageously valuable…?”

“Bill, you know, with his work with Gringotts as a curse breaker, said he saw one once. It was a couple of weeks after we went to Egypt in third year actually or he would have shown us it. Only the guy who put that curse on his tomb so Muggles grew extra heads and stuff had one “ none of the other Egyptian king people could get one.”

Harry blushed as Ron stared enviously at the small, marble like ball in his best friend’s hand. “Who knows you’ve got one?”

“No one, apart from you, Dumbledore and Snape.”

“Snape? What the hell did you tell him for?”

“I didn’t tell him,” Harry said quietly. “He sort of found out I suppose, during an Occlumency lesson. I wasn’t planning on telling anyone at all.”

Ron shrugged understandingly, still gazing at the Clamcelo. “Fair enough. You coming downstairs again or are you going to go to bed?”

“I think I’ll stay here,” Harry answered. “I’m a bit tired…”

Ron, realising Harry wanted to be left alone, retreated towards the door but not before giving him a slightly worried look. “See you in the morning, then.”

Nodding gratefully, Harry pulled his hangings shut and fell back onto his pillows. He was asleep within seconds.

*~*~*~*


“Lucius, I believe you have some information for me.”

He looked down and stared at the figure that was kneeling at his feet. He smiled in amusement as the Death Eater grovelled on the stone flagged floor of the Riddle House.

“Yes, my Lord.”

“And?” he sneered in annoyance as Malfoy said nothing.

“I have reason to believe I know the identity of the traitor.”

“And who, exactly, is this Lucius?” He gripped his wand tightly with his long, pale fingers, anticipation coursing through him.

“Severus Snape, my Lord.”

“Crucio!”

Lucius Malfoy writhed and shrieked from the floor, his white blond hair escaping from behind his mask.

“You fool,” he spat, anger swelling inside him as he lifted his wand. “Severus Snape is my most loyal Death Eater. He would not betray me.”

“But, my Lord, I found…”

“That is enough,” he snarled. “Never, ever accuse my spy again. He is more loyal than you ever could be. Now leave me, I expect you to prove your worth before you come up with any more ridiculous suggestions. It would be more sensible if you came up with some tale saying Severus was actually a spy for the Order of the Phoenix…”

Bowing and grovelling, Lucius Malfoy retreated from the room. Nagini, his pet serpent, slithered over to him.

“My beloved Nagini,” Voldemort hissed in Parseltongue. “Bring Nott here; his service to me has been doubtful of late, I feel his tie to my intentions needs to be reinforced. As for Lucius, you cannot have him yet. You will have your chance in the end. His fall in favour at the Ministry has meant his worth to me is less than it was...”

Harry woke up, sweating and shaking, with his scar burning and stabbing with pain. He vowed silently to the darkness that he would never reveal to Snape just quite how close he was to being discovered.








AN/ Ok, not the world’s longest chapter but I hope you enjoyed it all the same. As always, thanks to everyone who’s been reviewing…!
Hogsmeade by Stormy
The following morning, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny made their way down the sloping, breezy lawns into Hogsmeade Village. The sun was shining casting a million diamonds on the surface of the lake and the Giant Squid, clearly visible, looked as if he was trying to tie his tentacles in a knot.

“Mental, that thing is…” Ron muttered as he looked at the greyish creature.

Ginny walked next to Harry, hand in hand, smiling broadly. It had been just over four months since they had first started being seen as an ‘item’ and in that time, Harry’s fan club had seemed to have been thoroughly depressed and irritated with Ginny. Ginny had been on the receiving end of some quite nasty threats but she just laughed them off, usually telling the sender to find their own boyfriend and stop ogling after something they couldn’t have.

Hermione was looking equally happy since Ron had finally curbed a little of his Quidditch enthusiasm to spend extra time with her. True, their conversations often ended up with talk about broomsticks or Quidditch teams, but the start of the conversation would be about school, the library or something Hermione enjoyed. Both Harry and Ginny were relieved that Ron and Hermione had finally found the happy medium between the two of them and they openly enjoyed the reduced bickering between the two.

“I’ve got a suggestion,” Hermione said suddenly from next to Ron. “How about if we spend the morning together and then if we split up for a little while before meeting up in the Three Broomsticks?”

“What, you mean just me and you? On our own? In Hogsmeade?” Ron answered quickly. Hermione rolled her eyes and Ginny giggled at her brother’s naivety. Even Harry smiled as he squeezed Ginny’s hand tighter; Ron instantly turned a darker shade of red than his hair.

*~*~*~*


“There’s meant to be a new shop in Hogsmeade, isn’t there?” Harry asked as they left Hogwarts’ grounds ten minutes later.

“Yes,” Hermione answered instantly. “It’s where Madam Puddifoot’s used to be, I think.”

“Good riddance,” Harry muttered under his breath causing Hermione to look at him with a slightly raised eyebrow. Harry blushed slightly and squeezed Ginny’s hand again.

Ron led the way through the winding streets of Hogsmeade but froze as he finally caught sight of the new business. Hermione, Harry and Ginny did the same.

A large sign, at least twenty feet long and a vivid, luminous orange was hanging above the shop. Students were spilling out of its doors; the shop itself was packed with what looked like every member of Hogwarts who were old enough to visit the village.

“Blimey,” Ron muttered. “I knew they were doing well, but affording a place in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade…”

Ginny had her mouth open as she read the sign:

WEASLEYS’ WIZARD WHEEZES
Premises include Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade Village
Mail ordering available.

Even Hermione had the grace to look impressed despite her annoyance as to what the twins had chosen to take as their career path.

“Hey little bro!” Fred yelled over the noise in the shop as Harry, Ron, Ginny and, despite her obvious disapproval, Hermione finally managed to squeeze into the shop.

“Fred, George!” Ron shouted back over the noise as the second Weasley twin looked up. “How come you got a place here?”

George started saying something but gave up when he couldn’t be heard over the noise. He beckoned the four over to him.

“Hi guys! You like our new premises?”

“Too right,” Ron answered, looking awestruck. “How come you got a place up here?”

“Business was booming down at Diagon Alley so we thought we’d expend a bit,” Fred answered as he served Dean Thomas. “We’ve got Lee Jordan running the main shop back in London. He finally gave up on his original plan to become a member of the Magical Law Enforcement. The Ministry seemed to think that he didn’t have the right attitude…”

“Something along the lines that Lee said he wanted to work there so he could break the law without getting into trouble…” George added with a smirk. “I don’t think that Arnold White, the guy who ran his interview, saw the funny side of it.”

Harry, Ginny and Ron spent a good two hours looking around the Weasleys’ shop, which was near on identical to the one in Diagon Alley. The twins had invented something remarkably similar to a Muggle whoopee cushion except it came complete with the smell and a cloud of sickly green gas. Hermione just scowled in irritation while Harry and Ron exploded with laughter. A few minutes later, Hermione walked outside muttering about needing to buy a new Transfiguration book, causing Ron to cringe.

The twins had also spent a lot of time developing their fireworks and gave Harry a few to try once it got dark. One of them was meant to follow a chosen person around for up to an hour making a huge explosion every time they spoke. Fred and George stubbornly denied they’d copied the idea off Peeves, who had done something remarkably similar to Dolores Umbridge the year before.

Ron was especially pleased with the ‘Dangerous Draughts’ “ a magical combination of both Exploding Snap and Wizards Chess which the twins had developed purely for Ron. Just before they left the shop with all their purchases, Fred whispered something to Ron and handed him something while casting worried looks around the shop for Hermione. A few seconds later, Harry felt a piece of leathery string forced into his hand and heard George hiss something in his ear.

“Harry. Brand new, just developed yesterday. We’re not going to sell them because we don’t want Mum to find out…”

Harry smiled; Mrs Weasley still managed to exert some form of control over her children. “What are they?” he whispered back.

“Extraterrestrial Extendable Ears,” George answered quietly. “They can’t be stopped by Impermeable charms. We thought they could be useful…”

Grinning mischievously, George walked over to Fred, Ginny and Ron as Harry put the developed Extendable Ears into his bag.

“Now then, you young Weasleys…”

“…and that includes you Harry, in case you were wondering…”

“…definitely. You’re one of us now…”

“…except you don’t have red hair…”

“… But you’ve certainly got the Weasley temper…”

“… Mind you behave like good, respectable Prefects. We wouldn’t want you getting into trouble…”

“… Use your brains though and you won’t get into trouble in the first place…”

George smirked. “Don’t tell Hermione. Or Mum,” he added as an afterthought.

“Have fun,” Fred added with a wink.

Laughing, Harry, Ron and Ginny headed outside and walked over to the bookshop and Harry and Ginny left Ron to extract Hermione from whatever volume she was engrossed in.

*~*~*~*


Holding hands, Harry and Ginny walked down the sunlit alleys that made up Hogsmeade. The small, thatched rooftops seemed to give the village a timeless quality which Harry had barely acknowledged before. Looking over at Ginny, he smiled as the rays of light filtered down onto her red Weasley hair, making it almost glow with a fiery brilliance.

She really is beautiful…
Harry thought absentmindedly.

“Ummmm, Planet Earth calling Harry Potter! Earth to Harry! Anyone at home?!”

“What?”

Ginny laughed. “You zoned out there for a minute. I said what do you want to do now? We’ve got an hour or so before we have to meet Ron and Hermione in the Three Broomsticks…” She tailed off, looking for an idea.

“How about just go for a walk?” Harry suggested. “You know, up to the edge of the village and back?”

“I’d love to,” Ginny answered giving him a quick, comforting hug.

After a few minutes of walking in silence, Ginny looked quizzically at Harry and took a deep breath. “Are you ok, Harry? You just don’t seem to have been your normal self recently.”

“I’m f…”

“Harry James Potter, do not start that again.”

“It’s just,” Harry began, looking awkward. “Oh, I don’t know, I just seem to always be left out of whatever the Order’s doing. I don’t know what’s going on with Voldemort but he hasn’t done anything major for weeks. That means he’s planning something. I’m scared, Ginny,” Harry whispered, tears starting to swell in his green eyes. “Last time it was Sirius, what if it’s Ron, or Hermione, or you, next time?”

Ginny draped her arm around Harry in comfort. “Do you think I’ve got any intention of leaving you? You need someone with my brains to think up the best ways to annoy Ron, so don’t worry about me going yet,” she answered, trying to make light of the situation.

“But Voldemort's…”

“He’s what, Harry?” Ginny said calmly. “A miserable old wart with a brain even smaller than Ron’s? About as ferocious as Bill when he wakes up with a hangover? Come on, Harry, don’t let that idiot run you down; it’s what he wants.”

Harry gaped at the small, petite Weasley standing determinedly next to him.

“Aren’t you scared?” Harry whispered.

“Yes, I am,” Ginny answered without hesitation. “But don’t you remember what you said back at Grimmauld Place in the summer? ‘If Voldemort can govern us by fear, we’ve as good as lost the war already; before we’ve even started.’ I hadn’t forgotten what you said because you were right, Harry. We’ve all got to live now and face what will come together. When that time comes.”

Harry stopped and faced Ginny, a flicker of hope and understanding lighting up his sombre face.

“You know what, Ginny? I’ve just understood why I love you,” he said before pulling her into a hug.

*~*~*~*


“You two had a nice time?” Hermione asked as Ginny and Harry walked through the door of the Three Broomsticks an hour later.

“The answer’s yes,” Ron said instantly as he looked at Harry. “Harry hasn’t looked like that since Cho kissed him after that DA meeting last year.”

Ginny threw Ron a reproving glare while Harry blushed.

“What do you want to drink, Hermione?” Ginny asked, pointedly ignoring her brother.

“Butterbeer, please Ginny.”

“Harry?”

“Same please.”

“Hey, what about me?!” Ron yelled, causing several people to turn around and stare as his younger sister walked away towards the bar. Harry grinned again as he heard Ron muttering to himself under his breath as he stood up and followed Ginny up to the bar.

“Bloody sisters. Who wanted one, anyway…?”

“So then, Harry. You had a good time with Ginny then?”

Harry turned back to face Hermione, blushing again. “Yeah, I enjoyed it.”

Hermione smiled. “She’s waited years for you to notice her, you know.”

“What? No, she’s been out with loads of people. She doesn’t, I mean didn’t, fancy me. Umm, did she?” Harry added, sounding uncertain.

Hermione smiled as Ginny came back over clutching four Butterbeers, an annoyed Ron following her.

“She fancied you the first time she ever saw you, Harry. And nothing has ever, or will ever, change that.”

Harry still was just trying to register fully what Hermione had said when Ginny bent down and gave him a hug while shooting a pionted glare at Ron. Harry blushed again as he caught sight of Hermione throwing him a knowing, disbelieving look.

“Urgh, how have you managed to put up with him,” Ginny indicated the fuming Ron with her finger as she pulled away from Harry, “for the last six years? At least I’ve never had to share a room with him…”

Ron scowled. “Harry hasn’t minded though, has he,” Ron suddenly went a shade paler as he looked at Harry, who was trying to fight down a laugh. “Er, you haven’t minded, have you?”

Harry smiled as he put an arm around Ginny. “No, I haven’t minded. Shame about Neville, Dean and Seamus though…”

Ginny sniggered as Ron suddenly looked terrified.






A/N : Sorry that chapter wasn’t very long but I’m trying to negotiate writing this and doing revision for GCSE exams at the same time. Updates should be coming faster again though as the next three chapters are now written!

Once again, sorry for the delay on updates but I’d love to know what you all think :)

~ Stormy x
A Second Departure by Stormy
It was over a month since the last Hogsmeade weekend and everyone in the castle was starting to feel the anticipation only a Quidditch match could bring. Ravenclaw had lost against Hufflepuff, putting them at the bottom of the league table, much to Cho’s disgust. Both Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had been beaten by Gryffindor and Slytherin so the final, as normal, was between green and gold.

Voldemort had been active in the respect that there had been daily reports of murders and tortures but nothing on any great scale. The lack of serious attacks made all the staff, plus Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione, nervous.

“I don’t like this,” Ron muttered one evening in the Common Room. “He’s been too quiet, for too long.”

Harry looked away, staring into the fire deep in thought.

“But this may mean that You-Know-Who’s finally gone to ground, for good,” Ginny answered hopefully, trying to convince herself more than anyone else.

“He’ll never give up, Ginny,” Harry said suddenly, his voice sounding full of bitterness. “He won’t give up until he’s conquered everyone, or someone conquers him.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “How come you are suddenly so sure?”

“Because…” Harry stopped. He just couldn’t bring himself to see his friends’ reactions when he revealed the contents of the Prophecy to them. The burden he was carrying with him seemed to get heavier by the day and it was starting to wear him down.

“Because…?” Ron continued slowly, looking at Harry expectantly for an answer.

“Never mind,” Harry muttered. “Just… just he won’t, that’s all.”

Ginny laid her hand on Harry’s knee. “You’ll tell us one day, Harry, won’t you. Please?” she added pleadingly.

Harry nodded, his voice coming out in a throaty whisper. “Yes, Ginny. I’ll tell you all one day but… not yet. Soon. But not yet.”

*~*~*~*


“He’s plotting something,” Snape said uncomfortably as he stood in front of Dumbledore later that same evening. Dumbledore said nothing; he was surveying the Potions Master over his entwined fingers, his blue eyes holding none of their usual twinkle as he surveyed the spy intently.

“Planning what, exactly, Severus?” Dumbledore asked calmly.

Snape rubbed his left forearm unconsciously. “I do not know. He’s been too… quiet, recently. He has not told me anything of these plans; it appears he does not trust me.”

“Then we must do what we can. I shall inform the Order and tell them to be additionally vigilant. Voldemort, although he has gained control of Azkaban, will not be content for long.”

Snape narrowed his eyes in anger. “Since when did the Dark Lord gain control of Azkaban? I was under the impression the Aurors still held control. The Dementors left Ministry control months ago.”

“Alas, I am afraid you are wrong, Severus.” Dumbledore looked old and tired as Snape glared at him. “Cornelius Fudge kept the information quiet; he was afraid of the widespread panic which will undoubtedly ensue when the information does eventually reach the wider Wizarding community. The Aurors were forced to surrender their hold of Azkaban three days after Voldemort requested that you discovered the identity of the Order’s spy,” Dumbledore said quietly as the Potions Master bared his teeth in anger.

“And you never told me?”

“Severus, both you and I know it is too dangerous for you to know everything.” Dumbledore levelled his gaze to the Head of Slytherin, who was seething with anger.

“So,”
Snape snarled viciously. “This is the way you intend to use me, is it? I go out there, tell you as much as I can about the Dark Lord, and all I get in return is more lies.”

“Severus,” Dumbledore began before Snape cut him off, his sallow face twisting in anger.

“From now on, I will do this my way,” he spat, his black eyes burning with icy fire.

The Potions Master turned around and walked out of the office, slamming the door behind him.

*~*~*~*


The bright sunshine and sapphire skies had been replaced with heavy, dense clouds with the accompanying, threatening growls of thunder on the morning of the Quidditch final. Harry looked slightly nervously at the enchanted ceiling; Ron did the same.

“Not exactly ideal conditions mate,” Ron commented, noticing Harry’s apprehensive look. “But at least it’s better than the weather of that Hufflepuff game in your third year. What is it with Hogwarts and lousy weather on Quidditch days? It’s been fabulous weather all week!”

“Yeah,” Harry answered dazedly. “But, I dunno, something doesn’t feel right today…”

“That’s just nerves,” Hermione said instantly, a slice of toast in her hand. “It’s normal to feel like this “ it makes you play better if you get the adrenaline rush. It’s because your body prepares you for ‘fight of flight’; I mean, like you natural survival instinct. If you go past that stage though, your play deteriorates because of…”

“So Harry’ll be fine then,” Ginny interrupted as she walked into the Great Hall. “If it’s to do with survival, Harry’s a professional. No matter what you do to him, he always bounces back. Pass the muffins, Ron.”

Harry smiled, although barely, as Ginny took a muffin off the plate Ron offered her. A feeling of gloom had settled over him and even Ginny’s gentle arm around his shoulders hardly quietened his nerves. Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherin team sat opposite them laughing and pointing, their Nimbus 2001s lying next to them.

“I’ll see you on the pitch,” he muttered, before standing up and walking out of the Hall. Ron, Hermione and Ginny staring concernedly after him while Malfoy and his cronies laughed and jeered.

“You’ll need you luck today, Scar head! Try and refrain from daydreaming for the first hour, like you did in your last game. I’d at least like some competition!”

Harry kept on walking, ignoring Malfoy’s taunt. Hermione scowled while both Ron and Ginny raised two fingers and showed them in Malfoy’s direction.

After a few minutes, Katie Bell walked over to the remaining two members of the team in the Great Hall while glaring over at the Slytherin table.

“Gits. They won’t be so cheery later when we thrash them,” Katie said confidently. “Ron, Ginny, I’ll be down on the pitch in a couple of minutes. Do you want to head on down there? And where’s Harry?”

“He’s…”

“…already gone down to the pitch,” Hermione finished as Ron hesitated. Katie raised an eyebrow.

“I’ll see you on the pitch then.” She walked out as Ron and Ginny stood up.

“We’d better go,” Ginny said, looking at Hermione, who nodded understandingly.

“Good luck. With… everything.”

Both Ron and Ginny nodded in unspoken answer and headed down to the Quidditch Pitch while the clouds broke apart revealing the sparkling sunlight and strips of the creamy blue sky.

*~*~*~*


Harry was nervous as he sat in the changing rooms. The lurking feeling of tension hung over him like a suffocating shroud.

Now I know what being attacked by a Lethifold feels like…

“Harry?”

Ron and Ginny walked into the changing rooms and sat down on either side of him, looking concerned.

“Are you all right? Only you’ve seemed really down recently.”

Harry nodded and, as he did so, a wave of determination coursed through him. “Yeah, I’m ok now. I’m just going to forget about everything for a while. You’re right Ginny, with what you said in Hogsmeade. Let’s go and whip Malfoy’s backside “ it still amazes me that he got on the team in the first place.”

Ginny and Ron exchanged surprised but relived glances at Harry words while the rest of the team traipsed into the changing rooms looking nervous but excited. Ron gave Harry a slap on the back.

“Yeah, shame money doesn’t buy brains or Malfoy’d actually be quite clever.”

Both Harry and Ginny laughed; they could always count on Ron for his unwavering focus just before a match and it rubbed off on the team. There was no doubt about it, Ron was one of the teams most valuable members now.

“Everyone ready then?” Katie asked, standing in front of the Gryffindor team with a confident look spread determinedly over her face. “We’ve got to win this one “ Malfoy’s been getting cockier all weak, I think it’s about time we wiped that arrogant smirk off his face.”

“Hear, hear!” Jack added as Katie paused for breath. “The idiot spent half of last week trying to curse me every time he passed me in the corridor. He said something about I couldn’t hit a beach ball with a tennis racquet, let alone a Bludger with one of the bats.”

Euan sniggered. “And you hexed him into oblivion, right?”

“No,” Jack answered with a straight face. “I just told him that it was a shame they didn’t let animals on the Slytherin team. I told him that he’d otherwise be replaced by a ferret. He left me alone after that; can’t imagine why...”

“Ahem,” Katie interrupted, trying to look annoyed but losing the effect completely as the corners of her mouth twitched. “Let’s go and thrash them then. I know we can, we’ve got the superior team. Hopefully the weather is going to hold out “ we’ve played too many matches in the rain these last few years. Lions for the cup!”

With a final cheer, the team stood up and walked onto the pitch. Harry paused and gave Ginny a wide smile.

“Let’s go get ‘em,” Ginny said with a grin, trying to imitate Katie’s voice. “I’ve waited weeks to wipe that smirk off his face.”

Madam Hooch stood between both teams, her broom in one hand, a whistle in the other. “I want a nice, fair game. And that includes you two,” she added sternly as Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles at Euan, who recoiled slightly.

Harry glared at Malfoy who was looking equally determined.

“Three… two… one…” Fifteen brooms rose into the air on Madam Hooch’s whistle and Ginny snatched the Quaffle, flying determinedly towards the Slytherin goal posts.

Harry sped off towards the Gryffindor end while Malfoy tailed him. After fifteen fast, furious minutes, the score was 40 : 20 to Gryffindor but the Slytherin Chasers were beginning to close the gap.

“…Come on Ron, save it…?! Damn, forty thirty to Gryffindor, and it’s Katie Bell for Gryffindor in possession…”

Harry flew away towards the centre of the pitch, leaving Malfoy searching over the Gryffindor end. He was keeping half an ear on the score but most of his concentration was on searching for the Snitch. Harry hesitated for a second as he caught a flash of gold below him until he realised it was only Katie’s earring.

Damn…

The oppressive clouds that hung lazily in the sky seemed to have got progressively darker. Maybe Harry was imagining it but he felt they had an almost sinister look to them.

“Harry!” came Katie’s anguished yell as Ginny scored again for Gryffindor. “Harry, look up!”

Twisting his head round, barely thirty feet above him the Golden Snitch was hovering in the air. As if it had known Harry had seen it, the Snitch shot away into the clouds. Without looking back, Harry followed it at breakneck speed. As he went into the cloud itself, Harry felt a deep coldness sweep over his body. No, not now… he pleaded. Trying desperately to turn back, he swerved and a jet of blue light smashed into his broom. Within seconds, Harry himself was struck but this time it was with yellow light.

Harry wasn’t sure what spell he’d been struck with but he knew what the Firebolt had been hit by “ although his broom incorporated an unbreakable breaking charm, the steering could, theoretically, be interfered with. The Firebolt swerved upwards, away from Hogwarts and towards the south. Harry didn’t know why, but he couldn’t seem to remember how to stop the Firebolt either. If anything, he seemed to be making it go faster. Death Eaters began to swarm around him, Apparating on brooms within the clouds.

That means I’m outside of Hogwarts. Merlin only knows what spell they got me with…

Without understanding why, Harry drew out his wand and his Stag shot away from him, carrying just one simple word.

Before he could do or think anything else, a Death Eater grabbed his wand arm and Disapparated, taking Harry with him. Barely five seconds later, a jet of dazzling, brilliantly white light struck the tail of the Firebolt and it swung around and shot back towards the Quidditch stadium through the dense, thickening storm cloud.

*~*~*~*


Down in the stands, Dumbledore was sitting next to Professors Snape and McGonagall watching as the game unfolded. All of a sudden, Dumbledore froze in his seat, staring at the clouds.

“Albus?”

He’s left the grounds,” breathed Dumbledore looking unnerved.

“What? What do you mean? Who’s left the grounds?”

The words were barely out of Professor McGonagall’s mouth when the attention of everyone in the stadium was drawn irresistibly towards a magnificent silver stag. All the players hung motionless in the air, all thoughts of the match abandoned. Even Malfoy had stopped in his search for the Snitch and froze in the air, his eyes lighting up in realisation. Harry’s Patronuntrius shot towards Dumbledore and stopped to face him. Harry’s pleading, desperate voice could be heard clearly by everyone as it echoed through the silence.

“Help.”

Instantly, Snape raised his wand and a jet of white light exploded from the end and disappeared into the swelling clouds. Within ten seconds, the Firebolt soared downwards and stopped in the centre of the pitch. Absolute silence followed as the Firebolt waited in the middle of the field looking as lost as a dog without an owner.

Professor McGonagall gasped and drew her hands up to cover her mouth, barely comprehending what this meant. Hermione, and Neville broke away from the terrified Gryffindors and sprinted over to the staff stands while, up in the air, Ron abandoned his goal post and soared over towards Hermione. Katie, looking horror struck, followed him. Dumbledore put his head in his hands, seemingly a broken man. Snape had visibly paled but straightened his back, a look of steely determination crossing his dark features, and looked directly at Dumbledore.

“I’ll get busy then, shall I? I said I would do this my way.”

It wasn’t really a question, Snape just swung around, his cloak flapping behind him, and pushed his way through the crowds as he headed towards the gates of the grounds.

Dumbledore watched him go and just before Snape left the gates, a silvery phoenix caught up with him.

“Severus, be careful…”

Nodding in recognition, Professor Snape Disapparated.







A/N : As always, I would love to know what you think of this story so far “ there isn’t far to go with this now but there is a sequel coming. Hopefully the end of my version of book six will be up before HBP comes out!

Many thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far, your comments are hugely appreciated.

Thanks a lot!
And sorry about the cliffy! Well, not really… :)
The Darkest Hour by Stormy
As soon as Snape had Disapparated unseen by anyone, Dumbledore stood up and magically magnified his voice so everyone could hear him.

“Everyone is to go to the castle immediately and you are all to stay there until further notice. Professor Vector will be left in charge, the Prefects and Head Boy and Girl are to report to her immediately. No one is to leave the castle itself no matter what the reason. You will be safest there. Everyone move. Now!”

An instant uproar followed from the stands. All the students began to head up towards the castle, many of the Gryffindors in tears. Only a few of the older, more perceptive students made the final connection between Harry’s disappearance and the unusual abate in the number of Death Eater attacks over the previous weeks. Hermione, Ginny, Ron and Katie pushed their way over to Dumbledore, horror struck. Katie was inconsolable since she was the one who had told Harry to go after the Snitch.

Minerva McGonagall and Kingsley Shacklebolt stood deep in conversation with Dumbledore when they finally made there way over to him.

“…and you, Minerva, please can you contact every member of the Order and tell them to be at Grimmauld Place immediately. Kingsley, please can you contact Alastor Moody and Nymphadora Tonks and tell them likewise. Be as fast as you possibly can without drawing too much attention to yourself…”

Dumbledore turned around and looked unsurprised at the arrival of the two Weasleys, Hermione and Katie. As if resigned to what would happen, Dumbledore pulled Ron’s broom out of his hands and muttered “Portus!”. Instantly, he turned back to the four students.

“Miss Bell, please fly back up to school immediately; I am leaving you in charge of the students since you are Head Girl. Do as I ask please, I will give you more details when I can.”

“But it’s my fault Harry’s gone! I told him to-”

“No buts, and this is not your fault. I will send word to you as soon as I can with further instructions. Until then, please will you do your best to keep everyone calm.” Katie turned around, tears streaming down her face, and flew off towards the castle entrance. Professor Dumbledore watched her go for a few seconds, a pained look in his eyes.

“This will be the first time you will be allowed into an Order meeting,” Dumbledore said, looking back at Ron, Hermione and Ginny. “Anything said during it is strictly confidential and must not be repeated. Understand?”

As one, they all said yes and reached out to touch Ron’s broom. “On the count of three then. One... Two… Three...”

The Portkey pulled Ron, Ginny and Hermione towards Grimmauld Place. When their feet finally hit the floor of the dining room, every member of the Order, including Dumbledore, Kingsley and McGonagall, were either already there or Apparating as they watched. Ron and Ginny looked terrified at the sight of so many fearful, worried faces.

Hermione glanced around herself before leaning over to Ron.

“Snape,” she hissed at him. “He’s not here!”

*~*~*~*


When Harry finally awoke, his thoughts fled instantly back to what had happened at Hogwarts. He could remember losing control of his broom before then being kidnapped by the Death Eaters and taken to a small area enclosed by several standing stones. Once there, Harry’s memory began to fade and blur as he remembered his wand being wrestled from him and the Death Eaters, to add insult to injury, used his own wand to inflict as much pain as they could on him.

At first, Harry had tried to count the number of times they used the Cruciatus curse on him. He’d lost count when the number hit fifty-seven. He was certain that Voldemort was not there although Harry couldn’t fathom as to the reason why.

Harry also found he had no idea where he was now “ the room he was in was completely bare and dark. After several hours, the Death Eaters had taken him away from the stones and brought him to the cell he was currently in. The only light came from a miniscule window too high for him to see out of and an iron barred door which led, from what little Harry could see, into a long corridor with torch brackets along the walls. It was unnaturally void of all sounds except for that of the waves crashing on rocks and the biting wind which whistled around the corners.

How long Harry had been there he didn’t know, although he visibly flinched as he heard some shuffling footsteps. Immediately outside his cell, Harry’s gaze was met with a hooded figure whose face was disguised by a mask.

“Welcome, Harry Potter, to your new place of residence. I assume you are now aware of where you are?” a cold voice asked.

Harry didn’t answer. The Death Eater laughed cruelly and hit him with the Cruciatus curse. Pain exploded along every bone in his body and Harry’s screams echoed around the cell long after the curse itself had been lifted.

“I asked you,” the Death Eater continued as if nothing had happened, “if you knew where you are.”

“No,” Harry whispered, fearful of being hit again with another bought of the curse if he didn’t respond. The Death Eater laughed shrilly.

“Now that is a shame. You could have asked your Godfather if he was still alive. He’d know “ he spent thirteen years here…”

Harry felt a chill in his stomach.

“Azkaban?” he croaked in fear.

“And you know what likes living at Azkaban, don’t you Potter. They like the occasional visitor and they haven’t seen anyone for a very, very long time. I hear you have a special love of the Azkaban guards…”

The Death Eater laughed cruelly again and disappeared out of Harry’s range of vision. Within minutes, seven or eight Dementors came gliding towards Harry’s cell and made a semicircle around him. One drew a slow, rattling breath and Harry felt the last of his wavering strength leave him. He collapsed on to the cold, damp floor waiting in vain for someone to rescue him; succumbing at last to the darkness which was trying to engulf him.

*~*~*~*


“This meeting has been called due to a matter of emergency,” Dumbledore started, his voice beginning to crack very slightly as he stood in the dining room at Grimmauld Place surrounded by every member of the Order except Snape. “At present, we have no concrete proof as to where Harry will have been taken t-…”

Molly Weasley voice cut him off mid sentence. “Taken! What do you mean, ‘taken’?” she shouted.

“Molly, Harry was kidnapped by Death Eaters during the Quidditch match. He flew into the clouds and it was imposs-”

“A Quidditch match! HOW CAN SOMEONE GET ABDUCTED DURING A QUIDDITCH MATCH?! I THOUGHT HOGWARTS WAS SAFE! I THOUGHT HARRY WAS SAFE!”

“Mum!” Ron interrupted, “it wasn’t Professor Dumbledore’s fault…”

“YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN MORE CAREFUL!” Molly yelled, her protectiveness of Harry more pronounced than ever. “I KNEW SOMETHING LIKE THIS…”

“Molly,” Arthur Weasley cut in. “You know what Death Eaters are like and how they operate. Once they get a plan that they intend to enforce, very little can be done to stop them!”

“HE SHOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN OUT THERE! HE SHOULD…”

“…Have been locked up and told to never leave the castle walls?” finished Kingsley, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “Taken away the one thing Harry truly enjoys in life? Stopped just because of what might happen?”

Molly Weasley blushed and fell silent.

Dumbledore continued in a very strained voice. “As I was saying, we have no proof as to where Harry has been taken. At present, Severus Snape is trying to gauge the exact location of where Harry is. My suspicions, however, are currently on the Riddle House in Little Hangleton.”

“Isn’t that where You-Know-Who lived when he was younger?” Ron whispered.

“Yes, Mr Weasley,” Dumbledore answered gravely. “It is also where Harry saw Voldemort return to his body two years ago. As to what Voldemort is planning this time though…”

“At least it’s not Azkaban,” Tonks muttered to Moody who was sitting next to her. “If he was taken to there, I shudder to think what would happen to him. It would be disastrous…”

At that moment, Kreacher stumbled into the room, cackling with obvious delight. “Shame on the blood-traitor, serves him right, killing his mother’s son. Oh, the blood traitoring brat…”

“What do you want, Kreacher?” Dumbledore asked in an uncharacteristically icy voice, his eyes burning.

Kreacher didn’t answer but continued to curse under his breath. “Oh, the blood traitoring brat, the noble House of Black dishonoured…”

Dumbledore turned away in disgust.

“…locked up with a Dementor now though, the Shame of the Wizarding World…”

Everyone stared intently at Kreacher although no one more so than Hermione.

“…where the filth of his mother’s son spent thirteen…” Kreacher’s voice faded to an inaudible level before he raised his head and stared at Dumbledore as if he’d only just realised he was there. “Does the owner of the Noble House of Black require…”

Alastor Moody hit Kreacher in the back with a stunning spell. Raising his head, Moody stared directly at Dumbledore, his normal eye wide in understanding. Dumbledore, on the other hand, had shut his eyes and held the corner of the table seemingly for support. His face had turned ghostly white and he had defeat written all over his ancient features.

“Was he talking about Harry?” Ginny ventured carefully, staring around at the members of the Order gathered there.

Tonks, white with shock, nodded.

Locked up with a Dementor?!” Lupin exclaimed in panic. “It’ll kill him!”

“Azkaban?” Hermione asked nobody in particular.

“Yes, Miss Granger; Potter is currently in Sirius Black’s cell in the western tower of Azkaban,” Snape answered as he walked through the door from the kitchen looking tired and wan. Everyone, without exception, looked at him in a slightly awestruck way as Snape continued; “and he’s in the company of a dozen Dementors.”

The silence in the room was absolute and Snape’s face twisted into a grim smile. His black robes were hanging loosely off him and he was holding his wand. He didn’t need to wear a mask to look like a Death Eater “ just his mere stance said everything. His black eyes glittered as he turned towards the Headmaster, a slight, bitter sneer playing on his lips.

“Unless anything happens to change it, from what I’ve heard Potter is unlikely to remain alive much past the weekend. They are currently trying to see how many times they can hit him with the Cruciatus curse before the Dark Lord arrives. When I left, they were on eighty-four…”

“Why didn’t you stop them?” Remus Lupin accused scathingly, his voice growing louder. “Surely a hatred of James doesn’t mean that you’d let his only child die at the hands of a group of murderers!”

“It would have been inappropriate for me to intervene. If I had been caught, Potter’s chance of survival would have been nil.”

“Inappropriate?!” Ron yelled. “You miserable, twisted git! Wha-…”

“Mr Weasley,” Snape said in a dangerous tone, drowning out Ron’s voice. “If it wasn’t for me, Precious Potter would already be dead. I persuaded them to let the final killing blow be the pleasure of the Dark Lord himself, who has not arrived at Azkaban yet. It is now a race between the Order and the Dark Lord. Whoever gets there fastest will decide Potter’s fate. If the Order isn’t there first, there is no question as to what will happen to your faithful sidekick.”

Molly Weasley’s anguished cry brought home to all of them what a knife edge they were wavering on.

*~*~*~*


“How’s our guest?” Lucius Malfoy said as Alfred Walsham walked into the old Auror Quarters at Azkaban.

“Screaming with pleasure,” he answered, an insane grin lighting up his sallow, pinched face. Walsham was elated “ this was his first mission as a Death Eater and he was overwhelmed with pride that he had been chosen as part of the group to kidnap Harry. “He seemed especially happy when I told him that I was sending along the Dementors.”

“Ah yes. Potter has got a special way with them. They don’t seem to be able to leave him alone.”

Laughing, Lucius Malfoy stood up. “The Dark Lord should be here soon, Walsham. I am sure he will be pleased with your dedication to him. He especially asked that Potter was to be given a typical welcome. He did also say that if Potter became difficult we could ‘deal with him’ in any way we felt suitable,” Crabbe and Goyle, who had been flanking Lucius, cracked their knuckles in anticipation, grinning stupidly. The four Death Eaters fell silent as Severus Snape walked back into the room, only seconds after he had left Grimmauld Place.

“Well, that didn’t go quite to plan,” Snape sneered at Lucius in disgust. “One day that bloody House-elf will learn to stop muttering under its breath and will stop giving the game away.”

“What?” snapped Lucius in answer, unsaid accusations with regards to Snape’s loyalty lacing his voice. Snape smirked at Malfoy, who put his hand into his pocket and curled his fist around his wand while glaring at the Potions Master in distrust.

“I said that House-elf will need to learn to keep its mouth shut,” Snape continued smoothly. “No matter though, that Mudblood-loving fool is convinced Potter is currently in Little Whinging. The House-elf said he was with a Dementor, which seemed to worry him quiet nicely,”

Lucius smirked at Snape’s words but stopped when he saw the faintest trace of a glare in his dark eyes. He stood up and drew his wand, “Legilimens!”

Snape just stood there when Lucius cast the spell, effortlessly shutting down everything except the memory of him leaving Dumbledore’s office at Hogwarts after saying Harry was at Little Winging. Lucius, after watching the memory, stopped his attack on Snape.

“You don’t trust me?” accused Snape in a harsh tone. “You have heard from your own son as well as seen with your own eyes, my support of the Dark Lord and his principles yet you still feel the need to treat me as a common spy!”

“I was carrying out orders,” Lucius Malfoy countered, looking slightly awkward, as well as overwhelmingly angry. “The Dark Lord asked me to check the validity of any claims made. I will challenge whoever I feel it is necessary to. I will find out the identity of this traitor, and make them pay,” he added with a sneer.

Snape bared his teeth, his eyes flashing. His voice was sharp and furious. “I am certain you will, eventually. Incidentally, have you finished guessing yet?” Snape sounded almost careless, but Malfoy bristled with anger. He knew Snape was referring to the night at Horton Tower the month before and he stared icily at Snape, who just held his gaze with a look of pure distain.

“You push your luck, Severus,” Lucius Malfoy breathed, watching the Death Eater’s reaction closely. “You push too far, too often. You know I will be watching for any betrayers.”

Snape’s face remained impassive as he shot a glance around the room, his eyes settling for the briefest of moments on the door for the western wing of the prison.

“How dare you,” Snape snarled, drawing his wand and pointing it at Lucius Malfoy as he turned back to face him. “Your claims are getting progressively more futile. No wonder the Dark Lord sees no use in you.” Snape leered as a green spark shot out of the end on Malfoy’s wand. “I would, however, rather vent my anger on a certain teenager than a worthless excuse for a wizard such as yourself. It is hardly worth the effort.”

Malfoy was clearly seething with anger but forced himself to answer without rising to Snape’s malicious taunt.

“You know where to find him, Professor. I left him on ninety seven hits. Our Master has instructed me to be the supervisor of this exploit, and I am ordering you to bring the number of hits up too one hundred.”

“I will,” Snape agreed menacingly, swinging round and heading towards the western tower.

Lucius Malfoy narrowed his eyes in response. Alfred Walsham let out an excited laugh and made to follow him, seemingly oblivious to the palpable tension between the two Death Eaters.

“Wait,” Lucius spat as the door swung shut behind Snape. “Let him enjoy a few moments alone with Potter. We will go along for the show in a minute or two, when I have summoned the remaining Death Eaters.” Grudgingly, Walsham sat down and waited, watching his wristwatch in anticipation.

Snape heard nothing of this exchange as he was walking quickly towards Sirius Black’s cell at the top of the tower, thinking as he did so that Lucius was drawing closer to the truth at each meeting. It would only be a matter of time before he told the Dark Lord of his suspicions, if he hadn’t already. Snape knew he it was enevitable now that he would be watched.

The Order had better get here soon,
he thought, as his footsteps echoed off the mossy walls. If this plan fails, there is going to be hell to pay…

Snape pulled out his wand and hurried on, walking with a menacing stride.

*~*~*~*


Harry was curled up on the mossy, damp floor barely conscious and his strength all but spent when he next heard someone approaching. The aches of the Cruciatus curse plagued him constantly and the Dementors drained him even further. He also felt excruciating pain shoot through his left arm whenever he moved. Vaguely, he was aware of footsteps drawing nearer. Familiar footsteps.

The Order!
Harry thought, hope flaring inside him. Desperately, he pulled himself upright, ignored the pain and waited desperately.

“Move!” an icy voice hissed, causing the Dementors to withdraw from Sirius’ old cell. Harry froze in terror as he realised who was speaking; Severus Snape looked coldly at him through the rust tinged bars, his hood pulled up and his mask obscuring most of his face. Harry stepped back and, for a long moment, both student and teacher just stared at the other.

As Harry wordlessly stared into his Potions Master’s horror struck face, he felt a new emotion overwhelm him. Although Snape was part of the Order, Harry was still unsure as to which way his Professor's loyalties lay. Unsurprisingly, he was not looking forward to what Snape could do to him; he was, after all, a Death Eater. Snape, however, unbolted the cell door and walked quickly over to Harry without raising his wand.

“Dear Merlin,”
Snape breathed, standing immediately in front of Harry. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but Harry thought he saw a brief flash of concern flicker in his tunnel like eyes. Harry flinched away as Snape, with his usual scowl once again returning, reached out to touch him. Through his fear, Harry did notice that Snape didn’t seem to be making any move to curse him. He knew he was mistaken as Snape coldly raised his wand and seemed to disregard Harry’s obvious, pleading protests as he pointed it at Harry’s mutilated arm.

“Exsarcio!”

Harry just looked blankly at Snape as he felt his arm heal instantly. He didn’t understand anymore; everything began to fade, his vision blurred and his desperately weak grip on consciousness failed at last.

He never realised a strong pair of hands grabbed him as his knees buckled; hands which held on to him to stop him from crashing back down onto the floor. As Harry again succumbed to unconsciousness, a small yet defiant ray of sunlight shone through the minute window illuminating his ashen, bloodstained face.

Despite the beam’s miniscule size, it still managed to force away a little of the darkness which swamped the shadows of Azkaban Prison.








A/N: *Deep breath* - so then, what do you think? The end of this story is starting to close, so I hope you think the wait has been worthwhile…

Please let me know what you think “ I would love to know.

‘Exsarcio’ - ‘to patch up / repair’

Oh, I have also submitted a new fic called ‘Betrayal’ so if you’re enjoying this one, you might like to check it out…
Truth, Lies and Curses by Stormy
When Snape reached the western tower, he shuddered as a blast of freezing air hit him, his black cloak flowing out behind him like a banner. He could feel the penetrating cold of the Dementors inside him and yet he was still several feet away from them. The Potions Master could only imagine how Harry must be feeling.

Ninety-seven hits,
Snape thought. Merlin only knows how he could have survived that lot. I thought the Longbottoms only withstood seventy-eight… A nasty voice hissed a response in the back of Snape’s mind; who says that just because he is still alive that he is still sane? Snape shook his head, desperately trying to rid himself of these thoughts.

“Move!” he snapped at the surrounding Dementors when he finally pushed open the rotting door of the tower. Walking over to the furthest cell, Snape glared down at Harry but his contempt changed instantly to dismay as he took in Harry’s mutilated body.

“Dear Merlin,”
Snape whispered as he stood in front of Harry. Whatever state he had expected Harry to be in, it was nowhere near as bad as he really was. His eyes were sunken and blood was oozing slowly down his face from a deep gash above his left eye. His scarlet Quidditch robes were damp with blood and every part of them was ripped to shreds. His arm was clearly broken and despite his brave stance it was obvious that he was terrified. Unsurprisingly, Harry cringed away when Snape touched him, recoiling from the raised wand. Snape consciously decided to ignore Harry’s pitifully weak protests and pointed his wand at Harry’s arm and healed the fracture instantly.

Harry looked back at Snape, the unmistakeable confusion in his eyes unable to mask his desperate plea for help. Snape, unnerved at the strength of Harry’s gaze, stepped back. As he did so, Harry paled visibly and crumpled like a rag doll; the extent of his injuries clearly overcoming him at last. Instinctively, Snape caught him before he hit the ground and gently lowered him onto the floor.

Quietly, Snape raised his wand and pointed it at the cut above his eye and healed that, too. His charm made it appear to bleed even more freely although in truth the wound was healed. A distant noise brought Snape back to reality. Stepping away from the cell, he pointed his wand directly at Harry’s heart with a steady hand. Seconds later, the door banged open and Lucius Malfoy strode in, Alfred Walsham at his side. Shutting down his emotions, Snape twisted round and faced the newcomers with the same look of loathing that Harry had been on the receiving end of for nearly six years.

*~*~*~*


“Everyone understand what you need to do?” Alastor Moody growled as he stood in Grimmauld Place. There were several nods and murmurs of agreement. “In that case, good luck everyone and remember to protect Potter as much as you can. We will meet back here when everything gets back under control…”

As one, every member of the Order pulled out their wand and Disapparated, arriving a split second later in the damp darkness of a dungeon in Azkaban.

*~*~*~*


“How many hits now?” Lucius hissed at Snape. “I told you to bring it up to one hundred.”

“Ninety-nine,” Snape spat back, lying through his teeth. “I was taking my time and enjoying it.”

Alfred Walsham grinned, an abhorrent feeling of pleasure gripping him as he thought of the screams.

“Could I, Sir, be the one to bring it up to the hundred?”

Harry, as if hearing this, twisted on the ground and let out a cry of helplessness before returning to his deathly silence.

“No,” retorted Lucius Malfoy instantly. “No. I’m going to do that. Crucio!”

Harry began to twist and jerk as soon as Malfoy’s curse hit him. His heart-rending screams served only to spur Lucius on.

“Stop!” barked Snape. Lucius raised his wand and stared in disgust at his master’s favourite servant; the anger flashing in his eyes was obvious.

“What did you say?”

“I said ‘stop’. The Dark Lord is not going to thank you if Potter’s brain is turned to a distorted wreck before he can take his turn. He’ll want him coherent.”

Nodding in unwilling agreement, Lucius turned back to face Harry. “In that case, how about we change to the Adflictatio cur-”

“Stupefy!”
about twenty voices yelled, knocking Lucius Malfoy and Alfred Walsham to the floor. Snape raised his wand instinctively, although he did so not because of the Order’s arrival but because Harry had screamed out with a piercing cry, his body contorting in agony as he clutched his scar. Seconds later, at the end of the corridor furthest from the Order, at least fifty Death Eaters Apparated.

A ringing silence followed and in the centre, between both the Order and the Death Eaters, Snape stood frozen to the ground staring at both groups. Harry was curled up on the floor behind him.

A cloaked figure Apparated silently next to Snape.

“Severus, my incomparable friend,” Lord Voldemort said quietly, his red eyes burning. “I am so pleased that you could bring that rabble…” he indicated the Order, “…to Harry Potter’s funeral.”

Snape murmured his thanks, inclining his head to Voldemort in a bow which looked convincingly like docile servitude. No one saw behind Snape’s mask, the look of utter revulsion and resentment on his face. Stepping into the shadows, Voldemort drew Snape with him.

Looking around himself, Voldemort glanced at the Order and then at his Death Eaters.
“Well, it’s good to see all of you joined here to witness the death of a good many mudbloods and Muggle-loving fools who decided to fight against me rather than with me. I hope you die painfully. Deal with them,” Voldemort sneered to the Death Eaters. Immediately, curses were yelled and the Order and the Death Eaters began to duel. It wasn’t long before people began to fall on both sides; some falling silently, others screaming in pain.

Voldemort disregarded the commotion. Flicking his wand almost carelessly, a dome of green light covered Snape, Harry and himself. Any curses which struck it bounced away into another victim.

“Hold him down,” he commanded coldly to Snape, who immediately bent down and held Harry’s arms, pinning him to the floor. Voldemort smiled cruelly. “Legilimens!”

Guessing as to what was coming, Snape had instantly thrown up a shield on Harry’s behalf. It was their physical contact which was allowing him to do so but, as Snape knew, the ward he had made would not be able to hold out forever. The protective shield caused Voldemort to be momentarily surprised by Harry’s defence although the Dark Lord just began to intensify his assault on the child who had been his downfall.

Slowly, Snape felt his magical reserves beginning to feel drained with the effort of holding up the invisible barrier. After around five minutes, Snape felt his shield crumbling and he had to let it fall, unable to reinforce it any longer. At that moment, just as his Occlumency shield finally broke down completely, an electric like surge forced its way through Harry forcing Snape to let go. Stumbling backwards, the Potions Master tried vainly to stay upright while at the same time drawing his wand. His efforts were useless as he succeeded only in being caught in the crossfire between the Order and the Death Eaters. Almost immediately, he found he was forced directly into the path of a Death Eater’s curse.

He never raised his wand in time.

It was agony like nothing else Snape had ever felt. It was almost as if a white hot poker had been forced deep into his back and was being mercilessly twisted by the cruellest of hands. With a cry of pain, he crashed to the ground and heard a horrible scraping, splintering crack as his wand arm hit the uneven floor. Snape rolled over as he struck the rocky surface, the curse he had been hit by slowly spreading out along his back. Snape felt the burning power of the curse, both potent and formidable, heartlessly trace a crooked score from his left shoulder right down his spine to his lower back.

Shuddering from the impact, Snape felt the first traces of murkiness begin to collect at the edges of his brain. For a few seconds he just lay exactly as he had fallen, barely even able to breathe let alone actually move. Just as his body convulsed in anguish, he caught a brief glimpse of Minerva McGonagall outnumbered at least twenty to one by Death Eaters.

Forcing his mauled frame into action, Snape heaved himself upright and, ignoring both the pain which slashed through his torso and the curses which were missing him by inches, he made his way deftly over to Professor McGonagall.

A few moments later, Dumbledore Apparated near the wall furthest from Harry and Voldemort; his face white and his blue eyes burning with cold fire.

“Avada Kedavra!”
the voice of a Death Eater yelled, sending a jet of green soaring from the tip of his wand. Minerva McGonagall never stood a chance. The curse struck the Deputy Headmistress squarely in the back and Snape forced himself to watch in dismay as Professor McGonagall’s body fell in an awkward heap at the feet of her killer. As the Death Eater screamed in pleasure, Snape was almost too dumbfounded to hear Voldemort howl in pain.

Seconds later, Voldemort Disapparated at the same instant Dumbledore whipped around and Stunned the nearest Death Eater.

Crushed with guilt, Snape recoiled as his numbed brain registered that he would never speak to the Deputy Headmistress again. Faintly, a distant memory floated into his mind “ “Look after Potter”. Grasping desperately at these instructions, Snape made his way back over to Harry, who was lying unmoving on the floor. For the first time since April, he felt again the first glimmers of a fear far beyond what any other human had ever endured with the possible exception of Harry himself. The trepidation burnt through his veins like poison and, accompanying it, Snape felt another bought of pain course through him.

It was only when he was almost next to Harry that he realised Voldemort had gone. The rest of the Order still seemed to be unaware of the Dark Lord’s departure although the Death Eaters began to group together and fight more strongly.

Looking down, the last thing Snape remembered was seeing the Death Eaters Disapparating and Harry, deathly pale, sprawled motionlessly on the mossy, cracked floor.

“Sorry, James, I failed you,” Snape whispered falteringly as a wave of dizziness overwhelmed and disorientated him. His knees gave way and he crumpled to the ground next to Harry. There was a difference between his collapse and Harry’s though: there was no one there to catch him.

*~*~*~*


Dumbledore pushed his way over to Harry as soon as the Death Eaters Disapparated; Molly and Arthur Weasley at his side. Mrs Weasley screamed as she saw Professor McGonagall’s body.

“No! Minerva! What happened?”

Dumbledore, his voice quiet, replied “There’s nothing we can do for her now; she was outnumbered but she fought bravely. If she was here now, though, she would have wanted us to help those who survive, not those who have passed on.”

Trying desperately to swallow her tears, Molly agreed.

“Dumbledore!” came Kingsley’s anguished shout from next to Harry. “Dumbledore!”

Swiftly, Professor Dumbledore was at his side and looked down, appalled at Harry’s still figure.

“And it’s not just him…” whispered Kingsley, as he moved slightly away from Harry.

There was an audible gasp from every member of the Order as Kingsley moved enough to reveal Snape. The Potions Master’s greasy black hair was matted with blood and his breathing was shallow, uneven and clearly painful.

“Severus?” Dumbledore asked, taking hold of his Potion’s Master’s wrist. “Severus?!”

Without opening his eyes, Snape gave a barely audible answer which seemed to cost him every last bit of strength he had remaining.

“Potter… look… after… important… power… Dark Lord… hurt… weak… Clamcelo... Cruciatus… ninety-eight… Potter… help… forget… me… I don’t… matter…”

“Severus,” Dumbledore answered clearly, “if it were not for you, we would have been unable to get here in time. It is unquestionable that you matt“”

“Tell… friends… Sorry…” Snape stuttered before a racking cough shook his body. For a few seconds, Snape seemed to fight valiantly against the oncoming darkness until he finally fell silent and lay as motionless as Harry.

For what seemed like an age, the responding silence was deafening as every member of the Order stood there in shock. Molly Weasley, Nymphadora Tonks and Alastor Moody were crouched next to Harry but looked up as Dumbledore’s voice, suddenly icy, cut through the silence.

“Take Harry away from here. Take him back to Hogwarts. Do what you can…”

Instantly, Molly drew out her wand and picked up a stray stone. “Portus!” Putting it onto Harry’s chest, she, Moody and Tonks reached out to touch it. “One…two… three…” They vanished, taking Harry with them.

Well aware that time was running out, Dumbledore twisted round to Kingsley who was still looking disbelievingly at Snape. “Take Severus to Hogwarts. Do your best for him. I’ll be along when I can.”

Nodding his head, Kingsley reached down and picked the spy up from the floor. Snape didn’t move; his still, corpse like form was hanging limply in Kingsley’s arms and his body was clearly shattered from the curse. Dumbledore pointed his wand at the pair of them, ready to transport them to Hogwarts.

“Good luck.”

It was only after Kingsley had vanished that Dumbledore made his way over to his Transfiguration teacher. As Dumbledore reached out to touch her, the remaining Order members once again returned to a horrified silence although this time out of despairing respect. Several other members had already started the gruesome task of searching the remaining bodies for those who were injured and those who had died.

It only took seconds before tears began to fall as the Order of the Phoenix realised fully what had happened. They had lost over a tenth of those that had come; along with Professor McGonagall were Hestia Jones, Deadulus Diggle and several recently joined members, including one newly qualified Auror.

It was only when Dumbledore’s hand finally touched Minerva McGonagall, however, that he allowed a single tear to escape down his face and drop quietly onto his blood smattered robes.

*~*~*~*


Madam Pomfrey screamed when the three Order members arrived with Harry held between them. If it was possible, Harry appeared even paler than when he had been at Azkaban and a ribbon of blood was trickling slowly down his face on to the floor. Quickly, Tonks and Moody put Harry on his usual bed while Molly Weasley quickly explained to Madam Pomfrey what she knew.

“We’re not sure what happened exactly. We know Harry’s been tortured and he had some kind of a fight directly with You-Know-Who. He’s also been with Dementors…”

Madam Pomfrey turned pale and drew her wand.

“No! And how many times was he hit with the Cruciatus curse?”

“Ninety-eight,” Moody growled, “and the scum were counting.”

Pushing Tonks out of the way, Madam Pomfrey waved her wand and started to pour the newly conjured. clear purple potion down Harry’s throat. After several minutes, Harry’s breathing became deeper and, although he was still unconscious, his life was no longer hanging in the balance.

No one noticed when Kingsley arrived holding Snape “ everyone was too occupied with Harry. Staggering slightly under Severus’ deadweight, Kingsley looked over to Moody, Tonks and Madam Pomfrey.

“Give me a hand here, one of you!”

Madam Pomfrey was still leaning over Harry so instead Moody turned around and walked over to his fellow Auror.

“Old Snape’s in a bit of a mess, isn’t he?” Moody said, mildly concerned but his disdain over the ex Death Eater’s past still clearly apparent.

“Yeah…”

Neither of them noticed the blood seeping down Kingsley’s robes and then on to the floor leaving a crimson pool.

“Can you help, Alastor? Thanks,” he added as Moody took Snape’s lifeless form off him. “Merlin, he’s heavy. I didn-”

Kingsley broke off suddenly. He’d just looked down at his gleaming red hands and his now sodden, blood soaked robes. Everything was made a hundred times worse as Alastor Moody, who still held Snape awkwardly in his arms, looked over to Kingsley.

“You all right there, Shacklebolt? Only that’s a hell of a lot of blood you’re standing in…”

Looking over at Snape, Kingsley suddenly felt a dawning realisation wash over him. “Bloody hell, that’s Snape’s blood! Poppy! Oh Merlin; Poppy! Alastor, do something!”

Madam Pomfrey turned around and took in Snape’s torso with one sweeping glance. Her eyes widened in shock.

“Good Lord, how come he’s still alive?” squealed Tonks in horror, following the matron’s stare. “There can’t be much blood left in him to lose!”

“There isn’t,” Alastor Moody said grimly, looking into Snape’s deathly pale face. The only sign of life that Moody could detect was the minutely faint fluttering of Snape’s heart; any trace of the Potions Master’s breathing was undetectable.

Kingsley voiced what the others in the room were thinking in a flat, toneless statement.

“If someone doesn’t do something soon, he’s not going to wake up again.”

*~*~*~*


It was six days before Harry regained consciousness. Every part of his body ached, despite the odd numbness which enveloped him. Carefully, Harry pulled himself upright and reached over to his bedside table to put his glasses on. His wand lay with them.

“Good morning, Harry,” a soft voice said. Harry looked round as fast as his battered body would let him.

“How are you feeling?” Albus Dumbledore walked slowly over to Harry, who couldn’t help but notice how much older and frailer his Headmaster looked. The trials at Azkaban weighed heavily on the Headmaster.

“I’ve been better,” Harry said, gritting his teeth as a wave of pain shot through him. Dumbledore chuckled.

“Well, at least it is good to see you have lost none of your sense of humour during your, er, stay with the Death Eaters.”

Smiling in a strained way, Harry looked over to the left of his bed but the grin slid off his face with what he saw.

“Snape?”

“Professor
Snape, Harry.” Dumbledore corrected quietly.

“Whatever,” said Harry vaguely, gaping at Snape’s motionless body. Even in the quietness of the Hospital Wing, Snape’s breathing was nearly inaudible and his face was chalky white. His hands were sickeningly pale and his whole body looked marred and bruised.

“He was hit by the Caedesio Hex, which usually kills the person it strikes within five minutes.” Dumbledore continued softly, his voice laced with guilt as he answered Harry’s unasked question. “The Ministry has just declared it as the fourth Unforgivable; as far as they know, the spell has not been used for nearly twenty years. I would never have told Severus to follow you if I had known that the Death Eaters were aware of it, let alone that they were prepared to use it.

“Professor Snape went to Azkaban to try and save you, Harry. He informed the Order of where you were and then returned to the prison to try and help you escape. I also have reason to believe that he somehow helped you in fighting Voldemort although I am not certain as to what he did exactly yet.

“Professor Snape was forced into the path of the curse around five minutes after Voldemort’s attack on you. He then made his way back over to you as soon as he could although, and I have to say unsurprisingly with regard to the extent of his injuries, Severus collapsed next to you. It is remarkable that he stayed conscious as long as he did.

“Kingsley Shacklebolt reached you first after the Death Eaters Disapparated and instantly called me over. You were unconscious and Severus was as well, barely two feet away from you. Professor Snape, however, somehow regained consciousness for a few seconds and told me to look after you and leave him since he seemed to think he was ‘not important’ before he again passed out. Again, he came around a few seconds later and he said to ‘tell your friends he was sorry’. That was the last thing he said; he’s been in a coma ever since. This is now the sixth day since you were taken to Azkaban.”

Nothing broke the silence which enshrouded the room. Harry, numb with shock and guilt, felt again the pain of the Cruciatus curse wash over him. Snape had come to Azkaban because of him and, no matter how much he tried to convince himself that Snape was an evil git, there was no way anyone deserved to be in the state the Head of Slytherin was now. Harry shuddered, barely able to suppress the cry of pain, both physical and emotional, which wanted to rip from him.

“Are you in pain, Harry?” Dumbledore said, his voice gently yet his gaze intense.

Harry didn’t want to think about what had happened any more. He didn’t want to think about the fact Snape had saved him. He also certainly didn’t want to be questioned by his Headmaster on what had happened with Voldemort. Completely drained and defeated, he allowed himself to escape into the familiar blackness without answering.

*~*~*~*


It was thirteen days after Harry’s kidnapping that Snape finally regained consciousness. When he finally woke, a soft moan escaped him as he felt excruciating pain rip through his body. Carefully, he moved his head over to the right and saw Harry lying next to him. Harry’s face was pale and drawn although, essentially, he looked as well as could be expected. Breathing a sigh of relief, Snape visibly jumped as a voice called out from the end of the corridor.

“You all right there, Professor?” Madam Pomfrey hurried over to him looking concerned.

“Dum…ble…dore…” Snape said in a rasping whisper.

“I’ll get him,” Madam Pomfrey answered instantly, disappearing from his view. Snape turned back to face Harry and watched him in silence for several minutes.

“Severus?” Dumbledore’s voice said from next to him. Snape turned to face him and cast him a pleading look to signal he wanted Madam Pomfrey to leave.

Dumbledore nodded briefly. “Poppy, could you leave us, please,” he said quietly without taking his blue eyes from Snape’s black ones. Grudgingly, Madam Pomfrey left the ward with only a quiet muttering along the lines of “Don’t you dare stay here long. I agreed to get you as soon as he awoke but I didn’t think that it included this…”

“Severus?” Dumbledore said quietly again.

“Po… tter?” Snape asked in a painfully weak voice.

“He is fine, Severus. I dare say there will be no serious physical after effects.”

“Is… ok...? Long…bott…oms… curse… hit… Mungo’s…” Snape fell back onto his pillows, his desperate attempt to sit up failing abysmally.

Dumbledore looked away from him, staring instead at the floor. Snape looked at Dumbledore, a fire burning in his coal like eyes.

“What?” he snapped, regaining a little of his former strength and bullyish manner. “What are you…” his voice faded as he lay gasping for breath. “Tell…me…” he choked out.

“I don’t know, Severus. He just will not talk to me. He will not talk to anyone. He’s just so consumed by guilt and anger, he’s disappeared inside himself. No one can get him to talk to them, to open up, at all.”

Snape let out a soft moan, clearly trying to disguise the pain he felt ruthlessly slicing through his body.

Dumbledore leaned closer to Snape, his eyes flickering with compassion.

“Severus, look at me,” Dumbledore commanded in a gentle yet firm voice. As he turned to face the Headmaster, Snape found that he was unable to suppress the scream of pain which knifed through him.

Alarm flashed for a moment in Dumbledore’s light blue eyes. “You are in agony aren’t you, Severus,” he said steadily, looking at the Potions Master. Snape just looked away, not answering Dumbledore’s direct and reasonable assumption.

The sparks which usual burnt in Dumbledore’s eyes faded into nothing as Snape lapsed into unconsciousness again without uttering another word.

Madam Pomfrey walked up behind Dumbledore.

“They’re as cantankerous as each other, aren’t they,” she stated bluntly, glancing between Harry and Snape.

“Yes,” Dumbledore sighed regretfully. “The question now though is what are we going to do about it?”

Madam Pomfrey looked at Dumbledore lost for words.

There could be a long wait,
Dumbledore thought to himself before answering. “Knowing those two they’re not going to give in easily. Not to me, and not to each other. And yet they are so alike, even now,”

Madam Pomfrey looked in wonder at Dumbledore.

The fact remained that both Snape and Harry were as stubborn as the other, and to get them to open up was like trying to turn water into fire.

*~*~*~*


Over the following two weeks, neither Harry nor Snape said anything to anyone.

Harry was staying in the Hospital Wing purely to avoid the rest of the school. Ron, Hermione and Ginny had all tried to get him to talk to them but he just turned away, refusing to look at them. Ginny particularly was devastated; not only had she lost Professor McGonagall, her favourite teacher, but she was losing Harry too. She struggled through her O.W.Ls, skipping questions out completely as her thoughts drifted back to Harry; alone in the hospital wing blaming himself for something he’d had no control over.

Harry was fuming with the lethal combination of overwhelming anger and crushing guilt. Snape was still drifting in and out of consciousness on an almost hourly basis, shuddering frequently from the pain. Whenever this happened, Harry found himself resenting Snape more than ever for making him suffer like this by watching his Potions Master succumb to his devastating injuries. The guilt Harry felt over Sirius was on a level with the helplessness and remorse he felt now.

Snape was slowly returning to health although he was blatantly devastated by what had happened. As far as anyone knew, he was the only person to have seen Minerva McGonagall die and the loss had hit him far harder than anyone expected. Finally, after almost a month in the Hospital Wing, Snape had managed to get out of his bed and began to move around for a few minutes each day.

The first time he did this, Harry broke down as he caught sight of Snape’s back. Ragged scars lacerated his torso, every one of them stemming from a jagged gash running from the base of his spine all the way to his left shoulder. Snape had cast his most hated student a look of pure disdain when this had happened; the glare in his black eyes barely able to hide the wretchedness which burnt incessantly there.

Even so, an unspoken agreement had sprung up between both Snape and Harry that neither would mention what happened at night. It was only possible for a few hours sleep at a time since either one of them would wake up from plaguing nightmares, their pleading screams always inevitably waking the other.

*~*~*~*


Harry sat quietly at the window of the hospital wing, five weeks after his kidnapping, staring out in to the moonlight. A single cloud drifted pass the moon’s face casting a deep shadow across the walls of the castle. Seconds later Harry heard quiet, uneven footsteps behind him. He shuddered and jarred his body round, drawing his wand to face the intruder. Harry didn’t relax the grip on his wand as he came face to face with Snape.

“Steady, Potter, it’s me,” Snape said quietly, choosing to ignore Harry’s wand which was pointed in his face.

It was the first time in two weeks that the weighty, guarded silence between them had been broken.

Harry, looking angry, twisted around and returned to staring determinedly out of the window clearly implying he wanted to be left alone. Snape reached over and pulled a chair from one of the unused bedsides and sat barely three feet behind Harry, watching him intently.

An hour later, neither Harry nor Snape had moved. Harry, finally unable to withstand Snape’s eyes cutting into his back, turned to face him with hatred in his eyes.

“Why don’t you just leave me alone?”

“Because you don’t want to be left on your own,” Snape answered simply, his lank hair falling across his face.

Harry, blushing crimson, turned around and stared out the window again. After a few seconds, he hissed at Snape. “You don’t know what it was like…”

“This is doing no one, least of all you, any good Potter,” Snape said softly. “I do know what happened at Azkaban; more than most. I was there when Lucius Malfoy put the Cruciatus curse on you for the ninety-eighth time. I was there when you collapsed in Sirius Black’s cell and it was I who caught you before you hit the floor. You probably don’t remember,” Snape added before he continued in barely more than a whisper. “One thing is certain; I will never forget seeing you standing in that cell with enough injuries to kill almost any other person I know. And yet you still found the strength and courage to stand up and face what you knew would come.

“When the Dark Lord arrived, he told me to hold you the floor. He attacked you with Legilimency and I put up an Occlumency shield on your behalf. After a time I found I could no longer reinforce the shield and the Dark Lord gained access to your mind. As he did so, some kind of powerful surge went through your body, forcing me to let go. I assume it was the Clamcelo’s protection but its power rebounded onto me. After that, I have no real memory of what happened. I remember being forced into the path of a curse, I am not sure which, and then the Dark Lord screamed out in pain and Disapparated. I made my way back over to you.”

Snape fell silent, staring at the floor with his eyes glazed over from the memory. He had pointedly not mentioned what had happened to Professor McGonagall; Harry wasn’t ready to hear the whole truth yet.

“After that, I cannot tell you what took place.”

Harry’s shoulders shook. “I can,” he muttered.

Snape’s back went rigid. “What?”

“Dumbledore told me. He said you collapsed too, right next to me. Kingsley reached us first and called Dumbledore over. He said that you had been hit with the Caedesio Hex which usually kills on impact. Madam Pomfrey said your injuries were worse than mine and you were only hit once…”

Snape coughed uncomfortably.

“Anyway, apparently Dumbledore tried to help you but you just told him to look after me because you seemed to believe that you didn’t matter. Dumbledore interrupted you but you passed out again. Just before you went into a coma, you said to…”

“Tell your friends that I was sorry,” Snape finished almost inaudibly, looking at the floor.

“Yes,” Harry breathed. “Why?”

Snape continued heavily, his voice filled with remorse.

“I had failed you, and Dumbledore, and your Father.” Snape hesitated as Harry froze on the windowsill. “I owe your father a life debt. In losing you, I had left his debt unpaid. I had failed everyone, the Order had counted on me being a spy and Dumbledore’s orders were for me to protect you. Once you had been taken, there was little more I could do. I had failed on both counts.”

The hurt in his voice made Harry recoil. At last, he finally understood where Snape was coming from. Underneath Snape’s voice, there was a note of resentment and hurt which, despite it always having been there, Harry had only just detected. Snape had always been seen as an outsider, someone to avoid rather than speak to, and his life had been a hard one. He had been trusted with a task by the only person ever to truly trust him without asking for anything in return. Snape honestly believed he had failed in completing it. The bitterness was unmistakeable.

“What I wish,” Snape said, staring at the floor again, “is that I could finish the Dark Lord once and for all. At least by killing him I could prevent what he would do in the future. Next time I get a chance, I will.” Snape’s eyes burnt with a cold fire as he looked in Harry’s face. Harry however, looked away without meeting Snape’s eyes. He cringed slightly as he put his hand into the pocket of his robes.

“Don’t even try,” he whispered at last.

“Why not? I have as good a chance as anyone else. Why should some Ministry employee get the final word?”

“They won’t be able to,” Harry said more to himself than to Snape. The Potions Master looked at him incredulously.

“And what makes you think that, Potter? Does you arrogance know no bounds?”

“Fifteen years ago, a Prophecy was made about Voldemort and me.” Harry said carefully, revealing what he had not mentioned to anyone.

Why, in Merlin’s name, am I telling this to the person I swore to keep it hidden from…?

“I know.” Snape answered in frustration, his hand shaking as another flash of pain seared through him. “So? What’s so impor-?”

“Do you know what it said?”

“No,” Snape answered instantly. “No one does. The only record of it was destroyed last year. Unless…” Snape looked at Harry, understanding flashing across his face. “You know what was in it, don’t you.”

It wasn’t a question.

Harry looked at Snape, a tortured look on his face. “No one knows, with the exception of Dumbledore and me. Not even the Order. Not even Ron and Hermione, and Ginny,” Harry added, answering Snape’s unasked question. Shutting his eyes, Harry continued in a flat, toneless voice.

“Here. Merlin knows, you of all people have the right to know.” Harry reached inside his robes and pulled out the Clamcelo and handed it to Snape. “If you need a reason not to try and kill Voldemort yourself, this will give it to you.”

Snape took it, a questioning look in his eyes. Harry flicked his wand in Snape’s direction, who sat completely transfixed as he heard Sybill Trelawney’s voice clearly inside his head.

“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches … born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies … and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not … and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives … the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies …”

A tense silence followed.

“So it’s down to you then,” Snape said at last after an age long silence. “It will be either be you or him, in the end?”

Harry nodded, unable to look Snape in the eyes.

“Just never tell anyone else,” Harry voiced in a cracked whisper.

“Never, I promise you. I would rather die than tell anyone.”

As Harry looked at Snape, the full weight of the Prophesy, at last, was born on more than just his own shoulders and he was immeasurably grateful for it. For the first time, he realised that Snape had put his own life on the line to help him and he hadn’t just done so because he was on orders. As Harry’s eyes finally locked with Snape’s, he realised he was seeing on a level with his Potion’s Master for the very first time. They were in the same boat now.

“So then, Harry… What are you going to do?”

“Merlin only knows,” he answered without thinking. His brain was overwhelmed by another thought.

Snape just used my first name.










A/N : *Deep breath* So then, what did you think? I hope you felt that the chapter was worth the wait. There is one more chapter after this and then there’s the sequel…

Oh, and for all you Latin fans:
‘Adflictatio’ “ pain / torture
‘Caedesio’ “ ‘caedes’ meaning ‘to cut down / slaughter’.
The End of the Beginning by Stormy
HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED ATTACKS BOY-WHO-LIVED
IS ANYWHERE NOW SAFE?

It emerged yesterday that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named launched an attack on sixteen year old Harry Potter just seven weeks ago today. The Boy-Who-Lived was kidnapped from inside the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry during a Quidditch Match. He was taken to Azkaban Prison, now under the control of You-Know-Who, where he was tortured repeatedly by You-Know-Who’s followers who are more commonly known as Death Eaters.

No word has so far come from either Albus Dumbledore, currently Headmaster of Hogwarts, or Harry Potter himself with regards to his condition. Rumours that the boy has been tortured into insanity remain unconfirmed. Questions have been raised over whether Albus Dumbledore should have been more careful with regards to the safety of Harry Potter, and other students, whilst at the school and some concerned members of the Wizarding community have raised comments that the school itself needs to be more strongly protected.

“The school should be protected by Aurors continually,” Shirley Mills, senior member of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, said exclusively to the Daily Prophet. “It is a disgrace that something such as this should have been allowed to take place.”

Griselda Marchbanks, Head of the Wizarding Examinations Authority, issued a statement last night with regards to safety at the school.

“I have been made aware of the safety precautions in place up at the school and I am fully supporting Albus Dumbledore. Safety at the school is as tight as it has ever been and it is clear that the Staff are doing the best they can to ensure the continued safety of the students.”

On the topic of staff, it has also become known the Minerva McGonagall, former Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, was brutally murdered at the age of 72 by You-Know-Who’s followers as she attempted to rescue Harry Potter from the clutches of the Dark Lord. Rumours that a second Professor of Hogwarts, as yet unnamed, was also severely injured during the attack also remain unconfirmed.

In last night’s ‘Question Time’, the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, was asked as to why he failed to inform the public of the loss of control over Azkaban. Fudge declined comment. A Ministry insider, who has requested to remain anonymous, revealed that the Ministry had lost control of Azkaban to You-Know-Who well over two months previously.

“It is a disgrace,” the Ministry official said looking decidedly irritated. “Since the current Minister has not been informing the public of what has been taking place at the Ministry, I think it is high time that a Vote of No Confidence was enforced.”

For more information on the safety of Hogwarts School, turn to pages 3, 4 and 5.
A report on the subject of a ‘Vote of No Confidence’, please turn to pages 8, 9, 10…

Hermione sighed as she folded the paper up.

“You see, Harry, I told you the Prophet didn’t know what they were talking about.”

Harry shrugged in sullen answer. “They got most of it right; it’s just all unconfirmed.”

“Come on, mate,” Ron said quietly. “We’ve only got one day left before the end of term. Can’t we just, you know, try and move on?”

“As much as I hate to admit it, Ron’s right, Harry,” Ginny answered before Harry had even opened his mouth. “P… Professor McGonagall wouldn’t want us to be miserable like this. Gryffindor courage and all that…”

Harry looked at the floor. “But it was others as well; Hestia Jones, Deadulus Diggle…”

Ginny put her arm around Harry in gentle comfort. “Harry, don’t start beating yourself up over this again. They all knew what they were getting themselves in to and they died fighting for what they believed in. It was their choice, Harry, not yours.”

Nodding in silent, unwilling agreement, Harry closed his eyes as Ginny’s words hit home. “Will you all give me some time?” Harry breathed, looking up at Ginny as he spoke. “I just want to… have some space I suppose. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

As he stood up, Ginny allowed him to go. “Don’t be too long, Harry.”

“I won’t,” he answered, walking towards the portrait hole. “See you at dinner.”

“He’s changed, hasn’t he,” Ron stated as soon as the portrait swung shut again.

“Yes,” Ginny replied heavily. “But, I don’t know, he seems almost better for it. Like he’s steeled himself somehow to whatever he’s been hiding from us.”

Hermione looked suddenly thoughtful. “You’re right Ginny,” she said suddenly. “It’s like whatever was weighing him down has lifted off him; I think he’s told someone what was worrying him.”

“Dumbledore?” Ron said eagerly. “Because it’ll be good that he’s at least told someone we can trust.”

“Maybe,” Hermione answered slowly. She was, for the first time, immensely glad that neither Ron nor Ginny were Legilimens. She had a shrewd guess as to whom Harry would have told, and that person most certainly wasn’t Dumbledore.

*~*~*~*


“Potter?” a voice said quietly behind him as he sat on the window sill in the Eastern Tower of Hogwarts looking at the Quidditch Pitch. The sky was a thick, sapphire blue and a few cotton wool clouds drifted lazily across the sky. Some of the students were sitting on the lawns in front of the castle while others were swimming in the lake or playing Quidditch. The sounds of laughter drifted up with the breeze making Harry feel more alone than he’d ever felt but, in some strange way, more calm and determined too.

Harry turned around and Snape stood awkwardly leaning against the door frame watching Harry closely.

“Fallen out with Weasley and Granger again?”

“No,” Harry answered, turning back to the window. “Just thinking.”

“He won’t do anything for a good long time yet, Harry. The Clamcelo would have drained a good deal of his power. He won’t make any move for several weeks at least; he’ll just stay quiet for a few months until he formulates a new plan, and regains his former power.”

Harry looked round at the Head of Slytherin again but lowered his eyes as Snape just stared at him before he continued.

“You will meet him sometime in the future and, when you do, it will be either you or him. He won’t take chances again; you have been the bane of his existent for longer than you realise.”

For a split second, Harry was almost sure Snape had smiled.

“Sir, can I ask you something?”

“That largely depends on what it is you want me to do. If it is award ten points to Gryffindor, the answer is no.” Harry couldn’t help it; he smiled and Snape just looked at him indifferently, his pale face impassive.

“Will you tell me what is going on with Vol… I mean, You-Know-Who?”

Snape turned away from Harry and began to walk, limping slightly, down the corridor.

“I’ll see, Potter.”

Harry shrugged slightly, looking back out at the sunlit grounds as he thought of what Snape had just said. An hour later, Harry walked downstairs to meet Ginny for lunch and, when he saw her, he smiled broadly for the first time in nearly two months.

*~*~*~*


“And so we now come to the end of another year at Hogwarts,” Dumbledore said as he stood up for his usual end of term speech on the last day of term. The wall behind the teachers’ table was draped in black although above it, a huge red and gold banner with the Gryffindor lion hung proudly, fluttering slightly in the gentle breeze flowing through the hall.

“I must first acknowledge the loss of a great friend, colleague and Professor.” Dumbledore started, his eyes lingering on the Gryffindor Table. “Minerva McGonagall was hard working, valued fairness and equality for all those she met and, most importantly, believed in standing up for what she believed in.

“Professor McGonagall, as many of you may now know, was murdered by Death Eaters on the instructions of Lord Voldemort. She died defending both herself and others despite being outnumbered by her enemy and for this, I honour her.”

Dumbledore reached down and picked up his goblet; every person in the hall followed suit and the whole school drank to the Deputy Headmistress. As Harry sat down, he did his best to ignore the stares of a few fellow students. Dumbledore had so far not mentioned him and he hoped it stayed that way. Ginny, through her tears, noticed that the look on Harry’s face was identical to Snape’s. Almost subconsciously, she reached out and held Harry’s hand.

“Lord Voldemort has a gift of spreading distrust and hatred and, over the coming months, his attempt at gaining power will only get stronger. It does not matter which House you are in, or what path your friends, or parents, chose to take. It is up to you and you alone, to decide which course you intend to follow. Many of you have already suffered directly at the hands of Lord Voldemort and I regret to say that I fear many more of you will also have friends and family taken from you before this war is over.

“Voldemort will use lies and false promises to gain followers; be responsible for yourself and do not let your principles be swayed by his followers. If we stand united, we can remain strong in the face of this onslaught. Voldemort has no understanding of love, trust and loyalty and it is these qualities which he fears above all others.

“Remember Minerva McGonagall, and the principles she fought for. Many of you will soon be faced with a difficult choice and will need to decide which side you will follow. All I ask is that you consider carefully which road you intend to take; take the path which you feel is right, not the path you just feel is the easiest. Remember Minerva McGonagall.”

A respectful silence filled the hall as Dumbledore sat down and Harry looked up at Ginny, Ron and Hermione and smiled sadly before repeating Ginny’s last words before the Quidditch final.

“Let’s go get ‘em.”

*~*~*~*


Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny shared a carriage down into Hogsmeade. The year had been a long one and Gryffindor Tower had been unusually quiet since the Quidditch final. Dumbledore’s speech, though, seemed to have rekindled everyone’s spirits and the Gryffindor courage seemed to fight its way through the melancholy silence.

The train ride back was uneventful and the Weasleys, Hermione, Harry and Neville had a compartment to themselves. All too soon for Harry’s liking, the train began to slow down and they all walked through the enchanted barrier dividing Muggle London from Platform 9¾. Molly, Arthur, Bill, Charlie, Fred and George all stood waiting the other side of the barrier. Harry smiled at the sight of Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia staring at the Weasleys like they had the plague.

“Harry dear, did you have a good term?” Molly pulled Harry into a bone crushing hug as she smoothed his hair in a motherly fashion.

“Yeah,” Harry answered and then groaned in pain as two large thumps announced Fred and George’s greeting.

Molly let go of Harry and looked at the twins in anger.

“Boys! I told you to behave yourselves! I only let you come because you said you“”

“Mum,” Bill said, laying a hand on his mother’s shoulder. “I was wondering…” Both twins unashamedly gave a thumbs up sign to their older brother.

“Harry,” Ginny said quietly in his ear. “I’ve just asked Dad; hopefully you’ll be able to come and stay with us after a couple of weeks. Professor Dumbledore has said it’s ok.”

Harry grinned as he faced Ginny. Ron and Hermione walked over hand in hand to say goodbye.

“See you, Harry. Really soon I hope.”

“Bye, Harry! And good luck.”

Smiling in appreciation, Harry walked over to the horror struck Dursleys who were throwing disgusted looks at Bill who, for some reason, seemed to be offending them.

“Are you coming or not, boy? I am not waiting in this station for ever.”

The Dursleys walked out of the station, Dudley waddling behind them. Harry hung back for a second to say farewell to Ginny.

“See you, Gin,” he said quietly, pulling her into a hug. “I hope it won’t be too long…”

Ginny nodded in silent understanding and, for a second, kissed Harry fleetingly on the cheek before grinning mischievously at him.

“Mind you behave yourself, Potter,” Ginny said in mock seriousness. “I don’t want any competition.”

“Don’t worry, Ginny. Lord Voldemort is just a warm up compared to you when you’re angry.”

Harry left the station with a grin on his face. If they could still laugh after what had happened at Azkaban, maybe a victory in the coming war was not quite as impossible as he thought.









A/N : *Sniff* I’m actually really sad that I’ve come to the end of this story; thanks so much to all of you who have taken the time to read this and a special thanks to those of you who have taken the time to give me some encouragement and advice as and when I’ve needed it. You guys rock!

I also want to say a huge thank you to Alexis Taylor, who’s moderated the earlier chapters of this story and also a massive thanks goes to Chelsea, who has moderated almost all of the later chapters. Thanks guys!

The sequel to this, ‘Harry Potter and the Flame of Obitus’, is now posted so I hope you will all keep reading (and reviewing!).

Once again, thanks a lot and three cheers for JKR who invented this magical world in the first place.

~ Stormy x
This story archived at http://www.mugglenetfanfiction.com/viewstory.php?sid=18965