The Refiner's Fire

Abraxan

Story Summary:
Complete. Prequel to "The Time of Destiny." In the summer before his sixth year at Hogwarts, Harry Potter learns to come to terms with the death of Sirius. As he heals and grows emotionally, he learns how to enjoy life again. But there's a war on, and Voldemort's primary objective is to kill Harry Potter, by any means necessary. As a result, Harry and his friends have a very adventurous sixth year at Hogwarts. Canon-based through OotP with some OC.

Chapter 32

Chapter Summary:
: The attack on Harry has spawned another media circus, but Harry thinks of a way to fight back. The last Quidditch game of the season leads to interesting results (hint: mayhem follows. . .). Poor Harry is, as usual, up to his pretty green eyes in danger.
Posted:
05/11/2005
Hits:
4,892
Author's Note:
Many thanks to Kelpie, my brilliant Brit-picker, and to Blakevich, Starfox, Shawn and Pilar for beta reading! Note: “Battle of Cascade Prele du Chevaux” is a place and a name I made up – it doesn’t exist that I know of, and I’ve never been to France. I used an English-French dictionary online and my extremely rusty high school French to name it. The name means “Horses’ Tails Waterfall.” And FYI – Ron’s birthday is in March, and this is April, so he’s 17 now – check the Lexicon and JKR’s site – Ginny’s b-day is Aug 11, Hermione’s is September 18, Harry’s, of course, is July 31, and the twins is April Fool’s Day, heehee – honest!


Chapter 32 - "The Boy-Who-Lived No More"

The Daily Prophet headline the next morning filled the top third of the page with thick purple letters: "Special Edition! The Boy-Who-Lived No More?" Most of the rest of the page was taken up with a vivid colour photo of Harry lying on the floor in the corridor, writhing in agony, his face cut and bleeding profusely, a crowd of screaming, horrified girls surrounding him. The article began on the bottom of the page and continued on three full pages inside, going into gruesome and flamboyant details about the violent attack on Harry. Other pictures inside the issue showed Ginny sucking the poison out of Harry's wound, Ginny collapsing on the floor next to Harry, and Harry waking up just long enough to embrace her.

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. On 14th April, sixteen-year-old Harry Potter was viciously attacked by Pansy Parkinson, 16, a Sixth Year member of Slytherin House. Potter is well-known throughout the wizarding world as 'The Boy-Who-Lived' for his defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named when Potter was only a year old. Harry Potter is also the Hero of Hogsmeade, Hero of the Battle of Cascade Prele du Chevaux, France, survivor of several other encounters with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, defeater of Dementors and Death Eaters in numerous battles, and the youngest person ever nominated for the Order of Merlin, Second Class, by no less than Albus Dumbledore himself.

Charismatic and attractive despite the lightning-bolt shaped scar on his forehead, Potter, a Sixth Year Gryffindor, is not only widely known as a hero, but also as the youngest Seeker in a century at Hogwarts, and will probably be scouted for professional Quidditch teams if he survives his years at Hogwarts. He is now the Gryffindor Quidditch team Captain and Seeker, and is featured on Gryffindor Quidditch posters as well as being the youngest wizard ever to be honoured by being featured on Famous Wizard Cards. He is the founder and leader of 'Dumbledore's Army,' a Defence Against the Dark Arts club now in its second year at Hogwarts, where the students practice their Defence spells and learn other hexes and jinxes in preparation for the war with the Dark Forces. Potter has been able to cast a corporeal Patronus since the age of 13, and won the Tri-Wizard Tournament at the age of 14. Quite a remarkable wizard indeed, and he's grown into a truly handsome young man, his wildly tousled shock of jet-black hair framing a pale face with rosy cheeks and lips, flashing emerald green eyes and hint of a dimple in his chin, tall, broad-shouldered, muscular - everything you could hope for in a hero. With all this, he's humble, kind-hearted, polite and charming as well.

The heroine of this tragedy is the beautiful, vivacious and petite Ginny Weasley, 15, a Fifth Year Gryffindor, Chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, leader of the Healer Squad of Dumbledore's Army, and the youngest-ever nominee for the Order of Merlin, Third Class, as a result of the Battle of Cascade Prele du Chevaux, which took place over the Easter holiday on a mountaintop in eastern France. Miss Weasley is the youngest child and only daughter of Arthur and Molly Weasley. Arthur Weasley is head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office in the Ministry of Magic. He and his wife, Molly, a homemaker, have seven children, two of whom, including Ginny, are still at Hogwarts. Their son Ronald, a tall, rugged seventeen-year-old Sixth Year Gryffindor, is Harry Potter's best friend and Keeper on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, the strategist and one of the leaders of Dumbledore's Army, as well as a nominee for the Order of Merlin, Third Class for the Battle of Cascade Prele du Chevaux. Ginny Weasley is athletic but dainty, with a luxurious mane of red hair that falls past her waist, her nose decorated with a charming assortment of freckles. Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter have been a hot item all this school term, but recently had a disagreement that ended their relationship.

"On the day in question, Pansy Parkinson, a sarcastic, pug-faced girl with a sour attitude and no accolades to her name, tried to take advantage of Potter's break-up with Ginny Weasley, making lewd advances to Potter in the corridor. When he politely rejected them, she hit him in the face, deliberately cutting long, deep slices in his ruggedly handsome features with the sharp prongs of her ring. This act wasn't heinous enough - no, the ring itself contained a fast-acting poison. Fellow students watched in horror as Potter writhed in agony on the floor while the poison did its nasty work, his beautiful green eyes flashing as he moaned in agony. Ginny Weasley, who still loves Potter despite the recent problems in their relationship, broke through mob of the weeping girls and began to administer some type of first aid that involved cutting Potter's stunning face further and sucking his blood, and, this writer supposes, the poison out as well, then spitting it on the floor. Weasley passed out on the floor after finishing her ministrations, probably sickened by the vile poison she was sucking out along with Potter's blood. Potter woke up long enough to see it was his own true love that was caring for him, and embraced her before he, too, passed out, both of them barely breathing. School staff soon arrived on the scene and Potter and Weasley were removed to Headmaster Albus Dumbledore's office rather than the hospital wing. As they were levitated off the floor, Potter awoke long enough to embrace Weasley, holding her close until they were out of sight in the staircase to the Headmaster's office.

"There have been numerous attempts on Harry Potter's life this school term, an apparent plot of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, who, from rumours heard by this writer, has made it his primary objective to kill Potter."

The article went on to review all the attempts on Harry's life in the last year, elaborating madly where the writer didn't know all the facts. The story ended several pages later with these lines:

"The question in everyone's mind now is, why Dumbledore's office? Surely, if these two students are recovering, they would be in the school's hospital wing. Is The Boy-Who-Lived dead at last, his body being kept in Dumbledore's office to hide the fact that Harry Potter is deceased? Repeated efforts have been made to find out Potter's condition, to no avail. If The Boy-Who-Lived is dead, why have we not been told? What of Ginny Weasley? Is she deceased as well? Did they die in each other's arms, lovers to the end? If Harry Potter truly is dead, who will save us from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? It's inconceivable that Potter could survive a Killing Curse at the hands of You-Know-Who himself, only to be murdered by a poisoned ring on a vengeful schoolgirl's hand, but Potter has spent his entire life doing the inconceivable. Has he cheated death again, or finally succumbed?"

"Oooooo, this is horrible!" Hermione growled over breakfast as she scanned through the article.

"Who wrote it? Who took the pictures?" Ron asked anxiously. "Is Rita Skeeter sneaking around the school again?"

Luna Lovegood sidled over to the Gryffindor table, sitting down across from Ron, gazing happily at the paper in Hermione's hands. "Hello, Ronald," she said vaguely. "Good article on Harry, huh?"

Hermione exploded. "NO! It's dreadful! I'm going to get that Rita Skeeter if it's the last thing I do." Her rage did nothing to dim Luna's dreamy smile.

"Is she the one who wrote it?" Ron said. "She's changed her style a bit, hasn't she? Not much," he amended in the face of Hermione's rage, "just a little. The writing's a bit different, that's all. And how did she get those pictures?"

"Oh, she got them from me," Luna offered blithely. "And I gave her the story."

"WHAT?!" Hermione and Ron said together.

"Luna, I thought you liked Harry," Ron said, totally gob-smacked.


"I do," she said serenely.


"Then why would you do such a thing?"

"I got a camera during the summer and have been following him around ever since the first time he was attacked this year, hoping to get pictures like these," she went on as if there had been no interruption. "The article about him that was in The Quibbler and then the Daily Prophet seemed to be a help to him, so I thought more articles and photos would be even more help. But I can't get in to see him and find out how he is, so Rita had to take what I gave her. Still, it's a good article, don't you think? Daddy's publishing the one I wrote like it in The Quibbler today. I'm a published writer! Isn't that wonderful?" She smiled at them, completely oblivious to their fury.

"It's a HORRIBLE article, and these pictures are AWFUL!" Hermione snarled, reaching across the table as if she'd throttle Luna if only she could reach her. She pulled out her wand and was about to hex the girl when Ron stopped her. "Get off, Ron! She deserves this!" Hermione said, struggling to pull her arms out of the grip of Ron's big hands.

"'Mione, the damage is already done. The article is in print and published. Hexing Luna won't change that," he said reasonably.


"I'm so sorry for your loss, Ronald," Luna said sweetly as Hermione settled back in her seat, still huffing with rage.

"Huh?" Ron replied.

"Your sister. And Harry as well. I wish they hadn't died. Surely if they were alive, they'd be in the hospital wing? So they must be dead," she said with her maddening calmness.

"For your information, Luna, Harry and Ginny were taken to Dumbledore's office because it was the closest place to take them. They're recovering just fine. We visited them last night after dinner." He blanched suddenly. "Oh, no! Mum!"

"What?" Hermione cried, shocked.

"She's going to read this. She knows about what happened, but what if she BELIEVES this tripe?" Ron stood up suddenly and ran to the Head Table. "Remus! Remus!" he cried as he ran.


"Mr. Weasley!" Professor Snape sneered, "despite your personal relationship with Professor Lupin, you are required to show the proper respect to a Hogwarts teacher."

"Yes, Professor, sorry, Professor," Ron blurted as he stopped in front of Remus. "May I use your fire to contact my parents? Mum will have read that article in the Prophet by now. If she believes it. . . ." Ron's heart was in his eyes.

"Ron, as soon as the first paper arrived and we saw the headline, Professor Dumbledore contacted your parents to assure them everything is all right," Remus said calmly. "That's where he is now, I imagine, still talking to them in his fire. They'll be able to see Ginny and Harry there, too. You're welcome to use my fire if you'd like, of course."

Ron breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks. I was worried. . . ."

"I know," Remus said consolingly.

"Luna Lovegood's to blame for this, Remus. She took the pictures, and she fed the story to Rita Skeeter, and had a similar article of her own published in The Quibbler," Ron said, his face deadly serious. "She's supposed to be Harry's friend. I can't believe she'd betray him this way."

Remus frowned in concern. "Did she say why she did it?"

"She thought it would help, like the articles last year did."

"Maybe it will," Remus mused.

"Do you think so?" Ron said, amazed. "All I can see is Harry in a towering rage blowing up the castle, or finding Luna and strangling her. I had to stop Hermione from hexing Luna a few minutes ago." He turned and looked over his shoulder to make sure his girlfriend was still behaving reasonably.

Hagrid, who was sitting next to Remus and heard this whole conversation, said, "Daft, she is. Completely daft."

"Exceedingly daft," Ron snarled. "What are we going to do? Harry will explode when he gets his strength back and hears about this. You know he will," he said to Remus.


"We'll just have to deal with things as they come," Remus said with a shrug. "Why don't you and Hermione go and visit him and Ginny this morning? They may be asleep, but in case they're awake, I know they'll enjoy a visit from you. You already know how to do the curses we'll be doing in Defence today, so I'll give you an exemption."

"OK. Thanks, Remus," Ron said, still looking upset.


"Coddling your favourites again, Lupin?" Snape sneered.


"I think it will be good for all of them," Remus said calmly. He glanced up from the pass he was writing for Ron and Hermione and saw Dumbledore entering the Great Hall. "Ah. Hopefully, Albus will be able to set things right." He handed the note to Ron and indicated the boy should go back to his seat. Dumbledore was standing up in front of his large gold chair, his very presence casting an expectant hush over the gathered students.

"Good morning," Dumbledore said pleasantly. "I know you are all concerned about the article that appeared in today's Daily Prophet,"

"It's in The Quibbler, too!" Luna called out proudly.


"Ah yes, so I've heard," Dumbledore replied serenely over the titters of laughter Luna's comment had caused across the hall. "It seems Miss Lovegood has a journalistic spirit like her father. Her intentions were, I'm certain, the best, as I know Miss Lovegood is a friend of both Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley." He smiled benignly at Luna, then sighed, lacing his fingers together in front of him, his face growing more serious. "I'm sure you've all heard a great many rumours about what happened, and this article will make you even more curious, so I'm going to tell you the facts as they stand this morning. The photos in the article, are, alas, real. Harry was attacked by Miss Parkinson. His life was saved by Miss Weasley's quick action. Miss Weasley was taken ill from her efforts, which caused her to ingest some poison herself. So the basic facts of the article are true, with one serious exception. Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley are both alive and recovering nicely. They will be back in the student population in a day or so, with no lasting effects from their experience. And as for the cuts on Harry's face - they will not result in a scar of any kind. He will look just as he did before. And although the article does not mention it, Miss Parkinson took her own life after she attacked Harry. She thought she'd killed him. She was under an enchantment that forced her to do something she didn't want to do. She couldn't bear the thought that she'd killed Harry, who was kind to her, as she mentioned in a note she left." He paused, sighing heavily. "Let us have a moment of silence in memory of Miss Parkinson."

The Great Hall was so still, even the candles didn't flicker. After a few minutes, Dumbledore went on. "We took Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley to my office because it was the nearest place to work on them. I conjured facilities to make them comfortable and we have continued treatment there, rather than moving them, since they were both in considerable pain for a while. All that said, once Harry and Ginny are back among you - and by the way, they've made up quite nicely - please don't pester them about this incident. As you can see from the pictures, it was an awful thing. Be kind to them, welcome them back, and allow them to put it behind them." He paused, looking around the hall more sternly. "I cannot believe such a large group stood by and watched that boy bleeding, suffering, dying on the floor and not one of them called for assistance. Those of you who were in that group are pictured in the newspaper photos. I will be speaking with each of you in turn. You will each lose house points and have detentions. There will be no more idle standing by in the face of an emergency. Is that understood?" He glared around the silent room, catching the wide, frightened eyes of each and every fan girl who'd been there. Dumbledore took a deep breath and calmed himself a bit before going on. "Now that the explanations of these articles and the incident itself have been made, I am adding to the school rules. There will be no more articles about Harry Potter or anyone else or photos published in any form of any Hogwarts student without their permission, no matter how good your intentions. Please see me after breakfast, Miss Lovegood. I'd like to speak with you."

"She's in for it now," Ron whispered into Hermione's ear. She nodded. Luna's blissful expression hadn't changed. Apparently, she thought she was going to be rewarded somehow, because her face glowed with pride.

Colin Creevey, however, had cringed at Dumbledore's words. He'd learned his lesson the previous summer when Harry had confronted him about the Quidditch posters and the Famous Wizard Cards. If Harry hadn't set him straight, he'd be in trouble along with Luna. He gulped and reminded himself to be extra nice to Harry the rest of the year to thank Harry for keeping him out of trouble.

* * * * *


During their Defence class time that morning, Ron and Hermione went to Dumbledore's office to visit Harry and Ginny. When they arrived, Madam Pomfrey was bustling around, cleaning up after taking care of her patients. Harry and Ginny were both sleeping soundly, Harry snoring softly, a little whistle coming from Ginny's nose. Her head was nestled on his shoulder and he had both arms wrapped around her. They looked very peaceful. The wound on Harry's face wasn't as livid as it had been the previous day, but it was still ugly.

"What are you two doing here?" the nurse asked.


"Professor Lupin said we could come and visit them," Hermione said quietly, "but we don't want to disturb them. Can we just sit with them for a while?"

"Of course," Madam Pomfrey said with a smile, pulling two chairs up next to the bed. Ron sat down as soon as the chairs were placed, with Hermione standing behind him gently running her fingers through his long wavy mop of hair. "They will probably sleep through the day and tonight as well," the nurse added. "They're making good progress. They were awake a little while ago and they said they weren't in as much pain as before."

"Oh, that's good," Hermione said, her face relieved as she sat down on the arm of Ron's chair.

Madam Pomfrey picked up her bag and said, "I have to go to the hospital wing for a while. Stay as long as you like."

"Thanks," Hermione said. She looked at Ron, who was leaning close to the bed, gently touching Ginny's red mane with one finger. He looked lost. "She's going to be fine, Ron," Hermione murmured.

"Yeah," he said, his eyes still filled with pain. He looked over at Harry, his gaze fixed on the awful wound in his cheek. "Poor Harry. Everything happens to him."

"Yes," Hermione agreed. She put her arm around Ron's back, leaning her head on the back of his shoulder, trying to comfort him, while still trying to deal with her own emotional burdens. "This was a close one. If she hadn't been there, if she hadn't read been studying first aid and healing techniques. . . ." Tears began to run down Hermione's cheeks.

Ron realized she was crying and sat back, pulling her into his lap. "It's OK, 'Mione. They're going to be fine."

"Seems to me," she said between sniffles, "that I just told you the same thing." They chuckled sadly together, and just held on to each other as they watched Harry and Ginny sleep.

* * * * *

The next morning in Dumbledore's office, Harry and Ginny were giggling. The potion Madam Pomfrey had given them for pain from this particular type of poison made them giddy when it didn't make them sleepy. They'd slept through an entire day and night, and now the potion had nearly worn off and they were awake and feeling well enough to be playful. Harry was gently but determinedly tickling Ginny.

"Harry, stop!" she cried, tears of laughter running down her face. "Stop, please!"

"Only if you give me a kiss," he said stubbornly.

"I've already given you loads of kisses! Use one of them!" she laughed, wriggling beneath his tickling hands.

"Nope, I need a new one!" he insisted, leaning down to blow a raspberry on her neck.

"OK, OK, take it!" she said, pushing his hands away from her stomach so he would stop tickling her. He looked around. No adults in the room at the moment, although he knew Dumbledore's instruments were observing them, as well as the old Headmasters and Headmistresses. He leaned on one elbow and bent over Ginny, suddenly serious, and kissed her gently, then more deliberately, his fingers laced in her hair, cupping the back of her head.


"You must feel better," he said quietly. "You certainly taste good." He rested his forehead against hers and smiled at her. "I love you."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers twining in his hair. "I love you, too."

"I think they're going to boot me out of here today," Harry said, lying down beside her, his head propped up on his hand.


"If I have to stay in here another day or two, as Madam Pomfrey said, I'll get so far behind in my classes," she moaned. "I'm going to have a horrible time with my O.W.L.'s. I've lost so much study time!"

"I'll help you," he promised.


Just then the door opened and Madam Pomfrey came in, followed by Ron and Hermione. "How are you feeling?" Madam Pomfrey said brightly.

"When I'm not sleepy, I'm silly," Harry said with a goofy grin.

"Me too!" Ginny agreed.

"That's the potion I've been giving you. You don't need that one anymore, and it will wear off in a few minutes. You'll be back to normal soon."

"Oh, that's too bad," Harry giggled. "I've been enjoying feeling silly."

"Me, too," Ginny said, snorting with laughter as Harry made a goofy face at her.


Ron laughed. "Why haven't any of us had that potion before? It looks like fun!"

"It's for specific poisons, Mr. Weasley. We haven't needed it before," Madam Pomfrey replied a bit sternly. It wouldn't do for the students to become too interested in potions they didn't need.

"Hey! We just saw you the last time we were awake!" Harry chortled, still feeling silly.

"Nice to see you too," Hermione said with a smile, pulling a chair up next to the bed.

"Harry, we need to tell you something," Ron said a bit uneasily as he pulled a chair up next to Hermione's.

"What?"

"Erm. . .somebody wrote an article on your attack and published it," Ron said hesitantly.

"What?" Harry looked a bit confused.


"They're asking if you're dead or not - in the article - because you're up here instead of in the hospital wing," Hermione explained carefully.

"Just tell them we're fine," Harry said airily, but his friends could see his expression was changing. The potion was wearing off, as was his giddiness.

"Dumbledore did that at breakfast yesterday," Hermione replied. "The article was in yesterday's paper, but you two slept all day, so we couldn't tell you about it."

"OK," Harry replied, seemingly satisfied. He was quiet for a few minutes, all the giddiness leaving his face, leaving him with a much more serious expression. His eyes grew thoughtful, then stern. "Where did the paper get the information?"

"Um. . .somebody thought it would be helpful to you for such an article to appear, the way the articles last year helped," Hermione said hesitantly. Now she almost wished she hadn't contacted Rita Skeeter to do those articles last year. But they honestly were helpful to Harry. She sighed. There was no easy way around the situation.

"Rita Skeeter's writing about me again? Who told her what happened? Or is she bugging the school again?" Harry asked, sitting up, his senses all alert now, the potion completely out of his system. He ignored the twinges of pain in his face and body and waved Madam Pomfrey off as she approached him with more potion. "Later, OK?" She nodded. "Thanks."

"Rita wrote the one in the Prophet. There was also one in The Quibbler," Ron said quietly.

"You have the paper with you, don't you?" Harry said to Hermione.


"You don't want to see it, Harry, honestly," she said nervously.


He held out his hand and waited. When she didn't give him the paper right away, he wiggled his fingers and said, "C'mon, Hermione. Better now than later, after I've had more time to get angry, right?"

She sighed and dug the paper out of her bag, handing it reluctantly to Harry. He glanced down at Ginny, who was still lying down, then set the paper aside and helped her sit up, pulled the pillows up so he and Ginny would be comfortable sitting up, then helped her lean back against the pillows. He was very solicitous of Ginny, making sure she was well tucked-in and the pillows properly fluffed behind her.

Ginny smiled at him warmly, nervous herself about seeing the pictures and about how he would react to them and the article.

Finally satisfied Ginny was comfortable, and having given himself enough time to brace himself for what they were about to see, he unfolded the paper and was greeted by the horrible sight of him writhing on the floor, blood streaming from his wounds, and the huge purple headline. He took a deep calming breath and held the paper so Ginny could read the article as well. They scanned the article quickly, then settled down to read it thoroughly. Everyone was shocked when Harry chuckled.


"What's so funny?" Ron said, completely bewildered.

"All of this. They're going on about how wonderful I am, calling me all these things, and I'm just Harry. When are they going to understand that? It's just silly. 'Hero of Hogsmeade,' all that. What tripe."

"Um, Harry?" Hermione said slowly. "Do you remember what happened in Hogsmeade?"

"You were attacked by Dementors and fought them yourself for a while. Then Ron sent a Patronus that distracted a Dementor from kissing you, and my Patronus chased him and the others away. All three of us did stuff. It wasn't just me. These people are so stupid," he said, a bitter edge to his voice, but no real rage showing yet. "Did you think I forgot?"

"I just . . ." Hermione began, then simply shrugged her shoulders. "Just checking," she said finally.

Harry and Ginny read to the end of the article, and sat gazing at the photos. "It looks so horrible," Ginny murmured, trembling a bit. "I was so scared."

Harry kissed the top of her head, putting his arm around her and squeezing her shoulders consolingly. "Yeah. It does look a bit nasty at that," he agreed. He looked up at Ron and Hermione. "So who took the pictures? Was Rita here? Is she following me around again?"

"No, Rita wasn't here," Hermione replied.

"So who fed Rita the story if she wasn't here herself?" Harry pressed. "And who took the pictures? Colin knows better by now, and I didn't see him anywhere around. I didn't know any of the fan girls had cameras, but I suppose one of them must have had one."

"It wasn't Colin or a fan girl, Harry," Ron said quietly. "It was Luna."

Harry and Ginny both stared at Ron. "Luna? But she's a friend!" Harry said, suddenly incensed. "Why would a friend of ours do this to us? Why. . .?" His temper was flaring dangerously.

"Harry, please, calm down," Hermione said, placing a hand gently on his arm. "Please. Luna came and told us about it herself. She said she thought it would be helpful to you, the way last year's interview article was helpful. She wrote the article that was in The Quibbler herself, and sent the information to Rita for the Prophet because we used Rita last year to do that article. Luna took the pictures. She said she's been trying to get that kind of photo ever since you were first attacked this year so she could write an article to help you out like the one last year did." Hermione wrung her hands miserably as she finished speaking.

Ron saw her nervousness and put his hand over hers, stilling her nervous motion. He wrapped his big hand around her small ones and held them firmly. "It wasn't anyone's fault, Harry," Ron said, doing his best to protect Hermione from Harry's wrath. But it wasn't Harry's wrath they needed to be worrying about just then.


"Luna Lovegood?" Ginny exploded after being quiet throughout the previous conversation. "Luna Lovegood! How could she? I'm going to hex her so she can't write or take pictures for years!"

Harry turned and gazed at Ginny. "You are so beautiful when you're angry," he said, an amused smile tickling the corners of his mouth.


"How can you be so calm?" she barked. "Everyone thinks we're dead!"

Harry laughed out loud. "It's kind of liberating, in a way, isn't it?" he said, stretching his arms up above his head and smiling.


"What?" Ginny replied, shocked.

"Wow. If I could keep people thinking that, I really could be 'just Harry,'" he mused, a wistful expression on his face.

"But Mum and Dad, and our brothers," Ginny began, looking frantically at Ron. "They know we're OK, don't they?"

"Yes - Dumbledore talked to them in the fire yesterday from here - at least, that's what Remus thought. He said they'd be able to see you from the fire."

"Maybe we were asleep when he was talking to them," Harry offered. "We honestly didn't wake up until a few minutes before you got here."

"Harry, you don't really want people thinking you're dead, do you?" Hermione asked carefully.

He took a minute to think about it before answering. "No, not really. For one thing, Voldemort would move on to other things if he didn't have me to play with," he said with a shrug. "And we have the Quidditch finals coming up, with the Cup within reach. No, Ginny and I both need to be among the living, I suppose. Still, it was a nice thought for a while. . . ." His voice trailed off as he looked out of the high window across the room, watching a bird in flight and wishing he was that free. But he wasn't. Time to get back to the life he was destined for. He sighed and looked at his friends. "I think it will be best if we fight fire with fire."

"What do you mean?" Ron said.

"We need to do a newspaper article, complete with photos, about me and Ginny being very much alive. Colin can do the photos, I know he'll agree. Hermione, would you write the article? I don't want Rita Skeeter getting any more mileage out of me."

"Me? I'm no writer," she protested.

"You're the top student in our year. If you can't write an article, nobody here can," Harry assured her. "Just consider it another school essay. Get Professor McGonagall to look it over before you send it in, if you're worried about it."

"Won't you want to see it too?" she asked nervously.

"Yes, I suppose we should all go over it to make sure it says what we want it to say," Harry mused.

"And what is it we want to say?" Hermione said.

"I don't know exactly - we'll figure it out. But mainly that Ginny and I are alive and well. That's probably the most important thing."

"I think one of the photos should show us holding this issue of the paper, so the readers will know we were alive after this was published," Ginny suggested.


"That's a great idea. We need you to get well quickly, sweetheart, so we can do this. You've got another day to recover, so lie down and get well!" Harry said, helping her slide down into the bed again.

"Mr. Potter, you're right," Madam Pomfrey said, approaching them again with their potion. "She needs her rest. And you are well enough to be released. Both of you need this potion, but she needs one more day in bed. She'll be ready to go in the morning," Madam Pomfrey held out Harry's dose of potion again. This time, he took it.

When Ginny had taken hers, Harry leaned down and kissed her. "I'll miss you, love," he murmured as he rubbed noses with her.

"I'll miss you more," she said, pulling him down for another kiss.

"I'd better go," Harry said, kissing her forehead as he got out of bed. "I'll come back and see you again after classes are over today." He turned to Ron and Hermione. "C'mon. I want to find Colin and get this project started as soon as possible. We need to plan what kinds of photos he's going to take and what's going to be in the article." The three of them waved at Ginny and walked out of the office.

* * * * *

"The Boy-Who-Lived Lives!" the headline read three days later. Numerous photos showed Harry and Ginny together, one of them posed with the "The Boy-Who-Lived No More?" article held in both of their hands, Harry and Ginny leaning in to look at the photos from time to time, gesturing as if they were pointing various things out to each other. Other pictures showed them in their Quidditch uniforms, Firebolts in hand, or whizzing around in the air, the wind whipping their hair back from their laughing faces, and there was one of them with their arms around each other, smiling at each other, then laughing about something, their faces turning toward the camera as they laughed. They looked healthy, happy and very much alive. The wound on Harry's face was still vivid, but healing well. It showed in the photos, but the caption of the photo in which it showed the most strongly explained that it was healing and would not leave a scar.

The article read,

"Harry Potter, 16, and Ginny Weasley, 15, both members of Gryffindor House at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, are back to full health after suffering the effects of poison. Potter, a Sixth Year student, was attacked by Pansy Parkinson, a Sixth Year member of Slytherin House. Miss Parkinson was under an enchantment that forced her to attack Potter. She believed her attack to be successful, and so regretted her act that she took her own life soon after returning to her dormitory, which saddened both Potter and Weasley greatly when they heard about it. Parkinson left a note saying she was very sorry she'd 'killed Harry Potter' and that she didn't mean to do it. She mentioned being grateful for a kindness Potter showed her just before the Christmas holidays. Potter is well-known for his generous spirit and kindness of heart . . ."

"Oh Hermione, this is too much!" Harry said, making retching sounds. "'Generous spirit and kindness of heart.' The team will never let me hear the end of that!"


"Ginny approved that part," Hermione said defensively, her nose in the air. "It's the truth, so just shut up and accept it!"

"OK, I'm sorry," he said, doing his best to sound contrite but looking not all that repentant. He leaned over to kiss her cheek. "Forgive me?"

"See, there's that 'kindness of heart' she mentioned in the article," Ginny said with a giggle.


"Why are you kissing my girlfriend?" Ron asked calmly as he dropped his bag on the floor under his seat at the breakfast table. He'd gone up to the Head Table to discuss some D.A. plans with Remus and had just joined them.

"I flew into a great rage at Hermione and had to beg her forgiveness," Harry said brightly. "I'm merely displaying my 'generosity of spirit.'"

"And your vast emotional range," Hermione said with a laugh. "Oh, dear, I forgot to mention that. I'll have to write a follow-up article."


"That's all right, I think this one will do," Harry protested with a grin. He glanced around the Great Hall. "Look at everyone reading the paper. Yeah, the Slytherins just hate the article, especially when it says nice things about poor Pansy," he said, studying the reaction at the Slytherin table. "That's what I expected from them. The rest of them are either laughing - those are the ones who know me, no doubt - or discussing it in excruciating detail." He looked around some more, catching a wink and a nod from both Dumbledore and Remus, a small smile from McGonagall, and cheery waves from Hagrid and Flitwick. He grinned back at all of them.

Hermione's article was upbeat, cheerful and painted a picture of two happy teenagers living a normal life at school, good students who studied hard and enjoyed playing Quidditch, Exploding Snap and Wizard's Chess, as well as having numerous friends. Hermione had gone to the trouble to get quotes from other students about their reactions to the various articles they'd read in the past that told lies about Harry. She set the record straight on every count they could think of. The article was blunt, honest, to the point and not florid at all except where Ginny had helped out. Those parts got just the tiniest bit gushy, but nothing like Rita Skeeter's level of excess. Hermione also got quotes from various students and teachers saying what they thought of Harry. The positive nature of the article warmed Harry's heart, because everything in it was true, with the possible exception of those somewhat syrupy additions of Ginny's, and those he could live with. The Prophet had been reluctant to publish an article by a student, but when they saw the photos attached and were told they could not use them without using the article as well, they relented. Harry Potter on the front page always sold loads of papers, and with so many excellent photos of Harry, the paper's editors knew they'd have to do an extra printing, which suited them just fine. They didn't have to pay for the article or photos, so every galleon they made went into their own pockets.

Colin came over, a package in his hands. "You've seen the paper, then?" he asked gaily. "Isn't it brill?"

"Yeah, the pictures are great! And Hermione did a fantastic job on the article," Harry said, clapping the younger boy on his shoulder. "Thanks a lot for helping us out this way."

"Hey, I'm just glad to help. Here are the prints you wanted. Let me know if you want more." He handed the package to Harry.

"Thanks, Colin! I appreciate it. Are you certain I can't pay you for these?" Harry said.


"Nope. They're my treat. See you later!" he said, waving as he walked away.

"Thanks again!" Harry called after him.


"What did he give you?" Hermione asked.

"Now you're turning into a nosy reporter, eh? Needing to know all my business?" Harry teased. She gave him her best disgusted look. He relented. "Oh, all right, I suppose you'll see them soon anyway." He opened the package and spread out the pictures inside. There were copies of most of the photos from the article as well as many others. Colin had followed Harry and Ginny around the entire afternoon after Ginny was allowed to go back to her routine. Harry and Ginny had gone for a walk, snogged a bit, studied a lot, taken part in Quidditch practice, and studied some more. Colin had documented everything, and Harry and Ginny had chosen the photos for the article from the lot. Harry went through the stack of photos, showing them to his friends after he and Ginny looked at them. Here was one of the two of them walking, holding hands, Harry bending down to pick a flower and put it in Ginny's hair. Here was one of them leaning against a tree, kissing each other tenderly, then the kiss dissolving into laughter for some reason known only to Harry and Ginny. Here was a beautiful picture of the two of them on the top of a hill, the castle in the distance behind them, a gorgeous blue sky behind them as they looked at something far above and behind the camera's lens. Here was a close-up of Harry on his broom, his face concentrated as he raced for the Snitch, then split into a grin of satisfaction as he pumped his Snitch-filled fist aloft for his team to see. Here was one of Ginny, the red Quaffle under her arm, racing for the goal and then scoring. There they were, sitting at a table in the library, red hair and black intermingling as they both poured over a book while Harry helped Ginny with her O.W.L. revision. They were all wonderful pictures.

"Wow," Hermione breathed. "These are fantastic!"

"Yeah, Colin's got a real gift with the camera, doesn't he?" Harry agreed. Just then, Luna came and plopped down next to Ron.

"Hello, Ronald. Hello, Harry," she said, ignoring Hermione as usual and barely glancing at Ginny. She sounded a bit morose.

"Hi, Luna," Ron said carefully. "What's up?"

"I see there's another article about Harry in the paper," Luna said. "Hermione's going to get into trouble for it." She still acted as if Hermione wasn't there.

"No, I'm not," Hermione snapped. "Harry asked me to write it, and he asked Colin to take the pictures. We had permission from Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore as well."

"Oh," Luna said in a small voice.

"What's wrong, Luna?" Ginny said kindly, surprised she was able to treat the girl nicely after what she'd done to her and Harry.

"Oh, I thought I was going to be a journalist," she sighed, "but my career's been nipped in the bud."

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked.

"Professor Dumbledore told me I can't write about Harry anymore. There's nothing else as interesting to write about around here, so I guess I won't be a journalist after all." She looked very glum, staring at the table, with a furtive glance up at Harry from time to time. She seemed to be waiting for him to say something.

Ginny looked at Harry, not knowing what to do next. Luna was a friend, if an odd one, and hadn't meant any harm. There wasn't a mean bone in her body, from all appearances. She floated through life being picked on, never picking on anyone else, and ignoring those who made fun of or bullied her. Harry read the plea in Ginny's eyes and sighed.

"You don't have to write about me to be a journalist," he said as kindly as he could manage. "But whatever you write about, you do need to ask if the person minds you writing about them, and you need to get all the facts before you print the story. You had people thinking we were dead. That would have really hurt Ginny's family if they hadn't already known she was all right."

"And it had the wizarding world in an uproar, Luna," Hermione added. "In the paper the next day, there were stories about riots in Diagon Alley. People panicked, wondering who was going to protect them from You-Know-Who. People were building shrines to Harry, loads of flowers and toy broomsticks and candy and notes piled up in front of Quality Quidditch Supplies because it's his favourite store. People were sitting and wailing there for hours at a time because they thought he was dead. That was cruel, to let people think he was dead."

"Shrines?" Harry asked, dumbfounded.

"Yes, shrines. I didn't tell you about it. You were busy getting better and I didn't think you needed the distraction."

"Thank you, I think," he said, looking at her with his head tilted, still trying to sort out if he minded her editing the information he got that much or not. Shrines? Riots? Weird!

"Professor Dumbledore talked to me about it after my articles came out and again the next day, after all the news about the riots and shrines and stuff," Luna said quietly. "I won't be writing anymore."

"Why don't you write about Crumple-Horned whats-its?" Harry suggested sympathetically. "Your dad would enjoy publishing that kind of story."

"Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. We still haven't found them. We hunted them this past summer, but they'd migrated away from the area where we expected to find them," she said with a forlorn look.

"Then write about them migrating away. Write about Thestrals - you can see them, and loads of other people can't. Write about whatever interests you, as long as it isn't me, OK? You can be a journalist if you want to. Just don't try to be my personal journalist, OK?" Harry said earnestly, hoping he was getting through.


Luna lifted her large, odd eyes to him, staring at him seriously. Harry grew uncomfortable under her steady gaze. She wasn't trying to do Legilimens on him, of that he was certain. She seemed to be trying to memorize his face. "What is it, Luna?"

"Are we still friends, Harry?" she asked sadly.


"Yes, we're still friends," he assured her. "Friends can disagree, even hurt each other's feelings and still be friends. We each have to learn from our mistakes and try not to make them again. And we have to forgive each other. I know you were trying to help, not hurt me."

"I'm sorry, Harry," she said humbly. It was the most lucid moment any of them remembered with Luna - she always seemed to be on some other plane, but just now, she was solidly with them, unusually so.

"It's OK, Luna. I forgive you," Harry said gently.

A tear rolled down her cheek unchecked.

"Luna? Friends?" Harry said, offering his hand.


"Oh, yes!" she replied throwing herself into his arms. He patted her awkwardly on the back until she relaxed and pushed away from him again. "Sorry. I was worried you'd hate me."

"Nah. Life's too short to stay angry at your friends. Enemies, sure, but not friends," Harry assured her.

"Thanks, Harry," she said, getting to her feet. "Bye, Ronald. Bye, Harry. Bye," she said, looking from Ginny to Hermione and back at Harry again.

"See you around," Harry said.

"Well, that was interesting," Ron said after she was out of earshot.

"I feel sorry for her. She's a nice girl, just a bit. . .different," Ginny said.

Harry leaned over and kissed her temple. "That's my sweet girl," he said fondly. He went back to looking at the photos in his hands.

"Why are there duplicates of some of these?" Ron asked.


"Ginny and I thought your parents would like copies of some of them, so I asked Colin for extras for them. And I had some made for Remus and Hagrid, as well."

"What about us?" Hermione asked, her eyebrows raised.


"What about you?" Harry said, a smile tickling the corners of his mouth.

"Ron and I might like pictures of the two of you, too, you know," she said, looking a bit hurt.

Harry spread the pictures out further. Some of them had even more copies. "I already had the copies made. Pick out what you want," he said with a smile. Ron, Hermione and Ginny each picked out some photos, comparing their choices and going back through the stack to change their choices over and over.

"Oh, this is too hard! I can't decide which one to take," Hermione said.

"You can have more than one, if you want," Harry assured her.

"Thanks!" she said brightly. "Ron, we should get Colin to do this for us, too. These are fantastic photos."

"Yeah, we'll have to ask him," Ron agreed.

Just then, Malfoy and his gang walked by behind them. "Oh, please. Not another meeting of the Potter Fan Club," Malfoy sneered. "It's not enough for you to be on the front page of the paper twice in one week. Now you're signing photos like Gilderoy Lockhart. Next you'll be curling your hair and wearing bright-coloured robes. You're disgusting, Potter."

Harry turned around and looked at Malfoy, quietly gazing into the Slytherin's eyes until the blond boy dropped his eyes.

"You'll regret all this publicity, Potter," Malfoy sneered, trying to regain his composure after being stared down by his enemy.

"I regret all the publicity that's followed me through my whole life, but you know what? I didn't ask for it. It just happens, and it's nearly all due to Voldemort. So gripe at him if you're jealous of the publicity that follows me around. Maybe he'll give you a scar and torment you for years so you, too, can be front page news. Would you like that, Malfoy? Would you?" Harry said in a dangerously quiet voice.

"Your time is running out, Potter," Malfoy warned, trying to sound as dangerous as Harry but sounding only whiny instead.

"Yeah? I've heard that before, loads of times," Harry replied tersely. "Don't bother me again until you have something interesting to say. Which means you'll never bother me again." With that, Harry turned his back on Malfoy, completely ignoring him.

Malfoy's face was white, he was so incensed. He stood there huffing in rage, not sure what he was going to do, but knowing he was going to do something to get Potter for insulting him so much.

"Harry," Hermione whispered urgently, "he's going to hex you."

"I can't wait," Harry said with a cocky grin, lifting his hand from his lap enough to show them he had his wand ready.

"Mr. Malfoy," came a sneering voice, "why are you loitering near the Gryffindor table?" Snape descended on them like a huge silent bat.

"Uh . . . I was just. . ."

"You were just what?" Snape said in a dangerously honeyed tone.

"Just. . .um. . ."

"How about 'just leaving'?" Snape said, his greasy black hair falling forward and curtaining his face as he leaned toward Malfoy and murmured, "Remember my warning. Leave Potter and his little friends alone. You don't want to cross me on this."

Malfoy gulped, whiter than ever, but with angry red patches blotching his face. "Yes, Professor," he said through gritted teeth, then stormed out of the Great Hall, his gang following him in complete confusion.

Harry looked at Ron and the two of them had to stifle their laughter. Snape was still close by. Harry quietly pocketed his wand, glancing up at the Head Table and seeing Dumbledore and Remus both watching him. Dumbledore gave him a slight smile and a nod. Remus grinned openly. They were both proud that Harry had held his temper and the situation had been defused with nobody hurt, no damage done.

Ron saw their reaction, then grinned at Harry and said, "You keep up all this good behaviour, you'll end up as Head Boy despite never being a Prefect."

"Oh, no, that would be awful!" Harry protested as he laughed. "We can't have anyone thinking Harry Potter the troublemaker is following rules! I wonder how many school rules we can break today and get away with it?" He and his friends discussed many outrageous plans that would never come to fruition as they finished their breakfast and left for class.

* * * * *

The next-to-last Quidditch game of the year, Hufflepuff vs. Slytherin in early May, was a study in viciousness. The Slytherins used every dirty trick in the book, and seemingly invented quite a few more, to defeat the Hufflepuffs, who had actually had a decent record this year. Half the Hufflepuff team was carried off the field with injuries before it was all over. The final score was a miracle, showing the Hufflepuff determination despite all odds: Slytherin 200 to Hufflepuff's 120. It was a hard-fought game that kept the school buzzing for the remaining weeks before the final game, which pitted Gryffindor against Ravenclaw.

The morning of the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw game dawned bright and hot, with the wind blowing erratically, sometimes just a gentle breeze, other times nearly a gale force wind. A weather change was coming, probably by mid-afternoon when the game would be in full swing. By early afternoon, the stands were full to capacity. Every student and staff member welcomed this happy break from preparations for end-of-term exams. Cheers and whistles filled the air, as well as choruses of "Weasley is our King" and "Weasley is our Queen" from the Gryffindors.

Finally, the teams came on the field. The Ravenclaws, dressed in blue, were captained by Roger Davies. They flew around the pitch to cheers and formed a half circle near the centre of the pitch, while Roger landed and waited to shake hands with Harry.


Dean Thomas announced, "And now, the Gryffindor team!" To cheers, wild applause and stamping of feet, the Gryffindor Quidditch team circled the pitch, then hovered in a half-circle facing the Ravenclaw team as Harry landed and stretched his hand out to Roger.

"Good luck," Harry said with a cheerful smile.

"You too," Roger replied, shaking his hand firmly, then leaping onto his broom and zooming upward. Harry followed close behind.

"And the balls have been released!" Dean cried. Soon the air was filled with scarlet and blue streaks as the teams raced around the pitch, doing their best to outmanoeuvre each other.

"It's Ginny Weasley with the Quaffle and look at that Firebolt go! Nice Bludger work by the Creevey brothers. And Ginny is fouled by Ravenclaw Chaser Atkinson. Ginny will take the foul shot - and she scores! Gryffindor 10, Ravenclaw zero!" The wind was whipping up strongly now, and the sky was darkening. Storms were on the horizon.

"And it's Finnegan racing up the pitch - he passes to Ginny Weasley, who passes to Bell, who passes back to Weasley. Look at the teamwork! The Gryffindor Chasers are a well-oiled machine! And Bell scores! Gryffindor 20, Ravenclaw zero!"

"Ravenclaw in possession. Davies is racing up the pitch, and . . .OH! Nice Bludger work by Colin Creevey! Davies drops the Quaffle, which is captured by Seamus Finnegan! Go, Seamus, go! Finnegan passes to Weasley, who dodges the Ravenclaw Beaters handily on her Firebolt. And she SCORES! Gryffindor 30, Ravenclaw, zero!"

The game went on in this fashion for a couple of hours, the Ravenclaws eventually getting their rhythm going and scoring several times, finally drawing almost even with Gryffindor in the scoring. It was an exciting, fun, well-fought game on all counts. The wind intensified, black clouds blotted out the sunlight, making it seem more like dusk than late afternoon, and the skies opened. It became hard to see the action at all, much less which robes were blue and which were scarlet. Dean Thomas kept his commentary going, struggling to see past the sheets of rain that darkened the entire pitch as if the sun had already gone down. Thunder boomed, and lightning creased the sky repeatedly.

"Davies has the Quaffle. He races up the pitch, guarded closely by Ginny Weasley and Katie Bell. He reaches the goal, throws and. . .Ron Weasley saves it! Weasley is our king!" A chorus of "Weasley is our King" rang through the Gryffindor stands. "Ginny Weasley with the Quaffle, neatly dodging both Bludgers. Look at that girl fly! And. . .wait! Is that the Snitch? It's so bloody dark, I can't see it at all, but Harry Potter is doing one of his trademark dives straight toward the ground. Ravenclaw Seeker Cho Chang is on his tail, but her broom is no match for Harry's Firebolt. Whoa, look at that! The Snitch must have changed course, because Harry's zooming straight up! He's past Chang, who just fell off her broom onto the muddy pitch. That girl nearly ploughed herself trying to follow Potter! I hope he catches the Snitch soon, he's nearly out of sight! Look at him go! He's reaching. . .he's reaching. . . and he's got the Snitch! Gryffindor wins the Cup! But wait!" Dean's voice suddenly lost its booming vitality. "Where's Harry?" he said in a tremulous voice. Pandemonium broke out both because the Gryffindors had just won the Quidditch Cup, and because Harry had completely disappeared when he caught the Snitch. The Gryffindor team zoomed around the pitch, then outside it, looking for Harry, calling for him over and over. Ginny came back a few minutes later, wailing inconsolably, holding Harry's Firebolt in her hand. Ron flew to her and wrapped his arms around her, guiding their brooms slowly to the ground.

"Silence!" came Dumbledore's magnified voice. "Everyone please be calm." When the immense crowd quieted, Dumbledore went on. "Apparently someone made the Snitch a Portkey. We will make every effort to find Harry Potter. Everyone go quickly and quietly to your dormitories. Prefects, please make certain all students are accounted for. Teachers, please meet me in the staff room right away. Mr. Weasley, when you have completed your Prefect duties, please see me in my office." Ron glanced up at Dumbledore and nodded, then wrapped his arm around Hermione, who'd just reached him and was sobbing as if her heart would break. He kissed the top of her head and, with one arm around her, the other around his grieving sister, a grim-faced Ron led them on the long, sad walk to Gryffindor Tower. A very subdued Gryffindor House made their way inside the castle, along with the rest of the stunned student body. Only the Slytherins seemed to find anything at all to smile about. Draco Malfoy was strutting for some reason. Remus Lupin noticed this, grabbed Malfoy by the scruff of the neck and dragged him along to the staff meeting.

* * * * *

When Harry was racing for the Snitch, he could sense Cho close behind him, but he poured on the power and the Firebolt left her far behind. He reached out, the Snitch just beyond his fingertips, then closer, closer, and. . .it zoomed upwards and he had to chase it again! The Firebolt responded beautifully to his demand for a quick turn and more speed, and soon the Snitch was within reach again! He stretched out his arm. . .closer. . .closer. . .closer. . .he had it! Just as his heart leapt with elation that they'd won the Quidditch Cup, his stomach felt that familiar tug that told him he was holding onto a Portkey. He did his best to let go, but the only thing he was able to let go of was his faithful Firebolt. He hoped the Whomping Willow wouldn't make it a victim, as it had his Nimbus 2000. Harry soon found himself thumping to the soggy ground in a graveyard. He glanced around quickly and saw he was surrounded by Death Eaters, with Voldemort standing right in front of him, laughing his high, cold laugh.


"I guess you caught more than a Snitch this time, eh, Potter?" he sneered.

"What do you want? You interrupted a perfectly good game," Harry snapped in disgust as he got to his feet, apparently wiping the mud off his robes, but in reality, trying to smear the mud across their bright scarlet colour to give him some camouflage.

"What do I want? The usual," Voldemort replied silkily. "I want you dead. Actually, you're already dead, you just haven't fallen down yet. Stand and meet your fate like a man, Potter."

Harry looked down at his body with apparent interest, then made a show of pinching himself. "Dead? Nope, not yet!" he cried, pulling his wand as he dropped and rolled away. The ensuing battle lit up the dark sky like fireworks.

Voldemort was determined that Harry would die this time, whether at his hand or someone else's. More than fifty Death Eaters, plus Voldemort, were after Harry.

It was all Harry could do to dodge the dozens of spells coming his way. He shot spells as he rolled, dodged, used whatever shelter he could find to protect himself, trying to aim well, but between slipping in the mud and having to shoot so fast, his spells often went wide of their mark. He managed to hit six of the Death Eaters, taking them out of action, either injured, stunned or dead, as he ran. Finally, he managed to duck behind a large headstone and change into a cat, racing off through the high grass to disappear in the woods, leaving the Death Eaters behind him running around in confusion, shooting each other in their frantic attempts to kill him. Once he was in the woods, Harry changed into a raven and flew above the trees to get his bearings. Yes, there was that house on the hill he'd seen in his Fourth Year - the Riddle house. He was in the same graveyard. He landed high in a tree and changed back into himself so he could send an Adfero to Dumbledore. He considered Disapparating back to Hogwarts, but something in him simply wouldn't let him run from the battle. Stupid really, but there it is. I can't just leave, he thought morosely, thinking of Ginny, thinking of the fun of the Quidditch game, thinking of the fabulous victory party that should be going on in Gryffindor Tower right now, but probably wasn't. Voldemort managed to spoil an awful lot of the fun things in Harry's life, and Harry was sick and tired of it. No, he wouldn't Disapparate. Somehow, he was going to beat Voldemort and his gang of thugs. Somehow. But how?

The Death Eaters had spread out to search the woods. Some of them were smart enough to look up from time to time, and one of them noticed his silvery Adfero flying away. "There! In that tree!" he called. Spells hit the tree, destroying all the branches around Harry as well as the one he was on. He held his arms in front of his face to protect himself from flying debris as he fell several feet. Halfway to the ground, he managed to change into a raven and fly to another tree, but someone had seen the sudden movement and was following him. The tree he landed in was blasted to splinters. Harry was stunned by the blast and fell painfully to the ground. He lay there in raven form, trying to get his breath back. Death Eaters were still running through the woods looking for him.

"Remember, he's an Animagus now. Look for a black cat!" came Voldemort's cold, high voice.

Antonin Dolohov stopped beside the raven's still form, turning the bird over with his foot. "I guess this one was in the tree when it got blasted. Bye-bye, blackbird!" he sneered, and lifted his foot to kill the bird.

The raven quickly rolled over and took off, its flight awkward and lumbering, but still flight. It disappeared in the dark forest, leaving the Death Eaters behind for the moment, and landed in a huge old beech tree, settling in a wide spot formed by a large branch coming out of the trunk. The raven changed back into Harry, who lay there gasping for breath, whispering, "Help me. Help me. Help me," on each exhalation. He sat up and did a Disillusionment Charm on himself so he could rest a while in peace. The Death Eaters were racing madly through the forest, sometimes shooting each other when they thought they saw Harry ahead of them, or hiding in the brush nearby. Harry wanted to laugh but knew that was a bad idea. Still, it was almost entertaining to watch them hurtling around like mad things below him. How am I going to get out of this one? he worried. There are just too many of them. I could fight Voldemort alone, or some of them alone, but not so many all at once. That's just not possible. He gave little thought to the fact that his survival so far in this battle was another impossible thing. He was alive, and mostly in one piece, with only minor injuries so far.

* * * * *

"Mr. Weasley, it's time to use Dumbledore's Army," Dumbledore said reluctantly. "I'd rather use Aurors or Order members, but the Ministry isn't likely to send Aurors quickly enough. There will be Order members there to help, but I suspect we'll be badly outnumbered if we don't use D.A. members as well. Order members will be recognizable by a phoenix symbol on their robes that will glow briefly when a wand is pointed their way. Be sure to tell the D.A. members that, so they don't shoot our people by mistake. I think your older group is ready for combat, so let's plan on using them."

Ron gazed at Dumbledore, his eyes steady and his face grim. "Yes, Professor. They're as ready as we can get them."

"Good lad. Call them together. Leave the First Year D.A. members behind to guard the castle. Get brooms for all the Second Year D.A. members even if you have to borrow personal brooms from those who aren't going. Have everyone meet me in the Entrance Hall in fifteen minutes."

"Yes, Professor," Ron said, and left the office.

"Now, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said sadly. "It seems you know something I wish to know. Will you tell me willingly, or will I have to use Veritaserum?"

"You can't get it out of me!" Malfoy sneered boldly. "I'll never tell."

Dumbledore sighed, then glanced up at Snape. "Severus, if you would, please?"

"Certainly, Headmaster," Snape said, gliding over to where Malfoy was magically bound to a chair and pushing the boy's head back roughly. "Drink this," he said, his lip curled in disgust.

"TRAITOR! The Dark Lord will hear about this!" Malfoy spat, fighting to avoid the Veritaserum that was being dripped into his mouth despite his best efforts.

"Watch who you're calling names, Mr. Malfoy," Snape said in a dangerous murmur. "You don't want to cross me."

"You're double-crossing the Dark Lord!" Malfoy screamed. "He will find out! He'll punish you!"

"And you won't be around to see it, tsk-tsk, isn't that tragic?" Snape whispered in Malfoy's ear.

Malfoy's face went whiter than ever before. "What?" he said, aghast.


"Take your potion," Snape insisted, pouring more liquid down the boy's throat, making him gag. He looked up at Dumbledore. "That should be enough."

"Thank you, Severus," Dumbledore said mildly. "Now, Mr. Malfoy," he began, "you have been a very naughty boy, haven't you? You've joined the Dark Lord, you've taken the Dark Mark, and you're plotting against Harry Potter and the wizarding world. Is this true?"

"Yes, of course it is," Malfoy snapped. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Yes, yes, why indeed," Dumbledore mused sadly. "Where is Harry Potter?"

Malfoy thought a minute, trying to fight the effects of the potion. "I don't know."

"Yes, you do. Where did the Portkey take him? Who put the spell on the Portkey?" Dumbledore asked.

"Madam Hooch put the spell on it. Bellatrix Lestrange put the Imperious Curse on her with the instructions on what to do, and I activated the Trigger Charm on her to make her do it when Pansy's poison ring didn't kill him." Malfoy was answering coolly, as if he was proud of what he was saying - and, knowing Malfoy, he probably was proud of it.

Dumbledore turned to McGonagall. "Send for Madam Hooch."

"Yes, Albus," she replied, then hurried to do his bidding.

Dumbledore looked at Malfoy seriously. "Where did the Portkey take him? What's going to happen there?"

"He's being taken to the Dark Lord. I don't know the location, but Potter's been there before. It's where the Dark Lord got his new body. They're going to kill him there."

Remus and Dumbledore exchanged a glance. "The Riddle house," Remus breathed. "That's a couple of hundred miles away. It will take us a long time to get there on brooms."

"I'll make Portkeys for the D.A. members to use so they'll get there quickly. I'll set them for about a mile away, then they can fly to the graveyard," Dumbledore said. "I'm alerting the Order and the Ministry, as well. Hopefully, the Ministry can send some Aurors to help, but I won't count on them."

McGonagall arrived with Madam Hooch. "Rolanda, what do you know about the Snitch being made into a Portkey?" Dumbledore asked her seriously.


"Nothing," the woman said honestly, her yellow, hawk-like eyes flashing. "I was astounded when Potter disappeared. It was a Portkey?"

"Yes. Has anyone else been near the Quidditch equipment in the last few days?"

"Only the teams, when they check it out for practice," she replied.


"Have you visited The Ladies' Shop in Hogsmeade this year?"

"Yes, they had some wonderful lotion that helped the windburn on my face," she said with a smile. "A lovely woman ran the shop. I was sorry to see it close."

"Bellatrix LeStrange, a Death Eater, ran the shop," Dumbledore informed her sadly. Madam Hooch's face fell. "She tried to kill Harry Potter with various potions delivered by girls she'd enchanted. I think she must have enchanted you to turn the Snitch into a Portkey. I believe you've had a Memory Charm put on you, or you'd remember turning the Snitch into a Portkey. I'd like do a Memory Charm reversal spell on you, and I'd also like you to take some Veritaserum so we can find out if you know any more information that will be helpful in rescuing Harry."

"Yes, yes, of course, do the charm, and I'll take the Veritaserum," Madam Hooch said, obviously upset. "I certainly wouldn't have done anything to harm a student on purpose. You do know that, don't you, Albus?" she said desperately. "Remus, I'd never harm Harry! I think the world of him!"

Remus looked lost, his eyes dark hollows in the haggard landscape of his face. He'd grown to love Harry as a son. He wouldn't have been any more heartbroken if the missing child was his own flesh and blood. Harry had given him so much joy in the last year, as well as scaring him with his many close calls, but the overwhelming feeling Remus had when he thought of Harry was joy. Somehow, in the midst of the horror that often filled his life, Harry managed to find joy and laughter in even the simplest things, and he'd helped Remus to find it, too.

Dumbledore noticed the heartbroken look on Remus's face. "We'll find him, Remus," he assured him. "And he's a fighter. He'll be all right."

"We're wasting time here," Remus said suddenly. "Draco told us where to look for him. Can't we go after him now?"

Snape had already done the Memory Charm reversal spell and was giving Rolanda Hooch the Veritaserum. "She's ready," he said quietly.


"Rolanda, do you know where the Snitch was to take Harry?" Dumbledore asked her.

"The graveyard down the hill from the Riddle house just outside Little Hangleton," she answered immediately.

"What's going to happen there?"

"I don't know. I was told to turn the Snitch into a Portkey that would take Harry there."

"What if the other Seeker had caught it?" Remus asked suddenly.

"Harry would have to fall off his broom before Cho Chang could catch a Snitch before him," Madam Hooch said with a smile in her voice. "That boy can out-fly anyone. But I also spelled the Snitch to evade Chang."

"Do you know anything else about their plans for Harry? Did you have any other instructions?"

"I was not supposed to do anything if Pansy Parkinson had succeeded in killing Harry," she replied. "I don't know anything else about it."

"Did someone put a Memory Charm on you?" Remus asked suddenly.


"Yes. It was the woman in The Ladies Shop. She also did the Imperious Curse on me," she replied.

Remus looked at Dumbledore. "That means this was the last resort. He's being taken to Voldemort, just as Draco said. The other plots were to kill him outright."

"Yes, I believe you're right," Dumbledore said. He looked at the people gathered in his office. "All right. Severus, you and Filius organize the defence of the castle using the staff, the First Year D.A. members and any of the older students who remain after the D.A. leaves." Snape and Flitwick nodded and left the office. "Fawkes, take this to Order Headquarters for me. Then go and find Harry. He's near Little Hangleton. He may need your help," Dumbledore said, handing a quickly scribbled message to the phoenix. "Hagrid, I'd like you to inform the dragons that no one is to come on Hogwarts' grounds except staff and students. No one. And see if Grawp will help out with guarding the gates, as well. I'd like you to stay close to your hut. It's possible Harry will try to get to you, if he can escape at all." He looked at Hagrid and saw that the gamekeeper understood his meaning. Harry might come to Hagrid in an Animagus form and be injured, needing Hagrid's help. "If you hear from him, let me know right away." Hagrid nodded, his face grim, and strode out the door. "Minerva, contact Fred and George Weasley and tell them it's time. Give them the location and tell them Harry's already there. Tell them we'll be there in a few moments." McGonagall left to contact the Weasley twins.

He looked at the remaining staff. "Remus and I will be going with the D.A. to rescue Harry. It's possible that his kidnapping is a diversionary tactic. Voldemort may be trying to get us out of the castle so he can take it. We must not let that happen. I'm leaving the rest of you here to defend the castle. Minerva, Filius and Severus know what to do. Follow their instructions, and offer them any help you can." He looked around the group a moment longer. "What we've been preparing for, and dreading, for so many years is happening now, I believe. Our preparations will not be in vain. Good luck." With that, he and Remus swept out of the office, followed quickly by the other teachers

In the Entrance Hall, nearly a hundred students waited for the Headmaster. The Second-Year D.A. ranks had been swelled from the initial twenty-five members to almost a hundred by a lot of hard work on the part of older students who had joined this year. They stood quietly holding brooms and whatever other equipment their particular jobs required. Some looked nervous, others looked ill, some were crying, but all had a determined air. Ron was briefing them.

"Squads one and two will come in from the left and right flank. Squads three and four will come up the centre. The rest of you will be held back as reinforcements. Hermione and I will be circling the battlefield on brooms, watching the action with Omnioculars. When I see a need to change tactics, to have you fall back, or to reinforce a line somewhere, I'll tell Hermione and she will send an Adfero to your squad leader. She and I will then move immediately so the enemy can't pinpoint our location. We'll send in reinforcements when we see the first squads tiring or needing help. Ginny will be watching with Omnioculars and will send in the healers where needed. Healer Squad, I need to speak to you a moment. Follow me," Ron said, leading them to an empty classroom.

"You all have the supplies you need, right?" He glanced around at the ten Healers plus Ginny and saw all of them nod. "You have a tough job. You will have to be strong. Here's the thing - if someone is hurt but still able to fight, do a quick job of healing them or just leave them unless they're bleeding badly, and let them go back to fighting. If someone's down and can't fight, pull them onto your broom and get them behind our lines before you try to treat them. If someone's dead. . .," here, Ron had to swallow hard. He steeled himself for the job ahead, knowing they were depending on him to be strong for all of them. "If someone's dead, leave them where they've fallen. Don't take the time to get them out of there. We'll pick them up after the battle is over. Keep these orders to yourselves so you won't discourage our fighters. Defend yourself if you have to, but don't go out of your way to engage the enemy. Your job is to heal the fighters, not to be a fighter. Got it?" He looked around and saw grim determination on all their faces. "Let's go rejoin the others." When he stood before the assembled D.A. members again, he said, "This is what we've been training for. We can do this. I'm really proud of all of you. Good luck. Let's do it."