A/N: So, yeah. A lot happened. Lost my motivation, and then slowly regained it. No promises on any kind of regular updates.

During the break, I fixed up the story a bit. Hate the Ron/Ginny hate I have, but it’s a part of the story now. There aren’t as many chapters as there once was, so hopefully that doesn’t screw people over with the reviews. If it does, whoops. But it was overly wordy before (not that it isn’t still).

This took me a long, long time to write. The first two scenes were written in ’08, but the rest I struggled with then, kept hitting walls, and mostly wrote this year. I’m not happy with it now, nor have I ever been, with this or any of the other dozen versions. For what I want to later have happen, this stuff had to come now, at Hogwarts. Keeping this chapter to myself any longer was not going to help me solve my issues with it, so here we go. Hopefully it doesn’t seem as if I’m too out of touch with writing, as I feel that way.

Thanks to pureb99 and Master Slytherin for their assistance with the Ministry letter. Thanks to Voice of the, ParseltonguePhoenix, Rob and BennyS for their assistance and comments. Finally, thanks to everyone who reviewed in the three years since my last update. I responded to few, but you all made me persist with (re)plotting and (re)planning this fic.

Chapter 19: Family

“How can that be?”

Ernie’s voice disrupted the almost silence that had enveloped the scene. The sounds of dripping water could be heard around the Chamber. But it was Harry everyone’s attention was focused on.

“As I understand it, this chamber was made as a place for Salazar Slytherin to keep private from the other Founders.” Harry began. He turned away from the statue of said man and faced the rest of the group. Their expressions varied from worried to curious to ambivalence. “Only a Parselmouth could gain access. Since I didn’t do this, and Voldemort doesn’t have access to the castle, that means only another person – one who can speak Parseltongue – could have done this.”

“Can we be certain that he didn’t do this himself? That he doesn’t have a way in?” asked a worried Susan. She and Hannah wore similar expressions.

“The castle’s protections, Dumbledore, something, surely, would have to have reacted or known about a Voldemort entering the grounds now that he has a body.” Harry replied with more confidence than he currently felt. If Voldemort could sneak in, then... “Either way, that does leave us with the question: who else is there?”

“Someone in Slytherin probably –”

“Jumping to conclusions, are we?” Daphne interrupted. “That ability alone isn’t enough to define someone in a House.”

“She’s right, Hannah.” Harry intervened as Hannah appeared to want to take the point further. “I am living proof of a Parselmouth in another House.”

Hannah closed her mouth and looked away. A moment passed wherein only the constant drip-drip could be heard.

Harry shook his head and continued on. “It stands to reason there would be other Parselmouths around the world, and we are likely to have others who have kept it a secret here in the UK, especially if they grew up in the wizarding world. More so after the reaction I got.”

“Where does this leave us then?” asked Padma, and Harry could sense the uncertainty she felt. This was something she didn’t have a solution for.

“We need to find an alternative approach to destroying Horcruxes.” Hermione replied. Then, gesturing at the absence of the Basilisk, “And, if we can, find out who did this and why.”

It was left unspoken how monumentally difficult that task would be. Every person in the castle was a potential suspect.

-x-x-x-x-x-

A week passed with time seeming to fly by. Assignments were piling on for the fourth and above years, and even the younger years were beginning to feel additional pressure on their comparatively meagre workloads.

Apparition lessons, which had begun in mid-January to the noticeable excitement of the sixth and younger seventh years, were progressing well. Having already passed his test, Harry spent his time studying. Except for Luna, the rest of the DA participated to various levels of success. Hermione, Padma and Daphne were all pleased to have accomplished their first Apparation by the close of their third lesson.

The first several meetings of the school-wide DA progressed with barely a hitch. Younger students were already falling behind despite valiantly attempting to keep with the rapid pace Harry set. Neville had been reluctantly assigned to watch over them and teach at a speed more suited to them. He was proving capable enough for the task. Though he’d started off reluctantly, his confidence had grown as both Harry and the students under him both approved of and obeyed him after proving that he was becoming a very capable wizard. That, of course, involved Neville taking on some of the more cocky students in a duel. Needless to say, Neville won.

A number of students had proven to be exceptionally hard-working, and a few of them came as a great surprise. Lavender, Dean and Seamus – the three that had initially approached Harry – were amongst the less surprising. Their worth ethic was vastly different than Harry had ever seen from them in any of their classes. However, as they were the initiators he had expected it. It still pleased Harry to no end to see them not only keeping pace with the material, but mastering the tasks more than adequately, this coming from some of the generally less enthusiastic of students.

Ron, conversely, was a surprising hard worker. He had kept his head down and mouth shut, opting to concentrating on performing to the required standard, or one he had perhaps set for himself. He was amongst the top performers, in fact. Others, such as Cho Chang, Megan Jones, and a number of fourth years were also amongst the best performing students. All in all, very few were failing to keep up. That was a positive sign if there ever was one.

However, Harry found himself with little time to pursue the mystery of who was the other Parselmouth in the castle. Harry checked the Marauder’s Map on many occasions only to find nobody entering or leaving Myrtle’s bathroom, nor Malfoy near the Room of Requirement. Although he didn’t expect the culprit to return to the scene, Harry was still a little disappointed. He could only ponder the motives of whoever the person was to remove the remains of the Basilisk from the Chamber of Secrets. Was it for the money, to foil him, or the Basilisk venom? Perhaps it was something else entirely.

Malfoy had been released from the Hospital Wing looking considerably better than he had the last time Harry had seen him, covered in blood, dying on the floor of Myrtle’s bathroom. He was very quiet and withdrawn, his complexion paler than ever. For the first few days, he had barely spoken a word in classes or at meals, his mind clearly in another place. Given how the latest attempt to discover what Malfoy had been up to had gone so poorly, Harry was not as enthusiastic or frustrated as he had been before their duel. The only positive that Harry could honestly say that came from that day was that he had stalled Malfoy further. It wasn’t much, but then again, with how it went, he had little to be joyous about.

Valentine’s Day had come and gone with no dramatic affairs this year. Romilda Vane had attempted to offer Harry some more treats, but, suspicious of her motives, he examined the gift and found them laced with substances designed to enthral him. This time he was less than polite in his rebuttal. His tolerance for attempts to gain his attention had taken a severe blow after Ginny. She had appeared hurt at his rebuke. Harry couldn’t find it within him to care.

But it was the dinner of the sixteenth that brought the next challenge.

It was an average evening in the Great Hall. Students were loudly discussing their days, plans for the future, wizarding pop-culture and the dramas of this year’s Valentine’s Day. Harry was seated with his group – minus Daphne – at the centre of the Gryffindor table. Curiously, after the now daily occurrence, a few of the younger students had begun sitting with house-tables other than their own. It was accepted amongst the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. However, when the first, and only, student – a mere first year – attempted to sit at the Slytherin table, the poor kid had been subjected to a variety of insults and not-so-harmless pranks the entire meal from the older students. He never tried again.

“-see Corner and Goldstein nearly knock each other out?” Hannah was saying animatedly to the group. “That never happened when we were learning Banishment Charms that way.”

Harry grimaced as he recalled the near simultaneously hits to the head the two Ravenclaws suffered due to their poor aim. They weren’t the first two hurt themselves while practicing spells, and they wouldn’t be the last.

“I finally can get them back for that time in Charms when we were learning Summoning Charm,” continued Hannah with almost childish glee. “This is going to be great!”

She was in a very good mood having also successfully shown up Mandy Brocklehurst, much to the latter’s displeasure. There were many rivalries among the student populace, Harry was discovering, beyond his and Malfoys.

Harry just smiled at her enthusiasm and kept eating instead of responding. He was pretty satisfied himself. Something, though, was off. He couldn’t place it, couldn’t understand it. He had a rough night’s sleep. He was kept on the edge of sleep for so hours, his mind unwilling to shut down. He remembered a vicious headache.

His musings were distracted when a screech echoed in the hall.

“Well, I never!” Nearly-Headless Nick’s followed the screech. Harry spotted the ghost at the entrance with several other ghosts and gathered the owl must’ve flown straight through him.

A brown owl with a black streak across its legs flew into the Great Hall, drawing the attention of a number of students. The owl spotted its target, and made its way to them. It just happened that the owl was headed towards Harry.

He wondered what could possibly have earned him the attentions of someone outside of Hogwarts this time. There had been no response about Malfoy and their fight, true to Dumbledore’s words. He tried to mentally prepare himself for whatever he was about to learn.

But the owl didn’t land in front of Harry. The owl landed in front of Hannah.

The girl started, not expecting either the letter to be for her or the graceless landing of the owl in her food. Some of her soup spilt onto the table making a mess.

“What is it?” asked Susan, the question on many students’ minds.

Hannah, perplexed, reached out to remove the letter. Then she gasped and drew back away from it, as if burned.

“What is it?” asked Hermione tentatively. Hannah, however, had not heard. She was sitting stock still, staring at the envelope.

Those within eyesight looked from her to the envelope, and those that could see it hushed immediately.

It was black.

“Oh, Merlin, no, no, no,” started Susan, her eyes widening in shock at the sight. “It can’t be. It must be a mistake, Hannah.”

Perhaps for the first time, Harry needn’t anyone to explain to him the significance of the black envelope. He had seen many of these over the past couple of months. Most students that received them were immediately shepherded out of the Great Hall and only a few of them had been still at Hogwarts the following day.

The envelope signalled a death. The death of a family member.

“Miss Abbot, I think it would be best if you come with me,” advised Professor Sprout who had approached their table unseen. The entire hall, like on each occasion before, had fallen silent. As nice as it would have been to the person involved, it wasn’t out of respect, but out of curiosity as to what had happened.

Hannah had yet to move. She kept her eyes on the envelope. It was like a train wreck; she didn’t want to see it yet she couldn’t take her eyes away from it.

“Hannah,” whispered Susan worriedly, giving her a gentle nudge. “Hannah?”

The girl swallowed. She reached forward and hesitantly untied the envelope. Her hands fumbled several times and the owl gave an irritated hoot.

Once removed, her hesitancy suddenly appeared to vanish, for Hannah opened the envelope with fervour. There was a single piece of parchment inside.

Hannah’s eyes dashed across the page, watering as she went. Susan watched on helplessly. The rest of the group, and much of the Hall, were silent.

She put down the letter and got up abruptly, scaring more than a few of her neighbours. Sprout stepped forward and gently rested a consoling arm on her shoulder. That however only made matters worse. Hannah let out a sob and quickly ran out of the hall. Susan was on her feet an instant later, prepared to go after her, when Sprout motioned for her to halt.

“Let her go for a minute, Miss Bones.” Sprout informed her quietly. “Then I’m certain your presence will be of great help.”

Susan nodded, displeased, torn, but ultimately agreeable, and slowly retook her seat. Sprout, after exchanging a silent message with the Head Table, left the Great Hall, evidently in search of Hannah to offer whatever comfort could be given.

Harry, who had been speechless for the entire event, licked his lips and tentatively asked, “What does it say?”

Susan picked up the letter and read it quickly. Tears welled in her eyes as she went on. Once she had finished, the letter was thrust into his hands from across the table, before Susan stood up again and left the hall quickly.

Harry, with Hermione and Neville leaning over his shoulder, decided to read the letter before following after the two girls.

To Miss Hannah Abbot,

It is the unfortunate duty of the Ministry of Magic to inform you of the death of your father and mother on the 16th May, 1996. A ministry sponsored mind-healer will be available to you free of charge at St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries during the next forty eight hours.

Please contact Gringotts London to inquire about the reading of Alfred Abbot and Miranda Abbot’s last will and testament.

Hope you are well,

Margaret Boland

Department of Public Relations

Ministry of Magic

“Merlin…” exclaimed Neville quietly. “They’re both…” he trailed off.

“Yeah,” Harry said, swallowing. The letter was removed from his hands by Padma, who read it quickly, and then passed it on to Su, her eyes filled with emotion.

Hermione leant forward beside Harry and whispered. “The letter... It’s so… I can’t even think of an adequate adjective.”

“Generic.” Padma offered bluntly. “Impersonal.”

“Well, yes.”

The note was passed on to the others.

“Is there anything we can do?” asked Ernie, once he had read it.

“What can we do?” Harry replied, staring off into space, contemplating and not thinking at the same time. Conversation between them ended there.

Around them, talk slowly resumed, but with a subdued atmosphere. The group around where Hannah had been sitting remained sombre and silent for the remainder of the meal. Shortly afterward, the group split in the Entrance Hall. Some had classes, others not. Harry chose to find Susan and Hannah and see how they were. The rest either left for classes or to squander the next hour or two before their own.

Harry withdrew the Marauder’s Map, which was always on him, and noted Susan Bones was standing outside the doors to the castle. Hannah was in one of the greenhouses. Sprout was in the one next door, probably keeping an eye on her charge but not bothering her.

Exiting the castle, Harry met with Susan. Her pretty face was saddened, almost on the verge of tears.

“I can’t believe this.”

“Should we go and see her?” asked Harry. Susan seemed to debate the answer for a long time.

“I know Hannah, Harry.” Susan said firmly. “She would want the company.”

“If you’re sure…” he began, but left it that. Susan was Hannah’s best friend. She had a better chance of knowing what she wanted or needed than anyone else.

Harry packed away the map and two made their way out into the grounds, passing students leaving from dinner who were chatting animatedly again. The topics weren’t pleasant, however.

“Another one –”

“Who’s going to be next?”

“Glad my parents are in Germany for the year…”

Harry and Susan heard more snippets of conversation as they passed, none of it raising their spirits. The cold chill of the night air brushed what exposed skin there was, causing goosebumps the instant they left the shadow of the castle walls. Wrapping themselves deeper into their clothing, they walked down the stairs and began the trudge through the fields to the greenhouses.

“How long have you two known each other?” asked Harry as they made their way through the grounds. He was curious. What were their lives like before Hogwarts? And in general - did wizard children have pre-schools or were they simply home-schooled? Was there even any education before Hogwarts beyond basic literacy?

“Ever since we were six.” Susan replied. Her tone was a mixture of sadness and happiness as she switched her focus from present to past.

“Can you tell me about it?” continued Harry, again hesitantly. If nothing else, he hoped it would ease Susan’s mind a little.

“Of course,” responded Susan immediately. While she was not acting like her normal cheerful self, she did seem to perk up at the interest in their friendship, or perhaps the happier memories she was recalling. Either way it was an improvement, and an improvement was an improvement.

“You know that Auntie was the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, right?” Susan asked, and Harry nodded his confirmation. As he was in front, Susan saw the motion and continued. “Every year, there were several Ministry Balls that she was forced to attend since she was head of a department.” She paused, smiling to herself at a particular recollection where Amelia Bones had not-so-politely proclaimed how much she detested the events to herself while dressing for one.

“I was six at the time; it was a week before Christmas at that Ministry Ball when Hannah’s…” Susan paused a second time, heart wrenching at the thought that she would never speak with the woman again. “Hannah’s mother was attending this one. I don’t remember how she got an invite; she wasn’t an employee of the Ministry at the time. Anyway, Hannah was with her, and Auntie and Hannah’s mother started talking. The two of us were the only ones our age and we… we just talked.”

Harry nodded a second time, marvelling at how different their lives were. At that time, he would have been either locked in his cupboard or cleaning up the garden to make it presentable for the Christmas photos the Dursleys took each year.

“We were kids, two girls in a room full of adults; it was hard not to get along.” Susan continued almost wistfully. She reached a crest in the path and turned to face Harry, who stopped beside her, examining her features. “It was another year before we saw each other again, but when we did, I think we were both more pleased to see each other than we expected. Auntie and Hannah’s mother organized get-togethers after seeing how happy we were together. From then, Hannah’s been the closest friend I’ve had and probably ever will.”

The two shared a comfortable silence before turning to face the Greenhouses in front of them. The wind blew and Harry resisted the urge to shiver. Susan held a hand to her head to keep her hair from blowing about.

“Hannah and I saw each other a couple of times a month from that second time onwards until we were nine when our pre-Hogwarts lessons began. Then we saw each other almost daily.”

“Pre-Hogwarts lessons?” asked Harry, his brow furrowed.

Susan stared at Harry for a moment before she shook her head. “There wasn’t anything that we didn’t learn in our first year or wouldn’t have picked up along the way,” she explained as she started walking again. Harry fell into step beside her. “We learnt about common wizarding history, about wands, their significance. We learnt about magic and the distinguishing features of each type – offensive, defensive, healing, Dark, transfiguration and charms. This was all done at a basic level so that we would understand it back then. Most wizarding children have some variation of teachings before Hogwarts.”

Another something I missed out on… Harry wondered again what his life would’ve been like had he been raised in the wizarding world.

“There’s not much more to say.” Susan said in a darker tone. “We would sleep over at each other’s houses, talk about anything and everything. We were together when we received our Hogwarts admission letters, and again when we travelled to Diagon Alley before our first year. Being in Hufflepuff together only cemented our friendship for our time at Hogwarts.”

Susan slowed her pace a little and stared at her feet as she walked. “I don’t know what I’d do without her…” slowed to a stop. “I’m sure she feels the same. Especially now, after the past year.”

Harry didn’t need to be particularly observant to realize Susan was heading into a mental funk and laid a comforting arm around her. She stepped in closer to Harry and hugged him tightly. She shook slightly. The pair stood motionless for a long moment.

“Her parents were two of those people in the world who didn’t judge anyone.” Susan whispered as she stepped back and dabbed at her eyes. “They were the nicest people I had ever met. Even when Hannah and I messed up they were understanding, forgiving, while still chastising and reprimanding us like a parent should.” She turned to face the greenhouse Hannah was in, though the plants inside obstructed their view inside.

“Hannah once told me that she was worried her parents didn’t love each other anymore,” she said almost inaudibly. “And that they were extra nice to us because of it… She said there were times when they didn’t speak to each other for days at a time, and she was certain they fought but she never heard an argument. I never gave it much thought. I mean, they looked happy to me. But what if it were true? Merlin, what must be going on in Hannah’s head?”

Harry continued to remain silent. He wasn’t sure how to respond even if he didn’t feel it was best to let Susan talk. Their childhoods sounded so different, yet it wasn’t perfect – Susan had lost her parents, and perhaps Hannah’s parents weren’t happy in their marriage. Was there even the perfect family, or were they all deeply flawed?

The questions Harry asked himself hit close to home. For the longest time he wished for some long lost relative to come and whisk him away from his life at the Dursleys. When he finally did find the slimmest promise of family in Sirius Black, his chance was taken away within hours, Sirius having to turn to a life on the run. He had never had anything resembling a happy, perfect family. Was that still what we wanted…? He couldn’t give an honest answer to that.

Susan turned and determinedly made her way to the greenhouse door. Her hand was rested on the knob when Harry drew up beside her. She faced him once, her features resolute, composed, and opened the door.

The smell was the first thing Harry noticed, closely followed by the temperature as he stepped inside. Like all of the Hogwarts greenhouses, this one was rich with the smell of dragon dung fertilizer. Mixed in with it were a variety of exotic smells from an equal variety of flora. The greenhouse was also considerably warmer than the outside temperature and Harry quickly grew uncomfortable in his warm clothing. He took off his winter robes, and he saw Susan do the same. The pair lay their robes down on a spare table and shut the door behind them. The humid air was still enough to cause their breathing to heavy.

This greenhouse was one of the largest ones. There were five rows of garden beds separated at twenty meter intervals, three times. Plants of different sizes and colours were growing in their magical splendour throughout the structure.

“Where is she?” asked Susan quietly. She was looking up and down the aisles with Harry trailing behind her. He had never understood Neville’s interest in Herbology but he did have to admit that some of the plants were strangely beautiful.

A patch of soil-free plants caught Harry’s eye. He turned away from Susan, who was walking to the other end of the greenhouse, and examined a small card with a picture of a familiar plant in front of the garden bed. Although he knew very little of the plant life in this greenhouse – used predominantly for seventh year students – he recognized the name of the absent shoot.

Chervil

(Anthriscus cerefolium)

What purpose would someone have to steal chervil, let alone from Hogwarts, one of the most secure areas in Wizarding Britain? Even if it was the sole supplier of the magical variety – it wasn’t entirely uncommon for common plants to have magical properties that were only cultivated using certain fertilisers and soils – in England, what purpose would acquiring chervil have? Harry re-examined the card, noting the underlined piece of text at the bottom.

Medicinal use: burns, bad dreams, stomach ailments.

Burns? Harry repeated to himself. The only person I know who needs to worry about burns would be… Harry could’ve kicked himself. How had he missed this before? Bellatrix Lestrange. The mentally unstable right-hand ma-woman of Voldemort had been burnt devastatingly in their last encounter, courtesy of the temperament of one French witch.

That meant two, of which Harry knew about, events in the past two months that likely had connections to Voldemort. He had no hard evidence whatsoever, all of it circumstantial, but his mind was beyond that step. It was down to an instinctual level, and Harry’s instincts told him that these two events were related to him. Voldemort and his Death Eaters had somehow managed to steal the chervil from this greenhouse and remove the carcass of the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets without anyone’s notice.

Harry was confident that Dumbledore would be aware if a Death Eater had gained access to Hogwarts – that isn’t Draco Malfoy, he added as an afterthought. Putting what faith he had left in the Headmaster, Harry considered the other options. It was unlikely that there were two separate individuals involved, and that meant the second Parselmouth was also the one responsible for the theft of the chervil. But who could it be? And how could he find one Parselmouth in a castle filled with several hundred people?

His thoughts were disrupted from pursuing that line of internal inquiry by a call of his name from the other side of the greenhouse. Giving the bare patch of soil one last glance, he stepped between the garden beds until he saw the tell-tale sign of Susan Bones – her plaited strawberry blonde hair – down one of the aisles. She was kneeling with an arm around the form of her best friend. Hannah was sitting with her head in her hands with her legs bent in front of her. He could barely hear their whispered words.

“…you mean?” Susan was asking. Her body was tense.

“No.” Hannah’s reply was surprisingly harsh in its quietness. “I don’t want to.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Why do you think this happened?”

“What do you…?” Susan trailed off as she began to understand. Then, outraged, said, “Hannah, how could you think that?”

Hannah raised her head enough to stare at her friend in the eye. Harry was too far away to see her clearly in the half-light underneath a raised garden bed. However, he noticed that Hannah didn’t detect his presence. He continued to eavesdrop, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“My parents are dead because I’m friends with him.” Hannah hissed.

Susan hesitated a moment at the venom in her friends tone. “Hannah, you don’t seriously believe that do you? This is... Vol-Voldemort’s fault! Not Harry’s!”

“They wouldn’t have been a target –”

“Yes, they would have!” Susan half-yelled. Suddenly, it seemed Susan wasn’t composed anymore. “You’re a half-blood, Hannah! Your mother was a Muggle! You know what that means to him.”

Harry from his eavesdropping position noticed Hannah’s fists clench. Through the raw anger in her response, her anguish was evident.

“Don’t talk about her in the past tense!”

Susan was speechless for a long moment before slumping down next to Hannah. She put an arm around her. “I’m sorry, Hannah. I didn’t mean to yell at you. I loved her, too.”

Harry heard a sob and his discomfit at eavesdropping tripled immediately. Why did he keep ending up where he shouldn’t, good intentions or not?

He was about to leave when he saw Susan looking up at him. The grief and pain on her face was clear, and Harry gestured his intent to leave the two alone. However, he paused when he saw Hannah look up to see where her friends’ attention had gone.

The look Hannah gave him was anything but pleasant.

“This is your fault.”

It wasn’t said loudly, but every syllable hit Harry like a sucker punch to the stomach.

“Hannah!” Susan hissed.

Hannah shrugged away Susan’s hand. “Are you going to side with him? After all we’ve been through? After we took you in?”

The look of hurt on Susan’s face did not dissuade Hannah in the least. The two locked eyes for a long moment, until Susan turned to Harry and said apologetically, “Maybe it’d be better if you left.”

Harry nodded and turned away, not trusting his voice to not betray the bitterness he felt. He’d done nothing wrong, right? He’d told them the risks, many times. They said they knew. Perhaps this was a case of hearing of and experiencing being entirely separate from each other.

Nevertheless, Harry couldn’t resist falling into a foul mood. He recovered his robe and left the two girls in the greenhouse. Professor Sprout was waiting for him.

“How is Miss Abbot?”

Harry told her the truth. “Not well.”

Sprout frowned and dismissed him. Harry began trudging his way back to the castle feeling worse than he had since Ron and Ginny’s betrayal.

-x-x-x-x-x-

“She’s lashing out at you, Harry, because of your connection to Voldemort. Give her time. Hannah will realise this isn’t your fault soon enough, I know it.”

Hermione watched Harry pace the empty classroom with concern. Harry’s reaction when it came to deaths around him was obvious; he blamed himself. But there was truly nothing he could’ve done to stop Voldemort’s attack on the Abbott family home. Surely he knew this deep down.

The sounds of Harry’s feet shuffling suddenly ceased. “Do you remember our conversation after you were kidnapped, Hermione? We spoke about the families of the group. That they’d be a target. That we’d try to find ways to protect them.”

The look on Hermione’s face told Harry she did remember.

“We failed.”

“Come here, Harry.” Hermione said softly. Harry hesitated a moment and then complied, closing the distance.

Hermione stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. After a moment, Harry returned the embrace. It was still a little weird, after what happened, but it was getting easier, more comfortable and natural.

Then, she spoke. “Voldemort’s plans are a complete mystery to us. There was no way we could predict if or when he’ll attack anyone or anything. What protections could we come up with that most families wouldn’t have already? We aren’t geniuses, Harry. We’re teenagers.”

Despite recognising the validity of her point, Harry remained despondent. Hermione tightened her embrace for a moment and then released him, looking him in the eyes.

“We can do better next time,” Hermione said assuredly. “Everyone makes mistakes, Harry. The best people learn from them.”

Harry mulled over those words for the remainder of the night. She was right, as usual. He didn’t know enough about defences and protections to justifiably advise or criticise any. There was nothing he could’ve done. In the future he could do better.

Yet, Hannah’s blaming him still hurt.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Susan and Hannah weren’t present at meals for the following few days. Ernie informed the rest of the group that she’d not emerged from her dorm, with Susan staying by her side except to bring meals to Hannah and to provide updates for him. Three students, two of them Hufflepuffs, unenrolled from Hogwarts and left the day after Hannah received the news.

Two days after, the next DA meeting was held. A sombre atmosphere prevailed with the noticeable absence of the liveliest two in their group.

On the third day, Hannah made an appearance at breakfast. Her eyes were red with obvious dark lines beneath them. However, she determinedly avoided the stares and whispering and sat at the Hufflepuff table. Susan, mostly unseen, sat beside her, looking equally sleep deprived but defiant, challenging the starers to comment.

Harry kept an eye on the pair during the meal, once catching Susan’s eye and receiving a half smile. Hannah never looked in his direction.

While trekking his way to his first lesson of the day, a familiar voice called out his name. The voice belonged to Susan. She looked out of breath, as if she’d chased after him from the Great Hall. Harry excused himself from Hermione and Neville and apprehensively greeted her.

“I wanted to catch you and apologise,” said Susan. “You didn’t deserve that, and I’m sorry for dragging you along and then asking you to leave like that.”

“It’s okay.” Harry replied, and then shook his head. “You did nothing wrong. Shouldn’t have been there in the first place.”

Susan was visibly relieved. “Thanks for understanding. And I’m sorry about what Hannah said. I know she doesn’t mean it. Under different circumstances, I know she’d have been appreciative that you came to see if she was alright.”

That was a statement Harry was more reticent towards responding. Hermione and Susan’s assurances notwithstanding, it wasn’t easy to hear from someone you considered a friend, who’d even flirted with you on occasion, that you were responsible for the death of their parents. He couldn’t simply forget that, could he?

Something must have shown on his face, for Susan’s expression turned crestfallen.

Harry gathered his thoughts and then spoke. “It’s alright, Susan. It hurt is all, hearing her say that. I know she didn’t mean it, but...”

“... I understand.” Susan turned aside and became thoughtful. “When she accused me...  I hadn’t felt that bad since Auntie... I don’t want to feel that ever again.”

There wasn’t much Harry could think to say to that. Silence reigned.

When she spoke next, Susan’s voice was tight with emotion. “Hannah’s parents were truly good people. I can’t believe they’re gone. Now she’s my only family, Harry. The only one left.”

The voices of fellow students on approach reached their ears.

“I made a promise to you, Harry,” began Susan, “that I would help you to the best of my abilities. That hasn’t changed.”

Despite the circumstances, her loyalty lifted his spirits. It still surprised him the amount of loyalty he’d inspired from people he’d hardly known until five months ago.

But then Susan made one more statement.

“Hannah might not feel the same.”

A group of Ravenclaws appeared around a corner, heading in their direction. Their appearance and presence quashed any thought of a response from Harry, and Susan took that moment to quickly depart. He stood there for several minutes wondering what exactly she’d meant.

-x-x-x-x-x-

In spite of the recent tragedies and gradual decrease in student population, the general atmosphere in the castle remained fairly normal. The school-wide DA classes were often the most active and cheerful times for the majority of the school. For Harry, it was tainted by the absence of Susan and Hannah. Hermione and Padma spent large portions of the meetings keeping him distracted. It helped prevent Harry dwelling on either of them.

Ron, of all people, asked how Hannah was faring, knowing Harry had become friends with her. Lacking a proper response, that conversation had been filled with awkward pauses and complex feelings. Some things were too challenging to overcome so quickly, no matter how strong the previous friendship. The betrayal was still far too fresh and it was to be a long, long time before any trust could return. Harry had to admit, however, awkward half-conversations were more enjoyable than ignoring each other.

But all the good will from the meetings had to be disrupted eventually.

One evening a week after Hannah’s letter, while sitting with Hermione in the common room, the portrait opened to permit a decidedly angry Parvati through. Without giving the room a momentarily glance, she stormed passed a pair of unlucky second years who barely sidestepped out of the way before she barrelled right over them.

“What was that about? I’ve never seen ‘er like that.”

Harry turned to see Seamus, Dean and Neville standing beside the desk Harry was sharing with Hermione. Seamus, the one who’d spoken, was looking over at the female dorm steps which Parvati had just disappeared up.

Turning back to his year mates, he said, “Your guess is as good as mine.”

A moment later the portrait opened again and Lavender stepped through. She was panting with exertion and looking deeply concerned. It appeared she’d chased after the furious Parvati.

Harry exchanged a look with Hermione, whom was mostly preoccupied with an essay for Professor McGonagall. Nevertheless, she’d witnessed both entrances too.

“You should talk to Lavender, Harry.” Hermione said, pointing at the blonde woman with her quill. “Quick, before she goes up after Parvati.”

He sighed. Getting in the middle of Parvati and Lavender is the last thing he wanted after the disastrous attempt to help Hannah. Nevertheless, he couldn’t let it go after Padma and Lavender had independently spoken with him over the subject.

Dean, Seamus and Neville gave Harry expectant looks as he stood. “I think I might know,” was all he said.

Harry quickly intercepted Lavender before she could make it to the stairs. Up close, one could see the redness around her eyes.

“You might be better off leaving her alone to calm down.”

Lavender looked up in the general direction of where Parvati was and resisted the urge to push past. Harry had never seen her look so troubled before, even during their last conversation. Eventually, she looked back to Harry and he forced a smile.

“Can we talk?” she asked softly.

Harry nodded and led her up to his dorm; it was the only nearby place he figured would be empty. The room was its standard mess around Ron, Dean and Seamus’ beds. Neville and Harry were much neater.

The blonde scrunched her nose in distaste at the sight of the mess. Harry resisted the urge to laugh. Instead, he led her over to his bed and leaned against one of the posts, facing his companion.

“I’ve never been up here before.” Lavender remarked. Her eyes roamed the room until she hit Harry’s section of the room. She raised an eyebrow at the comparative cleanliness. Then, Lavender gave him a smile, one not quite as dazzling as usual.

“You have me all alone in your room. Whatever would people say if they knew?”

Harry gave her a disgruntled look. She continued to smile, perhaps a little weaker than before. Whatever had happened, it was haunting Lavender. Normally she’d make him embarrassed within thirty seconds, but this time... She wasn’t herself.

“What happened?” he asked pointedly. “Did you two argue?”

Lavender, with great reluctance, nodded.

“What about?”

“Padma, of course,” said Lavender eventually. She walked over to the window between Harry’s and Ron’s beds. “After their fight during the break, I’ve been trying to find a good time to bring the topic up. You know, tell Parvati that Padma was just as hurt by her mothers’ death as she was, but dealt with it differently.”

“Parvati completely ignored my hints at wanting to talk about that, so instead of I focused on what she is fixated on: you and Padma.” Lavender said, and she turned to face Harry, sitting up on the window sill. “I thought if I could resolve the situation between you three, they could sort out their differences about their stepmother themselves. I’ve never met her. I don’t know what to do about that.”

Lavender kicked her legs back and forth. “So I did. I talked about you and Padma being friends. I said as gently as I could that Padma wasn’t in the wrong to be friends with you.” She locked eyes with Harry for a moment. “She was right, you know – Padma. Parvati never really tried to be friends with you. What’s the word for what’s Parvati being about this? Illogical?”

“You didn’t say that to her, did you? That she was being illogical? Or echoed Padma’s point?”

She frowned and Harry swore he saw her eyes water, but she looked away before he could really tell. “I didn’t get far enough for that. I thought I was getting through to her. I mentioned she should accept that you two are friends. She was listening to me and admitted she had been harsh on Padma. Then I said she should apologise and reconcile with the pair of you, and then it happened.” She sighed. “Then she received a letter.”

A letter?

“Who was it from?” he asked.

“Her father,” answered Lavender. “I recognised the handwriting. I asked what was it about, but she didn’t respond. So I watched her and waited, you know. Trying to figure out what it was. I was concerned since I’d been making so much progress about her and Padma.”

“So...?” prompted Harry.

“So when she stopped reading, there was nothing. Zip. No reaction at all. Then out of nowhere she scrunched up the letter and burnt it. She scared me...” admitted Lavender. “I tried asking what was wrong, but she wouldn’t talk to me about it anymore. Instead, she rounded on me about Padma.”

The young woman wiped at her eyes and let out of a humourless chuckle. “She accused me of siding with Padma.”

Harry was at a total loss at what to say.

“I tried to explain myself, but she wasn’t listening anymore.” Lavender continued. “She just yelled. Then she told me her father wanted to leave Britain and return to India. And take her and Padma with him.”

Harry was taken aback. Leave Britain...?

“Then she stormed off and left me there.” Lavender hugged her shoulders. “I can’t believe it, Harry. Parvati leaving... She’s my best friend.” She paused, and sighed. “Yet, even before this she’s been acting so weird.” She paused again for a long moment. “I don’t like who Parvati is anymore, Harry.”

Nor did Harry. But he didn’t have the friendship with Parvati that Lavender had shared since their first year. What if Hermione had started acting this strangely? What would he do?

“I love her; she’s my best friend, but...”

She sounded defeated.

Something about it struck a chord in Harry.

“Are you going to give up then?”

Startled by the question, Lavender looked up at Harry again. Her eyes were wet. “What?”

“Keep trying,” insisted Harry. “If you really love her and value her friendship. Would you want her to give up on you?”

“No...”

“Then keep trying to reach through to her. You’re the one she’s always been with at Hogwarts. Only you would be able to get through to her. Especially if...” This time Harry paused, thinking about what it meant if Padma would be leaving. “...if she’s leaving. Try and make things right between you two.”

Harry could tell she was still unconvinced, but he didn’t know how else to encourage her. If the strength of her friendship with Parvati extended only this much, then it only extended this much.

“Okay.” Lavender suddenly said. “I don’t know if it’ll make a difference, but I’ll try again.”

Harry simply offered her a smile, uncertain to the source of her new drive. Lavender bade farewell, no doubt seeking out Parvati. Instead of returning to Hermione, Harry lay down on his bed and contemplated the situation with Padma, her sister and Lavender. Their possible departure aside, if Parvati couldn’t be reasoned with, there was nothing he could think of to resolve the situation except to cease his contact with Padma. But that wasn’t an option. Parvati had no right to dictate who he could be friends with. Padma would agree, he knew.

So where did that leave them?

-x-x-x-x-x-

That evening, Harry sought out Padma.

He knew it was her night to patrol the corridors as part of her Prefect duties. The map provided her location, and it wasn’t long until he spotted her walking slowly down one Hogwarts’ many corridors.

“Hey,” greeted Harry, drawing up to her side. Padma jumped, startled at his appearance. She’d clearly been absorbed in her own world.

“Oh, Harry. Hi.” Padma said quickly. She laughed half-heartedly, shaking off her surprise. “I’m sorry. I’ve had a lot on my mind today. What are you doing here? Is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I wanted to talk to you.” He watched her expression, seeing if she would figure out why he was there. She usually was perceptive that way.

He didn’t have long to wait.

“You know? You’ve spoken with Parvati?” Her voice was soft, sad, as she turned away.

“Lavender, actually,” admitted Harry. “She was with Parvati discussing you when the letter was delivered. Parvati took the news poorly from what I gather.”

“She did?” Padma said hesitantly. “I thought she’d be pleased.”

“Pleased?”

“More time with our step-mother?” she said tartly. “I can see her being pleased about that. That doesn’t even take into account her opinion of our friendship. My leaving would hinder what friendship we have.”

She stopped walking, turned and leant back against a wall, sighing. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to drag you into our dilemmas, and certainly not for you to hear me sound so petulant.”

“It’s okay.” Harry said with a shrug. For some reason, he was much more comfortable comforting Padma than many others – Hannah for instance. “You practically never complain about anyone or anything. I think we can forgive this little slight.”

That earned him the smallest of smiles.

“How are you?” he finally asked. His tone conveyed his complete sincerity.

Padma stared at her feet for a time before suddenly looking up at him, directly into his eyes. “I don’t want to leave, Harry. I don’t want to leave Hogwarts, Su, the DA, or you... I’m happy here, with all this. I’ve made friends here, and I’m not ready to leave them.”

She pushed herself off of the wall and started pacing. The hallways were quiet except for her footfalls.

“Yet I completely understand where my father is coming from.” Padma continued. “I’m afraid for them. We are a family of purebloods, but are not an English family. I believe that logically we are safe from Voldemort. However, we are not supporters of his ideals, and one day he may seek us out for whatever reason. To make an example of us, perhaps.”

As much as he wished to, Harry couldn’t argue with her logic.

“Therefore, I can’t help but think my father has a point. He and my step-mother should certainly follow through and move out of the country. It’s Parvati and I leaving that I have spent the afternoon questioning.”

Her eyes found his. “We’re not in any imminent danger here at Hogwarts. I am happy here. I know it isn’t safe. But with all I have invested in this place and the people here, I... I want to stay.”

“You don’t believe your parents will allow you to stay,” Harry stated.

“It’s unlikely that I would on my own, but Parvati... Maybe if the two of us were united in this decision to finish our school year here, at least, we’d stand a chance.” Padma shook her head. “But the thought of Parvati cooperating with me, let alone wanting to stay as well... I don’t believe it will happen today.”

“You don’t know that,” insisted Harry. “Have you two tried to talk since last time?”

Padma shook her head. “Half-heartedly, maybe, I’ve looked for an opportunity. But I don’t want to fight again. I have no desire to disobey my father either. He’s a good person and has always treated me justly.” For a moment, Padma appeared to be lost in thought. She bit her lip, thinking. Suddenly she became more alert and ceased her pacing.

“Earlier you mentioned Parvati and Lavender were discussing me, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” said Harry slowly, trying to remember exactly what he’d been told. “Lavender said she thought she’d been making progress. I think she said Parvati had admitted she’d been harsh on you.”

Padma nodded but said nothing, processing the information. Harry wondered...

“From what Lavender was describing to me and what I saw, Parvati wasn’t pleased.” Harry said aloud. “Maybe Parvati feels the same; she doesn’t want to leave Hogwarts.”

“Then...” Padma trailed off. Then, her voice ever-so-slightly hopeful, “Perhaps I can talk to her... Father said he would come for us at the end of next week. That gives me some time.”

“If you can work together on this...”

“... Then maybe we can get over this silly fight.” Padma finished, sounding more positive than before. “At the very least, we may be able to convince our parents to let us finish this year at Hogwarts.”

“Lavender might be able to help.” Harry said. “She doesn’t want Parvati to leave.”

“This might work. If both Lavender and myself...” Padma smiled at him. It wasn’t a big one, but it was hopeful. “Thank you, Harry, for coming to find me. You really are a good friend.”

Uncertain how to respond, he gave her a smile in return.

“I’ll find a chance to speak with her,” continued Padma, “and talk to Lavender too. If you can, try and appeal to her. Every bit will help.”

“I’ll try.” That said, he wasn’t looking forward to being put in the crossfire again. But Padma was someone he kind of enjoying having around...

Padma looked to her watch. “Merlin, it’s getting late. I need to finish my patrol.” She looked up and smiled at him once more, a proper one this time, genuine. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She turned and began to walk away. Harry watched her walk away, his mind still on her smile.

He licked his suddenly dry lips and quietly said, “See you tomorrow.”

-x-x-x-x-x-

It was eight days after her parents were murdered, and the day after the funeral, when Hannah approached Harry.

Susan had been at her side the entire time, as she was now. Hannah avoided looking him in the eyes until Susan nudged her not-so-gently.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” she said softly. She was looking him in the eyes; they were shifting rapidly, not stopping for more than a moment. Harry didn’t know what to make of it. “I know you’re not fault here. I...” her voice broke, and she looked away as her eyes watered. Susan reached out and grasped Hannah’s hand, giving it a tight squeeze. Harry saw it returned.

“It’s okay,” replied Harry. He wasn’t sure if it was. But what could he do? Say no in the face of what she’d lost? That kind of guilt was something he could live without.

“Sssh,” whispered Susan. Hannah took a long moment to compose herself. Harry felt ridiculous standing there not knowing what to do.

“I know it’s not your fault my... p-parents are gone.” Hannah managed. “I know whose fault it is. A-and I’ll be with Susan wherever she goes.” Harry could see the struggle not to break down again. Susan enveloped her friend in an embrace, giving Harry a look over her shoulder. She smiled sadly. Harry understood. It’d take time before she was better.

Mixed feelings were how Harry described what he felt. Perhaps it was simply the bitterness he felt towards Hannah after her blaming him, which had festered over the past week, but Harry couldn’t help notice she’d said she’d follow Susan, not him, and wondered if there was anything more too why she’d spoken so precisely.

After a whispered conversation, the pair separated and Hannah headed out of earshot. Harry gave Susan a questioning look.

“I asked if I could speak to you alone for a moment.”

“What’s wrong?” asked Harry. Then, he added as an afterthought, “Aside from the obvious.”

“It’s true, just so you know.” Susan said as if he hadn’t spoken. “Hannah doesn’t blame you anymore. But I’m worried, Harry.”

Harry began to feel horribly guilty about feeling glad he wasn’t being blamed for something he had no control over.

“Worried about...?”

Susan sighed, and looked Harry dead in the eye. “It’s not you she blames anymore, Harry. It’s herself she blames.”

“Herself?” repeated a dumbfounded Harry. “I don’t understand. We had no way of knowing they would be targeted...”

“Harry, she’s grieving,” replied Susan, her voice hitching. “I think... she thinks she should’ve been there to save them, I don’t know. I’m just trying to make sure she comes out the other side of this, not understand it.”

The hug was instinctive, and one of the few Harry had initiated outside of his time with Hermione. Susan accepted it and let out a quiet sob. It was nearly a minute before she was calm again.

“I’d better go,” she said softly. “Thank you for that.” Susan then let out a small laugh. “It’s funny how things change. A fortnight ago we were trying to decide the best way to show you we were serious about that Christmas present...”

Harry really didn’t know what to say.

Susan left it at that and walked off to be with Hannah. It was something, at least, that they had each other. Harry didn’t want to wonder what would’ve become of either without the other. He hoped he’d never have to see it.

-x-x-x-x-x-

As February drew to a close, Susan and Hannah returned to both incarnations of the DA. While her depression was apparent, her peers were glad to see Hannah out of her dorm and actively involved in class and her extracurricular activities.

Other concerns reared their heads, among them the mystery of the Parselmouth. Hermione and Padma had fruitlessly scoured the library books that referenced Parselmouths for a method to recognise or detect one. Without a means of detection, their search was at a dead end.

Just as well. As the last weekend in February approached, so did the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Harry’s role as Captain ate up what little free time Harry had between: classes, extra lessons, and the DA. Dean Thomas had been brought in to replace Ginny due to her Quidditch ban. He was in need of practice but capable. Katie and Demelza would be carrying the attack on Saturday, however.

The match was close until the Snitch factored in. Gryffindor won 260-140. Dean had played his role well, acting as a disruptor to the opposing Chasers plays and working as an intermediary between Katie and Demelza on their attacking runs. Hufflepuff’s Beaters had shattered the defence, however, to maintain a slight lead throughout most of the game.

The elation in the wake of the victory was short lived. The following morning, news arrived about another series of attacks by Death Eaters, this time in Bristol, Portsmouth, Cambridge and Birmingham. The fatality count on both sides was nine. Harry recognised none of the named Death Eaters, except for a former Slytherin who was in his final year during Harry’s first.

Questions, about the amount of Death Eaters there were, re-emerged from the recesses of Harry’s mind. The Aurors were taking more and more Death Eaters with them, but no members of Voldemort’s inner circle had been caught or killed. He clearly was saving them for something else, some other purpose. But what?

It was one night while contemplating this before bed that Harry noticed a faint buzzing noise emanating from his trunk. Confused, he used his wand to handle his possessions, not taking any chances, moving them aside one by one until he reached the bottom. Lying there vibrating was the brown, ornate communication box Fleur had given him for Christmas.

It had been weeks since Harry had last given Fleur more than a cursory thought, and truth be told the communication box had been forgotten. A moment of hesitancy passed before he picked up the box and opened it.

Written on the pad In Fleur’s elegant handwriting was a message.

Harry,

I wish I was writing to you with happier news. Instead, I write to confess something.

I have spoken with Bill and told him what happened between us. I could not stand to withhold the truth any longer. I love him, I truly do, and I want us to work. I felt you should know in case the pair of you converse in the future.

Bill and I have been strained at best over the last few months. But I believe we may be able to work things out. To that effort, I am staying with the Order but I must withdraw my involvement in your group. Bill does not trust you, as you can imagine, and you know of his objections when I originally joined. I feel this is for the best, for all of us.

Harry, if you ever need my help, you have but to ask and I will assist you any way I am able. However, I must distance myself from you for now.

I wish you the best of luck. I hope that with time we may resume our friendship.

All the best,

Fleur

Harry leant back into his pillow and reread the message. Sighing, he closed the box and laid it down beside him.

So Bill now knew that Fleur and he had kissed? Harry wondered how Bill had reacted to that, how that conversation played out. Not positively or well, certainly. But if Bill and Fleur resolved this issue and were happy with each other, Harry was happy for them.

Her withdrawal from the DA didn’t come as a huge surprise. As she’d written, Bill was against it from the outset. She probably compromised with Bill, to distance herself from Harry. It was a loss, but not significant. At this stage, while he was still at Hogwarts, her assistance was superfluous. Later on, perhaps he’d feel the loss more...

It surprised him how little he actually felt about the entire thing. Time and space did seem to heal all wounds. Or recent and current events were too distracting to give those nights any consideration.

For a moment, Harry considered broaching the topic with Hermione. He wasn’t sure why. To ask why Fleur had even told him? To wonder about how Fleur and Bill were fairing? To talk about how he felt about it all?

No, there really wasn’t much point. He was glad they were trying to sort things out. That was the end of it.

Harry sat up and picked the box back up. He held it in his palm, staring at it, contemplating responding. Instead, he put it back in his trunk and repacked it, leaving it to be forgotten once again.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

“Well done everyone,” congratulated Harry. “We’ll call it a day here. The next meeting will be the day after tomorrow at eight p.m.”

The mishmash of Hogwarts students began the process of evacuating the Room of Requirement for their dormitories. The last two hours had passed at a rapid pace. It seemed too short sometimes. But teaching his fellow students was immensely satisfying when the results were shown, and they were beginning to show.

The highlight, however, was the return of a much more cheerful Susan. Hannah was present also, and was more cheerful than she’d appeared to him in the last fortnight. It was nice to see a half smile at Lavender’s misaimed spell hitting the ground beneath Ernie, causing him to slip and fall on his arse, when her target had been several dozen feet to Ernie’s right.

Ernie’s reaction was a little less positive. For a dangerous second he appeared to be gearing up for another tirade, but it was Hannah’s half smile that calmed him down.

Despite the positives throughout the meeting, Harry had that sinking feeling. That one you have when you know you’re doing something very, very stupid and still won’t stop regardless of how bad an idea it may be.

Padma and Lavender had hung back. From their expressions and whispered conversation, Harry guessed they were preparing themselves to confront Parvati.

Harry sighed and walked closer to the pair, hoping that this time things would go better.

Padma noticed him first.

“Harry...”

Damnit.

Damn those eyes pleading with him, hoping he would help. Why’d he have to agree? The dispute between the Patil twins wasn’t something he should be intruding on, but how could he say no now?

All too quickly Harry found himself with the Patil twins and Lavender, alone. Tense was an apt word for the atmosphere. Displeased described Parvati just as aptly.

“You lied to me, Lav.” Parvati glared at her best friend. “You promised you wouldn’t become involved. And you wouldn’t do anything with him.”

Lavender looked regretful for a moment. Then, she met her friends’ eyes. “You haven’t been my friend for months now, Parv. I want the old you back.”

“Parvati, can we please talk?” pleaded Padma.

“I’m not listening to another intervention. I’m leaving.”

Without another glance, she started to leave the empty room. Padma looked after her, defeated.

Almost without a second thought, Harry stepped forward and said, “Hear them out, Parvati.” She continued without stopping. Bloody hell, she’s stubborn.

Harry reached for something to make Parvati stay, to at least hear them out. The only thing that came to mind was, “Padma doesn’t want to leave Hogwarts either.”

Parvati’s footsteps faltered.

“Parvati, please,” continued Harry, seizing the opportunity, “just hear them out. Look, I know I shouldn’t be here, but Parvati, your sister wanted my help. You’re not even giving her a chance to talk to you anymore, so what do you expect she’d do? Give up on you? Whatever slight you think she has done… is it worth completely ignoring her?”

“Now you two are ganging up on me? Is that what you two are up to all the time behind my back?”

For a moment, Harry could do nothing but marvel at the sheer pettiness that Parvati was exhibiting.

“Parvati,” he began, softly and calmly, “Please, for the sake of Padma and yourself, give it a rest. You’re acting like a child, and can’t you see how much it’s hurting her?”

“Stay out of this,” snarled Parvati, rounding on him.

“Stop it, Parv!” exclaimed Lavender. “Stop it, please. Harry doesn’t deserve this.”

Predictably, that claim was received poorly. Harry cursed under his breath. The situation was deteriorating fast.

“Parvati, listen to your sister,” said Harry. “Whatever the differences between you two and your stepmother, or whatever the issue is, is it really worth throwing away your sister for it? You don’t know how lucky you are to have a sibling, let alone one that cares about you so much.”

He sighed, feeling more and more uncomfortable with every passing second. But he wasn’t going to let Parvati just walk out like this. “If you don’t like what they have to say, we won’t stop you. But damnit, Parvati, this is your sister and your best friend! They deserve better than the way you’ve been treating them.”

Parvati was yet to move. At least, Harry figured, that meant she was listening.

“He’s right…” Padma said in a small voice. “I don’t want to return to India yet. I have so much here that’s important to me… I’m not ready to leave it behind.”

“I don’t want you to go either, Parv.” Lavender said. “I know it’s selfish… but I want you here with me.”

Parvati turned around to face her sister and friend. “I don’t want to leave yet either.” She shrugged. “But you know dad. He won’t change his mind just for us.”

“You don’t know that.” Padma countered. “We haven’t agreed on something this important for a long time! That will at least get him to listen to us. Take us seriously.”

She shook her head.

Padma remained persistent, albeit her voice strangled as she said, “Remember… remember when mother passed. He wanted us to move away then, but we convinced him to stay.”

“That was… that was because I didn’t want to return without her…” whispered Parvati. “It was too soon.”

“I know… I felt the same way.”

Harry shifted his weight from foot to foot, wondering if Lavender felt the same intrusiveness he was feeling.

“He understood us then,” Padma persisted. “We can make him understand again. If nothing else, we could argue that we finish our school year so as to not disrupt our education.”

Parvati closed her eyes. Harry could tell that Padma was getting to her.

“I want him to leave.”

Harry’s heart sank. Had he been wrong?

“Parvati…” began Padma.

“I’ll listen; I’ll talk to you, but tell him to leave.”

Padma turned to Harry with a helpless expression. “Harry, I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay. I’ll go.” In a small way he was grateful for the exit. He’d done his part and gotten Parvati to the table so to speak. The rest was their issues, not his.

He edged close to her and laid a hand on her shoulder. He whispered, “Good luck.”

“Can you wait outside…?” she whispered back. He searched her eyes, and found he couldn’t even contemplate saying no. He nodded.

He gave Parvati and Lavender a quick glance before leaving the room. He felt Parvati’s watchful eyes every second of the twenty paces to the door. He shut it quietly behind him.

The following twenty minutes crawled by. Nobody passed the corridor outside the Room of Requirement. With the room itself soundproofed, his surroundings were silent, leaving Harry to wonder how the conversation fared.

Suddenly, the door opened beside him and Parvati emerged. Harry jumped at her arrival and met her eyes for the briefest moment. Her expression was inscrutable. Her eyes were teary. But they were also hard, almost cold. Had the conversation turned sour after all?

Without saying a word, she walked passed him and left him alone. A minute later, the door opened again and Lavender and Padma emerged.

“How’d it go?” asked Harry immediately. He searched their faces, met their eyes.

He saw hope in Padma’s.

“She’s agreed to try and convince daddy to stay for the rest of the year.” Padma said with hesitant excitement. Perhaps in spite of herself, she smiled. It was a real, genuine smile too.

Lavender, also smiling, continued, “I think we might see some of the old Parvati back again.”

“It’s too early to say,” said Padma, trying to be calm and collected. But her excitement was becoming more prevalent. “I do think we made real progress though.”

“That’s great,” said Harry softly. He meant it, too. But he was surprised. Half an hour ago reconciliation seemed impossible. What had happened in there?

Lavender and Padma turned to each other and shared a strange silent exchange.

“Parv’s still not terribly fond of you,” began Lavender, turning back to face Harry.

“She was very adamant about you not speaking to her.” Padma finished.

Somewhat perplexed, Harry just nodded. He could live with that. But the question ‘why’ persisted in his mind.

“I’ll keep my distance,” he promised.

“I’ll try and work on getting her to forgive you, but it might take some time. I don’t want to risk losing her again.”

“It’s fine, Lavender.” Harry shook his head. “I can live with this.”

He exchanged a look with Padma. She smiled at him.

“Anyway, I’ll leave you two alone,” said Lavender suddenly, looking between the two of them. “I have curfew to worry about.” Then, with surprising glee, she added, “And so much gossip to catch up on!”

The blonde bounded off with poorly disguised glee. Harry exchanged a look with Padma and smiled too.

“You really managed to sort things out?”

Padma tucked some loose hair behind her ear. Now that he was paying attention, Harry noted her eyes were red. She had cried at some point.

“I think we might have. She listened to me, to us.”

Harry contemplated mentioning what he’d seen of Parvati when she’d left. But the look on Padma’s face, the hope in her eyes... He couldn’t take that away from her, not without being sure. She could’ve just been angry at him still.

“Thank you, Harry.” Padma met his eyes and smiled. “Thank you for saying what you did. I believe it really helped her realise how she’d been acting.” She laughed a little. “I thought you’d gone too hard at first, but when she didn’t leave... I... I don’t know.  Just... Just, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Padma continued to look into his eyes. Harry returned the gaze, taking in her now undisguised happiness at having her sister potentially returning to her.

“I’m with you all the way, Harry,” said Padma softly. “I’ll see this through with you.” She touched his check with one hand, slowly caressing it. “We can do this if we work together, all of us. I know it.”

Harry closed her eyes. The contact... He struggled not to reach and grasp her hand. This wasn’t the time for that sort of thing...

He opened his eyes and saw that they were closer than they thought. His eyes were drawn to her eyes, cheeks, and a blemish on her right check. Her lips... Never had he felt such a strong urge to kiss someone than he did in that moment.

“Ooooo, what does Peevesie have here?” came the cackling voice of Poltergeist. Harry and Padma jumped apart at the intrusion, looking away from each other. Harry could feel his face burning. “Potty’s in lurrrrrve.”

God, the timing. Harry wanted to kill that damn poltergeist. Instead, he said, “Go away, Peeves. I have it on good authority the Bloody Baron is enjoying spending his nights in the area.”

Peeves just cackled some more and flew away chanting “Potty’s in lurrrrve.”

An awkward silence reigned after Peeves’s chants faded from earshot. Harry sighed. Just as well. He wasn’t sure if there hadn’t been an interruption he would’ve been able to stop himself...

And just why would you want to stop? He asked himself.

Uncertain of the answer, he gave Padma a smile which she returned. Without saying a word, they started walking towards her dorm.

They exchanged a wordless parting outside her common room. Harry spent many hours in that night imagining what would’ve happened had they not been interrupted.

-x-x-x-x-x-

“Very good, Harry.” Flitwick said in that persistent cheerful manner. “Your reactions and timing are sharper than ever. I wish I could have duelled you as you are now when I was your age. It would have been one marvellous match!”

“Thank you, sir,” replied Harry breathlessly. How the Professor wasn’t showing more signs of weariness than heavier breathing was beyond him. They’d been duelling almost non-stop for half an hour, only pausing for Flitwick to point out and remedy openings and errors in Harry’s duelling style – which were fewer and further between as the weeks passed.

“Remember to maintain focus at all times. I felt your attention waver early on.”

True enough, Harry’s mind hadn’t been entirely focused on learning after the events of the previous night. As a result, he’d been caught by surprise several times, and had the bruises to match.

Flitwick waved his wand several times, repairing and cleaning the room they'd used for duelling. “I think we shall finish for the night,” he said.

“Yes, sir.”

However, Flitwick hesitated from departing. The recovering Harry noticed after a few moments.

“Sir?”

“Harry, Professor McGonagall and I wish to speak with you regarding the future of our lessons. Can I trouble you to follow me to her office?”

The total absence of good cheer in Flitwick’s tone sent Harry’s mind racing. Had he done something wrong? He surely couldn’t be progressing too slowly. Flitwick and McGonagall often gave praise to his efforts, and he’d been pushing himself hard.

Realising he hadn’t replied yet, he said, “Of course, sir.”

“Wonderful,” Flitwick responded. “Let us be on our way.”

The walk to McGonagall’s office was a quiet one. Harry spent the entire trip trying to discern what his teachers would say. Before he knew it he was outside McGonagall’s office. Flitwick knocked on the door. A moment later they were granted permission to enter.

“Ah, come in, Filius,” McGonagall said upon their entry. She was seated at her desk, student’s essays in front of her. “Tonight?” Her tone conveyed surprise.

“I believe he’s ready, Minerva.” Flitwick responded confidently.

Harry remained silent. Working with the two Professors’ over the last six months he had developed a sincere and strong sense of respect for the pair of them. He squashed the burning need to appeal to them for the lessons to continue. Between the two of them, he’d learnt more than he had in his first three years combined. But if this was the end of the road, he was grateful he’d been permitted this long under their tutelage.

McGonagall sighed and removed her glasses. “Mr. Potter. Harry.” She replaced her glasses and looked him in the eye. “How would you rate your progress?”

“Professor?” said Harry questioningly. He didn’t quite understand the question. However, upon McGonagall’s prompting he considered the question. “I honestly don’t know. I only have you two to compare myself to. Judging from Professor Flitwick, I still have plenty to learn.”

Flitwick and McGonagall exchanged a look. The former spoke first. “Harry, let us explain the situation.”

“Your request for our assistance to continue your learning at a more rapid pace was peculiar but not unprecedented,” said McGonagall. “Others in the past have requested permission for a similar treatment. However, most were refused on the grounds that our jobs as Professors and Heads of Houses were too demanding. Albus, and ourselves, believe your situation was special enough to warrant an exception.”

“We’ve taught you a lot, Harry.” Flitwick took over again. “More than we expected to. You are capable. More than capable.”

Harry looked between the two Professors’. “I’ve learnt all you can teach me?” his disbelief was evident to all present.

“Far from it,” said McGonagall. “We have plenty more we could teach you. It could take us a decade to instil upon you everything we know. What we’re saying is that our teaching you will draw to a close at the end of term.”

“Professor –”

“Let her speak, Harry,” Flitwick interrupted disapprovingly.

“Harry, you are far more capable a wizard than almost all NEWT level graduates I have had the pleasure of teaching.” McGonagall said bluntly. “You take to practical use of magic like few I have ever witnessed when you apply yourself as you have in the past six months. Your greatest failing at present is a lack of real world application of what we have taught you.”

“That is something we cannot provide much more than we already have.” Flitwick took over. “You’re becoming familiar with the way I duel, and it becomes more challenging every time to hold you at bay as you’ve improved and learnt my moves, for lack of a better term.”

Harry struggled to comprehend that. He didn’t believe himself anywhere near the level of Flitwick, a master dueller. After all, he’d never managed a direct hit in all their duels. The man was surprisingly agile, and seemed to know every counter in the book.

“We can offer you little more that we believe pertinent to any scenario outside an apprenticeship,” continued McGonagall. “You could pass the NEWT practicals for Transfiguration, Charms and Defence right now if you wished, and fairly well. That aside, our work as educators and administrators here is set to increase substantially in the lead up to end of year exams. We would not be able to meet more than perhaps once a fortnight.”

Harry was speechless. He thought back over the dozens of duels he’d had with Flitwick, Hermione, Padma, Neville, and everyone in the DA. His style of duelling had evolved considerably, sure. But was he really capable now? Would he be able to deal with Death Eaters on his own?

That wasn’t a question he could truly answer without experiencing it himself. Did that mean...?

Harry returned to his senses a moment later. He expressed his gratitude to the two Professors and returned to Gryffindor tower, deep in thought.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Hermione was less surprised at this revelation when he spoke to her an hour later. She was patient if not slightly condescending when she told him to really think about the way he duelled now compared to the way the Death Eaters had during the Department of Mysteries.

“You may not be able to defeat someone truly experienced like Tonks or Moody, Harry, but you’d make them work for it.”

Harry went to bed that night starting to believe it.

However, that brought forth thoughts long since pushed aside for a variety of reasons. On some level, Harry wished this moment might never arrive. But it was inevitable ever since he’d taken the steps he’d taken at the start of the year.

If he was capable of handling himself now in a duel, in a life-and-death scuffle, then what was there still at Hogwarts for him? Perhaps, then, it was time to resume planning to leave...

-x-x-x-x-x-

“Harry, I’ve got to run to the Library. I’ll meet you back in the common room after your practice?”

“I’ll be there.” Harry watched Hermione stand beside him and leave the Great Hall with a smile on his face. He could always depend on her for some normalcy, especially dealing with Parvati, Padma and Lavender the other night.

“We should get moving, too,” spoke Demelza’s from behind him. Her face was lit up with amusement and excitement. “I’ve got a few ideas I want to try out.”

“Go ahead,” replied Harry. “I’ll catch up in a minute.”

“Everything alright?” asked Neville, watching with some bemusement as Demelza walked off with a pout on her face. Harry was a bit oblivious to her flirting.

“I’m fine,” said Harry instantly. He shook his head. “Just have a lot on my mind tonight... lately. I haven’t even asked how you’re going since... you know.”

Neville stopped eating and looked down at his plate. “Katie and I are talking sometimes, if that’s what you’re referring to.”

“That’s good to hear.” Harry gave a momentary thought to Fleur and her message from a fortnight passed. It was a nice thought to think that exes weren’t lost as friends. Neville’s voice drew him back to the present.

“That’s debatable. She’s made it clear her opinion on the DA on several occasions now.” Neville ran his hand through his hair. “We’ve argued a few times about it, about you, and me, and me following you. But I can’t help but care about her anyway.”

Harry offered a wry look. Neville saw it and couldn’t help let out a small laugh. “I still can’t believe it even happened. I thought I’d be girlfriendless until after Hogwarts.”

“I know what you mean.”

The pair drifted into a silence, Neville thinking of Katie, Harry thinking of –

“How’s Padma doing?”

Harry jumped a little at the question. “W-what?”

“I saw Parvati this morning and she looked like she was almost her usual self,” explained Neville. “I assume you spoke to her and Padma...?”

“Oh, right, yeah, she’s fine.”

Neville gave Harry a knowing grin. “You like her, don’t you.”

It wasn’t even a question.

When did Neville start paying attention to this sort of thing?

“I should get to practice,” said Harry, changing the subject. “Captain can’t be late.”

Neville just continued with that damn grin. Harry couldn’t resist a laugh. It was nice, the camaraderie that was developing between the pair of them. It wasn’t the same as it was with Ron. It was different, but no less important. And as much as he loved talking with Hermione and Padma, it was nice to have male company.

“Give me a sec, and I’ll walk with you.” Neville quickly finished the remains on his plate. The pair rose and left together.

“I was thinking–” began Neville as the pair walked into the Great Hall, only to be interrupted by another familiar voice.

“Hey, Harry, Neville” said a breathless Susan. As usual, Hannah was nearby. But she stayed far enough back to not be a part of the conversation. Harry tried to catch her eye for a moment, but she was resolutely avoiding looking at anyone in particular.

Susan continued to talk during Harry’s attempts at making eye contact. “I just want to tell you that Hannah and I won’t make it to the meet tomorrow morning.”

“Is something wrong?” asked Harry, concerned. He switched his attention to the woman in front of him.

Susan hesitated a little in her response. “Tomorrow morning... Hannah has to see her solicitor about her inheritance.”

Harry’s stomach dropped. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” She paused for a moment while she took a deep breath, “I’ll be with her. I was named in their will... Well, it was my Aunt who was named originally, but everything my Aunt owned is now mine, so...” She looked away and wiped somewhere near her eyes. “We’ll be gone for most of the day I believe, sorting it all out.”

“It’s okay,” said Harry. “Just take care of each other.”

“We will. Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

Susan turned and gathered up Hannah, the pair walking off together.

“Merlin, I’d forgotten all about a will reading.” Neville said from beside Harry. “I never asked about it.”

“Neither had I.”

“They’ll be alright, Harry,” said Neville confidently.

Harry, still watching Susan and Hannah depart, wrenched his mind back on track. He could ponder more on Hannah’s wellbeing later.

“Yeah, they will be. Let’s go.”

Before he could move two steps, three sets of purposeful footfalls approached the pair. They stopped a few meters short. Harry could feel a pair of eyes on him.  

“Ah, Potter,” an all too familiar voice drawled. “Abbot and Bones your new playmates? It’s nice to see you associating with your kind. I suppose the three of you have nobody else to spend the Easter break with after all, unlike the rest of us who actually have a home and a family.”

Harry turned to face Malfoy, who was looking much healthier than the last time Harry had seen him this close – still pale from blood loss. His attitude, clearly, had recovered as well. He also sported that all too familiar smirk of his.

Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott were hovering in the background. Malfoy had finally substituted his goons, had he? However, upon Harry’s cursory glance, they seemed almost disinterested in the proceedings. Present for the sake of a presence.

Harry faced Malfoy again. “What do you want, Malfoy? The last time we crossed, I’m pretty certain I wasn’t he one casting Unforgivables and bleeding all over the place.”

Malfoy seemed surprisingly unperturbed by the reminder of his near death experience. The sole change, in fact, was his smirk, from amusement to something almost dangerous.

“I remember, Potter,” said Malfoy calmly, “and I’ve already exacted my revenge for that. No need to concern yourself.”

Exacted his revenge? Harry thought. What revenge?

Deep in thought, Harry almost missed what was said next.

“But that’s hardly of concern right now.” Malfoy said dismissively. “I’m curious about this group of yours. I’ve noticed a trend. Yourself, Bones, now Abbot...”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “What are you going on about, Malfoy?”

“I’m feeling generous today, Potter. I want to help you out, help you make more friends. I’ve already given you a hand once...”

Something about the tone in Malfoy’s voice, the almost carelessness of it, sparked a dark thought to life in the back of Harry’s mind. Cautiously, Harry took the obvious bait.

“Why?”

“Why else?” Malfoy drawled. “I want us to be best buds.”

A small sense of dread began to fester as the thought grew. Harry resisted the instinctive urge to reach for his wand.

“Slow, aren’t you, Potter?” Malfoy laughed, and his smirk deepened. “I want to help add to the group, of course. You’ve got a candidate right here. Longbottom is practically an orphan as it is.” Malfoy gave Neville a casual look. “If you ask me, you should just put them out of their misery.”

Neville tensed, but exerted self-control he’d not had a year ago. Even so, Harry could sense the anger and hatred Neville was exuding.

“But you’ve been spending time with that Ravenclaw Patil, haven’t you?” continued Malfoy, acting oblivious to Neville’s almost-reaction. “I think she’d do nicely as the next addition; don't you?”

“You should leave, Malfoy,” seethed Neville. “Now.”

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. “Finally grown a pair, have we? It’s about damn time. You’re a disgrace of a pureblood, Longbottom. My deceased grandmother shows more aptitude for magic than you do.”

Neville closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It was taking a lot of restraint, Harry could see, for his friend to not lash out. Then, he opened his eyes again and stared down his tormentor.

“Perhaps we should find out which one of us is the better wizard then, Malfoy,” said Neville with calm intensity. “I think you’re behind the times if you believe I’m weak.”

A sceptical look was all the response Malfoy provided. Instead, his attention returned to Harry.

“It seems unfair to exclude Granger from this new group of yours. We can’t have the two of you separate after all these years. It’s just wrong.” Malfoy shook his head, smirking all the while. “Definitely can’t forget about Patil either. I know a guy who can help out with this sort of thing. He’s helped me out already after all. Maybe I can help you net both of them.”

The dread inside Harry peaked, his stomach bottoming out. It had to be...

“It was you.”

Harry spoke quietly, but everyone heard it. It wasn’t a question either. It was a statement. Fact.

The smirk on Malfoy’s grew triumphant.

“What was me?”

Harry stepped forward, and immediately drew a response from Pansy and Nott, the pair reaching towards their wands. Neville, not entirely understanding yet, also reached for his wand.

“It was you,” repeated Harry. “You put Hannah’s parents as targets. You were the one who ordered their murder.”

Another set of footsteps approached, but Harry ignored them. He was entirely focused on Malfoy’s gloating face.

“Why did you do it?” he almost yelled. “They had nothing to do with you!”

Finally, the evil smile disappeared, replaced instantly with an expression of utter loathing and contempt. “You ask why, Potter? You are why. You are the reason Abbott’s parents are dead, and you’ll be the reason when each and every one of your friends and their families die.”

Harry clenched his fists, struggling to resist decking the bastard before him.

“Next time,” snarled Malfoy, taking a step forward and getting in Harry’s face, “actually kill me.”

Harry snapped. It wasn’t a conscious decision. A half-moment passed and then his wand was in his hand, a spell on the edge of his mind.

But a hand reached out and clasped his arm, pushing it down. It was enough to momentarily stop.

“Don’t do it, Harry,” cautioned Neville. “It’s not worth the trouble that will follow.”

“Listen to the wimp, Potter.” Malfoy took a step back, looking almost entirely unfazed. But Malfoy knew, Harry could tell even through the anger, that if Neville hadn’t been there he’d have been hit and hard. “Remember who you are dealing with the next time you try and interfere. The Dark Lord may have you for himself, but the rest of your little group is free game.”

“Harry,” whispered Neville warningly. “Leave it. Before a Professor comes.”

Malfoy smirked as Harry began to relax. He saw Parkinson and Nott begin to lower their now drawn wands. He hadn’t even noticed them draw.

“Come on,” barked Malfoy, and the pair followed. They didn’t take their eyes of Harry until Malfoy was out of sight.

Neville finally let Harry’s arm go once all three had disappeared. “Merlin, Harry,” he panted. “I could barely stop you in time, you moved so quickly.”

Harry took several steps away from Neville and swore. Hannah’s parents... Malfoy had killed them because of their duel in Myrtle’s bathroom, because Harry had almost killed him. That had been the revenge he’d taken. It had been foolish to think there would be no ramifications for that, but this... this was something else. Malfoy had raised the stakes again.

“You need to play this carefully, Potter.”

This time, it was Daphne who appeared at his side.

Harry whirled to face her. Damnit, she was the last person he wanted to talk to right now. “He sentenced Hannah’s parents to death because of me, Daphne.”

“I know, I heard it all,” said Daphne coldly. She gave Neville a quick appraisal, who was failing to hide his dislike of her and her presence. “You made a good choice stopping him, Longbottom. His next retaliation will be much worse if you don’t think this through.”

“Did you know?” asked Neville, his tone venomous. “Did you know that Hannah’s parents were going to die?”

Daphne narrowed her eyes and spat, “No, I did not. I would have warned you if I could have. In case you don’t remember, I’m not in Malfoy’s circle anymore. I’m not privy to all the details.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be eavesdropping on him?” Neville persisted. “How –”

“Malfoy’s an idiot, but he’s not an idiot,” replied Daphne scathingly. “He takes precautions against being overheard. I can get snatches on conversations on a good day, but he’s becoming more and more paranoid.”

“But –”

“Enough.” Daphne demanded. “You need to focus now. Both of you. It’s only a matter of time before he completes his task. When it’s complete, he won’t waste any time in implementing it. Then Abbot’s parents will be the least of your concerns.”

Harry took a deep breath, calming down, and looked between the two vastly different people that were his allies. Were they even ready to face whatever Malfoy’s task was when sometimes they could barely maintain civility each other?

Regardless... “Then we need to finish this, and soon. Whatever it takes.”

“You may have a little time. He’s leaving for the holidays. However, that will be a short delay at best. He will come back prepared.”

“Then we will too,” said Harry, his mind beginning to think properly again. “We’ll be ready and will stop him.”

“Whatever you intend to do, Potter, decide quickly.”

With that comment she departed, leaving Neville and Harry alone again.

“What do you want to do, Harry?”

Harry stared off after Daphne for a long moment. There was so much he needed to think about, but right now it was impossible; too much vying for attention at once.

One thing, however, stayed at the forefront of his mind, no matter how hard he tried to push it aside: Hannah had been right.

It was because of him, because of his association with her, that her parents were dead.

The guilt he had previously felt immediately returned twofold, then threefold. The same mistakes, real and imagined, dogged his thoughts again.

Neville was still there, patiently standing by his side. He seemed to sense Harry’s mood. “You okay, Harry?”

His mouth moved on its own. “Malfoy ordered Hannah’s parents’ death because of me.”

Harry didn’t move his head to see Neville’s reaction, but he felt the change in his stance, close as he was. For a brief moment, Harry missed Ron. To have his spurts of outrage, his rants and threats directed at Malfoy... it would’ve been comforting in an odd way.

The moment passed, and his guilt was displaced by another surge of anger. The guilt was still there, buried beneath a fresh batch of complete and utter contempt for the arrogant prick, but far less noticeable beneath his anger.

“He will pay,” seethed Harry. His frustrations of the previous months came together at once, and bolstered his convictions. It was time.

He turned to Neville. The poor bloke was still fumbling for something to say. He was rattled in his own way, though it was only later Harry realised that.

“I need to clear my head, time to think.” Harry turned and started heading up the grand staircase. “I’ve got to get to practice. Tell Hermione what happened if you see her before I get back. Tell her...” he paused for a few seconds, and then said, “Tell her it’s time.”

-x-x-x-x-x-

“You alright, cap’n?”

The shout came as such a surprise it was a near thing Harry didn’t fall of his broom.

“Fine, Demelza.” Harry called back after he regained his composure. “Keep practicing.”

Demelza obeyed after giving him a strange look. Harry ignored it.

He’d been swept up in his own world, wrapped up in his guilt and anger, considering his options, what next to do. He’d calmed down for good now, though it had taken some time. Flying had always held a fascination, and an escape, and after a furious and fast-paced first half an hour of practice, he’d settled himself down. Thankfully, the rest of practice was second nature and his teammates mostly had forgotten his mood.

During the summer, it had been an idea of Harry’s to organise a new DA to take the fight to Voldemort. The Horcruxes had changed what needed to be done, but didn’t change the necessity of the group or its general aim. All their learning was leading to the moment they stepped out into the world.

It seemed to Harry that if Malfoy’s machinations did not exist then there would be little else holding him back at Hogwarts except for one glaring issue: Harry had no idea where to search for the Horcruxes. Dumbledore had not yet been forthcoming with anything beyond the scope of the memories of Tom Riddle.

Still, that left Malfoy. Before today, the option of forcing him – of using violence, or even something else – was reluctantly exactly that: an option.

Now it was becoming increasingly like their only choice. Malfoy was not going to conveniently slip up. They had to make a move on him and force it out by whatever means necessary.

However, after their earlier confrontation, Harry admitted to himself he wasn’t as reluctant toward the idea of inflicting pain on Malfoy. Of course, he probably wasn’t in the best frame of mind to be making such decisions. That, however, mattered little to him then.

Practice continued for another hour. The anger fled as the familiar patterns of flying, dodging, weaving, giving out orders and the fresh air soothed him. But his thoughts rarely strayed from Malfoy.

Removing violence from the equation left only one means of extracting the information. It was more likely to provide results, but it was also illegal without sanctioned use by the right people, and that wasn’t something he would receive any time in the near future. But it would guarantee an honest answer, and it was accessible from Hogwarts.

The something else was Veritaserum.

-x-x-x-x-x-

The same couch where the DA had truly begun, and not had been simply a figment, a thought, and possibility in Harry’s mind, was where Harry and Hermione now sat, contemplating the next step.

The common room was almost empty now, it being late for a weeknight. However, their privacy was assured through magical means. It was, of course, Hermione who first noticed his melancholy mood the moment he arrived after practice. It persisted still.

Harry sat leaning against an armrest, leaning his head against the back of the couch, one leg crossed, one on the floor. Hermione watched him from the opposite end of the three-seater in the same position except her feet were tucked beneath her.

“We can’t wait much longer for him to make a mistake, Hermione,” said Harry, echoing his earlier thoughts.

“I know,” whispered Hermione. “I... can’t believe it came to this, that Malfoy really ordered their deaths.”

“Hermione...” began Harry, sighing. “The anger I felt... It was almost Bellatrix all over again.” He looked up and met her eyes. They were sad. He steeled himself, tapping into his determination. “I won’t forgive him. Whatever happens, he has chosen Voldemort. I won’t hold back.”

Hermione looked away for a moment, the intensity of his gaze, the words too much. Then she turned, looking him dead in the eye, and whispered, “I won’t stop you.”

 

Harry swallowed as Hermione’s words sunk in.

She had effectively given him permission to hurt Malfoy, something that went well against all her values. That admission hadn’t have been easy for her.

“Harry...” Hermione appeared uncertain, and perhaps a little afraid. “Please...”

“Please?”

“I know what I said – that I won’t stop you. But please. Be careful...” Her voice became smaller as she spoke, until, “I don’t want to lose you.”

“Hermione...”

“Harry, you’re my best friend. I want you the way you are: brave and strong, but also a little clueless and sweet, even unintentionally. I don’t want to lose that person.”

She was nearing that rambling stage now. But Harry, dumbfounded at first, began to understand what her concern was targeted at. If he followed through with his unspoken promise to hurt Malfoy, he mightn’t be him anymore. Controlled, premeditated, intentional, violence was never something Harry had truly entertained before until Bellatrix Lestrange had murdered his godfather in front of his eyes. Other concerns had quickly quashed those thoughts.

But Malfoy had stirred that darkness again.

Harry shuffled forward and grasped Hermione, who looked up at him as he did. Her eyes were watering a little, and he felt horrible for causing her such pain.

“I won’t, Hermione. I won’t disappear. I promise.” He titled his head, giving her a smile. “Do you know why?”

Hermione shook her head.

“Because you will be there to keep me grounded,” said Harry with perfect honesty. “You’ve kept me grounded these past years. I’d bet my vault that you will through this too.”

Her bone-crushing hug caught him by surprise, but he returned it as best he could given the strength she was exhibiting. Soon his need for more oxygen forced him to end it however. Reluctantly, Hermione moved back on the couch, wiping at her face.

The silence that ensued was comfortable, as the pair succumbed to their own thoughts again.

“Neville said you said ‘it’s time,’” said Hermione a few minutes later. “What’s on your mind? Time for what?”

Harry gathered she knew exactly what he’d meant, but wanted to hear it for herself. Hard as it was to consider the thought of putting her in danger, she had time and again proved her loyalty, proved that she’d stand by him for all time. Harry wondered just how lucky he was to have such a great friend.

“Ever since Hannah’s parents died,” began Harry, “I’ve asked myself what exactly I am doing here that’s helping to end it.” He raised a finger in a gesture of silence at Hermione’s expression. “I know that learning as much as I can is important, and that the DA could be of invaluable help, but… even so, I wonder. I’m still here in Hogwarts. Meanwhile, Voldemort is out there working on whatever it is he has planned and we haven’t even started searching for Horcruxes.”

“Harry, I’ve been your friend for almost six years. I understand your frustration…”

If anyone had an idea, it would be her. But…

“Even without this prophecy hanging over our heads, Hermione… I’d want to fight him, to stop Voldemort.” Harry looked out the window beside his bed. The sky was filled with clouds, rain threatening to fall at a moment’s notice. “He has caused so much pain, to me and to the people I care about. I can’t walk away from it.”

Hermione bit her lip.

“I know he’s not entirely my responsibility, but the prophecy, however you look at it, demands we meet again, and I won’t sit in this castle and hide while people out there die. I will meet him head on if I have to.”

“That’s what I thought. You’re saying you think it’s time to leave Hogwarts?”

The very thought of leaving the school and pursuing Horcruxes and Voldemort himself was terrifying. However, it wasn’t as if were a new thought, ever since the idea had been pitched months before.

“Yes,” said Harry softly.

Hermione breathed deeply. “Wow, Harry.”

“I know.”

“This… is a huge step.” Hermione had an uncertain expression on her face. “Are… Do you think we’re ready?”

“I… think so,” said Harry, though he sounded not entirely certain even to himself. “You said yourself that I’m capable now. I’ve taught you and everyone else in our DA everything I’ve learnt. We’re capable now.” His voice grew stronger, more certain as he continued. “We could do this.”

“What about Hogwarts? What about Malfoy?”

Harry shook his head. “Pretend Malfoy doesn’t exist and answer me this, Hermione. What more can I do at Hogwarts that I can’t do from outside? What am I still doing here that is so important?”

It was telling that Hermione took some time to come up with a counterargument. “You’re teaching the other students to defend themselves.”

He nodded. “That’s the one thing I can think of that I wouldn’t want to leave behind. But even so, we can’t remain at Hogwarts just for that. There are older students, seventh years who know plenty about duelling that could take over if I was – we were to leave.”

“Harry…” began Hermione, but she trailed off. Then, “I’m not trying to be a dissenting voice here. I’ve supported you… I will always support you, Harry. However, the idea of us leaving terrifies me. It has since you first mentioned it.”

Harry shuffled closer and laid a hand on her shoulder. “It probably should.”

Hermione smiled at him, laying her hand on his. After a moment, she let out a small laugh. “I’m seriously contemplating leaving Hogwarts, my education. The things you make me do for you, Harry.”

“You don’t have to…” It was an automatic response, something deep within his psyche that wanted to protect his friends. However, it made it no less true. Nevertheless, a month prior Hermione had made her intentions rather clear.

“I want to.” A small quaver in her voice betrayed what must’ve been her fear. She scrunched her eyes closed and then opened them, and her mouth, attempting this time to say it without fear.

“I want to.”

And she succeeded.

A moment passed in silence. Then Hermione laughed again, quieter this time.

“I must admit I haven’t really contemplated where I go after Hogwarts.”

At Harry’s puzzled expression, Hermione elaborated. “Living arrangements.”

“Ah. I’ve already thought of that,” replied Harry. “I intend to owl Lupin and ask to stay with him for the break. I’ll find us somewhere while I’m with him.”

Harry noted the pensive expression that flashed on Hermione’s face. “What is it?”

“Have you thought about telling him anything? Everything?”

Harry looked around the room, noting that he and Hermione were now alone. It must be getting late.

“I don’t know much about him, Hermione,” he said solemnly. “I care about him, but that might be because he’s the last connection I have to my parents. Maybe I could trust him. That could be something else to do during the break. It would be nice to have the help of someone in the Order.”

Mentioning the Order brought to mind Fleur. She would have been his help in there had things not turned out the way they had.

Hermione brought him out of his reverie almost immediately.

“You’ve thought a lot about this.”

It might’ve been Harry hearing things, but he could’ve sworn he heard something in her voice. Something sad.

“I did little else over the summer. It helped me grieve,” he admitted. Then, being unusually observant, said, “That’s as far as I ever got. I’ll need your help for pretty much everything else.”

That must’ve been among the right things to say as he was graced with a true smile.

He grinned back, in spite of everything that had happened that day. “It’s a crying shame, too. I was enjoying appearing like I was all independent and brainy now.”

Hermione laughed, and Harry joined her. But they sobered all too quickly for either of their liking.

“What about the Horcruxes? Do you have any idea where to start looking?”

Harry ran a hand through is hair, sighing. “That’s the one obstacle I can’t seem to overcome when I consider leaving. I have no idea where to begin a search. Dumbledore has certainly checked all the locations he showed me in the pensieve memories more thoroughly than I can.”

“Then ask him.” Hermione said as if it were the simplest thing. “Ask him to tell you all he knows. Two people searching for Horcruxes is better than one.”

A disbelieving expression crossed Harry’s face. “It wouldn’t be that simple.”

“You think he’ll not answer if you ask?” asked Hermione. At Harry’s nod, she continued, “Then why did he allow you to have the extra lessons, Harry? If he didn’t want your help, or you to improve, then why would he take valuable time from Professors McGonagall, Flitwick and Slughorn to teach you as much as they could?”

That was something more difficult to answer. Dumbledore’s motives tended to be rather complex, or at least his plans were.

Maybe. Somehow it did seem something the Headmaster would do: wait until Harry directly asked for the information, until such a point where Harry was ready for the information. After all, it had been the same for the prophecy.

“Try it, Harry,” encouraged Hermione. “If he refuses… we’ll figure something out. We always do.”

Harry didn’t reply, instead pondering the Headmaster and what he was planning. The man wouldn’t jeopardise stopping Voldemort for anything less than an extremely good reason, surely. Whatever their differences, Harry did not doubt Dumbledore’s commitment to stopping Voldemort.

Soon, he decided, he would confront Dumbledore and demand answers, once and for all. Once he was ready.

“I suppose that leaves one more question.” Hermione squeezed his hand, still on her shoulder. Harry looked back, deep green eyes filled with intelligence and courage. “When?”

“I need time to find us somewhere to stay,” said Harry, thinking carefully, “and then we need to stop Malfoy, however we have to.”

“Force him?” The words weren’t spat out exactly, but there was a bad taste in Hermione’s mouth after she’d said it. Even if she wouldn’t stop Harry, she still loathed the idea of physical coercion.

“If I have to,” replied Harry. He shifted his position and grabbed Hermione’s shoulders. “If he gives me no choice, I will. But...” he dropped his gaze for a moment. “There’s Veritaserum.”

“But –”

“It’s illegal unless sanctioned by the Ministry, I know,” interrupted Harry. “But Malfoy wouldn’t like the attention brought on him if he went to the Ministry to take legal action. Eventually someone would ask the questions: why would I use Veritaserum on him? What information did I want? What were the answers?”

“That’s an enormous risk to take, Harry.”

“I know. But I’m not willing to let this play out on his terms.” Harry released her shoulders and laid back a bit. “Daphne says Malfoy is leaving during the break, so I believe I have some time. I need that time over Easter. So...”

“After Easter,” finished Hermione. “We leave Hogwarts.”

Harry swallowed. “Yeah.”

“Easter is a fortnight away...”

“Yeah.”

Hermione grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly. Harry returned the gesture.

This was big, the biggest thing he’d ever done. To leave Hogwarts, to enter the world outside, away from the protections that Hogwarts provided. It had been naught but a concept, a thought, for the better part of a year. Now, however, it was becoming a reality. Voldemort was out there and he needed to be stopped. That wasn’t going to happen as long as Harry remained within the castle walls.

“We’re decided then?” asked Harry.

Hermione matched his gaze. He could see the fear, but also the strength and determination in there; the same strength and determination that had held their friendship together for over five years.

“We are.”

She’d be with him until the end. He knew it in his soul. They started this together, and they would end it together.

“Good. After the Easter break, we take Malfoy down. Then we leave Hogwarts and find the Horcruxes.”

-x-x-x-x-x-

A/N: Only ‘actual’ Parselmouths can access the Chamber for the purposes of this fic. You can’t fake the language – ala Ron in DH.

I didn’t bother to have Padma explain how hypocritical it would be for her to turn tail and run with her parents when she knowingly, with full understanding what Harry intended, joined the DA. I hope that was self-evident from her character. If not, now you know.

I will be showing just how far Harry has come over the coming chapters.

Hermione saying she won’t stop Harry from hurting Malfoy? I think that’s a big moment for her.

Yes, Malfoy was rather heavy-handed in his hints. But he was never the master of subtlety. Regardless, he wanted Harry to react, to give him an excuse to hurt him more. Neville saved him from some serious backlash. Malfoy’s time is very soon.

I’ll be the first to admit I feel this isn’t the most exciting chapter. I struggled with the interest level, the show vs. tell ratio for a two month period... Trust me, I’ve been dealing with this chapter for three years; I know. There are perhaps only a few chapters I would’ve liked less to have come back with, most of which are behind us.

What’s here – the character stuff – was always planned for this period. It was too much trouble to move the timeline forward for the coming events. Next chapter, on the other hand, starts a new phase. It’ll cover a smaller time period, so less there should be less “tell” like there was in this chapter. Oh, and more plot. Yay?