Harry Potter and the Book of Shadows

The next morning, Harry impatiently hurried through dressing, wanting to get to the Great Hall quickly. Hopefully, Hedwig would have a reply from Lupin, though Harry tried to tell himself it was far too soon. He ran into Hermione in the common room.

"Where's Ron?" she asked.

"Still asleep," Harry replied. He was too anxious to see if he had mail to wait. Hermione seemed to understand and they left together.

They walked in silence; Hermione sensed Harry's agitation and wisely restrained herself from finding its cause, though she had a fairly good idea. When they reached the cavernous entryway, Harry caught a flash of white-blond hair out of the corner of his eye. Waving Hermione on, he turned toward the dungeon stairs. Hermione hesitated, but went into the Great Hall alone.

Harry knew it was entirely possible Draco was simply returning to the Slytherin common room after breakfast, but something told him otherwise. Why the instinct to follow was so strong, he wasn't sure, but the urge to find out where Draco was going was almost overpowering. Trying to make as little noise as possible, Harry crept to the dark entry of the dungeon staircase. Muffled voices drifted toward him, echoing lightly off the walls of cold stone. Peeking down the stairs and not seeing anyone, he made his way silently toward the sound. Following the hushed conversation, Harry stopped just outside the classroom once used for Potions tutoring and held his breath.

"...need to exercise restraint. Your attitude-"

Harry recognized Snape's voice.

"Is not your concern. He gave the assignment to me," Draco replied in a haughty tone. "I'm the one he trusted with-"

"The Dark Lord trusts no one," Snape interrupted harshly. "A fact you would do well to learn quickly."

"Why he insisted on making you some sort of guard dog is beyond me."

Harry dared to sidle closer to steal a look through the crack in the door. Draco had turned his back to Snape, obviously uninterested in whatever warning Snape was trying to convey. His glance flicking to his forearm, Draco's annoyed look turned to a smirk.

"Especially since my father has always been the Dark Lord's most faithful follower."

Arrogantly looking the other way, Draco missed the dark expression clouding Snape's face. It was the first time Harry had ever seen Snape look at his favorite student with anything but indulgent leniency.

Masking his obvious irritation, Snape said curtly, "You would do well to complete your assignment swiftly and quietly. Drawing unnecessary attention to yourself is not advisable at this time."

"Worried I'll outrank you once the Dark Lord sees how valuable I can be?" Draco sneered. He finally turned to face the Potions Master. "You should be."

Harry only had seconds to dart into a cramped storage closet before Draco swept from the classroom. Peering out through the sliver of open door, Harry saw Snape pause on the threshold of the door, an unreadable expression on his face.

"So should you."

Wondering at the cryptic comment, Harry slowly counted to twenty after Snape passed out of sight before creeping from his hiding place. The answer to his question to Lupin meant less now that he was sure he had been right. What mattered was finding out how much the Order knew.

Another low murmur of conversation drew his attention as he headed for the staircase. Curiosity won out again, and deciding to tempt fate a second time, Harry followed the sound. He paused behind a stone pillar just outside Persephone's office and held his breath.

"..down here after every class." Harry caught the end of Snape's comment and was surprised at the frustration clear in his voice. It was unusual for the reticent Potions Master to show anything but a bland dislike for things in general. To Harry, he sounded almost... desperate.

"It will take time to...adjust," Persephone said. "It will get easier," she assured him after a pause, though Harry heard the uncertainty in her voice.

Apparently, Snape did as well. "Your confidence is overwhelming."

Harry could only picture her expression at Snape's dry tone. "I can't imagine it getting more difficult. The Occlumency is helping," she added.

"Then we should continue practicing." Snape made it sound like torture, which Harry had to agree, it had seemed like to him at the time. Still, now he was giving Persephone Occlumency lessons? Why? Did Dumbledore know?

Not willing to press his luck any further, Harry silently backed his way to the stairs and exited the dungeons quickly, though their conversation continued. He almost wished he hadn't listened to the exchange because it raised many questions and answered none. When he finally walked into the Great Hall, he saw both Ron and Ginny had joined Hermione. He hurried over and sat across from the girls, next to Ron.

The Weasleys greeted him absently, but Hermione raised an eyebrow in silent question. Eager to share his discovery, at least about Malfoy, Harry leaned forward to whisper, "I was right. Snape's helping Draco... and Draco is a Death Eater."

Hermione looked skeptical, but her expression turned grim as Harry recounted what he'd seen and overheard.

"But what's the assignment?" Ron asked as soon as Harry finished.

Harry shook his head and sat back. "I don't know. They never said."

"Likely something to do with Dunn's friend so they can find the Book of Shadows," Hermione guessed. "Same as what we're trying to figure out."

"Or what's in the Book," Ginny suggested. She thought a moment. "He did have all those vampire books checked out. I think he's trying to figure out who the Guardian is."

Ron glanced at Hermione, his plate of eggs forgotten. "We should see what other books he's been checking out of the library. Then we can figure out what he's up to from there."

Hermione looked impressed. "That's brilliant, Ron!"

Ron shrugged and looked back down at his plate, poking at his uneaten food. "I have my moments."

Harry wondered at Ron's less than enthusiastic reaction to Hermione's praise. Hermione, too, seemed perturbed by his indifference. Ginny, buried in notes once again, failed to notice anything amiss.

"Well, we do have Defense later today, maybe we'll get a hint of something." Harry stood up, glancing skyward in the hopes of a flash of white. As he predicted, Hedwig had not appeared. He wondered if perhaps he should borrow another owl and let Lupin know what he'd found out that morning. He debated it as they split up in the entry; Ginny off to Herbology, and the trio making their way down to the dungeons.

Classes yielded no useful information as to Draco's assignment for Voldemort, though Harry had little hope they would. Later that evening, a discouraged Harry stared unseeing out the window of the common room. They had yet to figure out a way to find out what books Draco had been examining, and it wasn't as if they could just ask Madam Pince without it seeming rather odd.

As Harry sat lost in his own thoughts, Hermione organized her color-coded notes into teetering heaps in preparation for approaching exams. Ginny had fallen asleep halfway through writing an essay, but no one had the heart to wake her to either finish it, or find a more comfortable bed. Ron had however, moved the ink bottle tipping precariously by her cheek. Idly doodling on the margin of his Charms book, he paused to watch Hermione juggle several large books, finally stacking them with the appropriate piles of notes.

Harry looked up curiously as Ron rose suddenly and headed out the portrait hole without a word. Hermione, too absorbed in her arranging of parchments, didn't see Harry's inquisitive look or notice Ron's sudden departure. His ability to focus nonexistent, Harry watched the back of the Fat Lady's painting impatiently until, almost an hour later, Ron reappeared.

Before he could even ask, Ron pulled a crumpled bit of parchment from his pocket. "These are all the books Malfoy has taken out in the last month."

Looking up from her array of schoolwork, Hermione blankly stared. "What?"

"Everything Malfoy's checked out, even the ones from the Restricted Section," Ron replied, trying not to look too pleased with himself.

"How did you do it?" Harry asked as he read the list.

Leaning back, Ron said, "I just asked Madame Pince for a book I knew Malfoy had out, one of the ones Ginny mentioned. When she told me it was checked out, I asked what else she had on the same subject and she ran down a list- this list. I told her we all had an essay."

Hermione frowned at Ron's reasoning. "So you're not positive he took all these out," she replied, taking in his explanation.

Ron's smile evaporated at Hermione's words. "We know You-Know-"

He stopped at Harry's look. "Fine, Voldemort, has got him researching something. We know Snape gave him a way into the Restricted Section. So you can be sure he took out every book he could that might tell him what he wants to know. That's every book on this list."

The vehemence in his voice surprised Harry. Hermione had the grace to look a bit chastised.

In an attempt to diffuse the sudden awkwardness, Harry said, "I've seen a few of these in the Room of Requirement. We looked through about half of these when we were trying to find out about the Book of Shadows. Binding, rejuvenation, vampires- he's catching up on what we already know."

Sadly eying her notes, Hermione said, "We'll I guess we'd better get on with our own research, then."

Leaving her studying for later, Hermione rose to get the short roll of parchment on which they'd summarized what they gathered about the Book of Shadows over the Christmas holidays. As Harry waited for her to return, a feeling of unease settled in his stomach. They should have kept on with their research, though at the time finding the actual Book had taken precedence of figuring out what was in it. He felt like they'd worked their way through a labyrinth only to find themselves back at the beginning.

Though the weekend was bright and sunny, Harry did not get out to enjoy the mild weather. Knowing Quidditch practice would start up again soon in preparation for the final match of the year, neither he nor Ron argued when Hermione insisted they head to the Room of Requirement to pick up where they had left off. Ginny mumbled something about joining them later, but with the memories of their own OWLs still lingering, the trio did not expect her to show.

Once again surrounded by books concerning all the potential subjects within the Book of Shadows, Hermione suggested a 'divide and conquer' strategy of research. They each took a subject and began collecting texts. Harry had chosen binding spells, Ron had insisted on taking all the books on vampires, leaving Hermione with spells of rejuvenation. After almost six years of writing essays for classes, they, Hermione especially, had become adept at compiling information and by that evening had made a fair dent each of their subjects.

On the other side of the castle, Ginny stared blankly at the page of notes in front of her. Blinking, she tried to focus and realized she was so exhausted, she couldn't even remember what subject she'd been studying for the last hour. Glancing at the tall mullioned windows of the library, she was surprised to see an inky black sky. Once again, she'd missed dinner. Stomach growling, she gathered up her belongings, hoping she'd at least been able to memorize something in exchange for missing yet another meal. Ducking under the desk to retrieve a quill that had fallen out of reach, she heard a familiar voice mumbling a few desks away.

Peeking out from under the table, she saw Draco scribbling furiously across a parchment, stacks of books piled around him like a wall. Running a finger along the spines of one pile, he cursed and got up. Shifting books angrily, he swore again and stalked off, muttering something about books constantly going missing. Taking a huge risk, Ginny slid out from under her table and grabbed a handful of blank parchments. Hurrying to Malfoy's desk, she quickly murmured, "Effingo."

Hearing muffled footsteps approaching, she made copies of the first page of notes at the bottom of the stack, and the most recent page on the top, hoping it would be enough to tell them something about what Malfoy was up to. She dove back under the adjoining desk just as Malfoy rounded the corner of bookshelves. Crawling back to her own desk, she grabbed her stray quill and rose to sit back on her chair. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Malfoy watching her. She dumped the copied notes carelessly onto one of her many piles, and seeing the broken quill in her hand, sighed and tossed it in the bin behind her.

Malfoy smirked to himself as he opened the book he'd brought back. As she gathered her things and rose to leave, Ginny hid her own smirk.

In the Room of Requirement, Ginny showed the two copied pages to Hermione, who frowned. Harry and Ron paused in their writing to look over in interest.

"The stack was pretty tall," Ginny commented as Hermione considered the paper in front of her. "Like something you would write." Though she meant it as a joke, no one laughed.

"It's not like Malfoy is anything like Hermione," Ron said loyally. "Stupid git."

Hermione interrupted before Ron could continue, "Just because he's nasty doesn't mean he's brainless. It's not like he's..." She paused and looked up at Ron's darkening expression. "...Goyle or something."

Harry hated to admit it, but she was right. Snape's coddling aside, Draco had always gotten top marks. Perhaps it was time to stop underestimating him. "She's right. So what's he working on?"

With a sigh, Hermione put the two parchments back together and handed them back to Ginny. "Just like we thought, same as us. It looks like he's almost done, though. This new page looks like some sort of summary. Rather well-written, too."

Ignoring her admiring tone, Ron asked, "So what does that mean? Without the middle part, can you tell if he's found out more than us?"

She shrugged. "Hard to tell. All I can say is I'd guess he's about to hand this information off."

Harry felt frustration rising. "So Voldemort is about to get a full report on the contents and possible whereabouts of the Book of Shadows while we have-"

"All of this," Ginny reminded him. Glancing at the stacks of notes in front of each of the trio, she crossed her arms. "We're doing just as well. And who's to say Voldemort will even look at Draco's essay?" At their confused looks, she suggested, "What if it was just a test to see if he could follow orders, or see if he could be useful? And if he is a new and over-eager Death Eater, maybe Voldemort just wanted him out of the way."

That was something that hadn't occurred to them. Harry considered. "Either way, I think I'm going to follow him and see what he's up to." By now, the others knew when it was useless to argue with him, and so, let him go.

Slipping on his Invisibility Cloak, Harry left the Room of Requirement. Luckily, Draco was just exiting the library as Harry turned the corner. Though he followed Draco until he headed through the Slytherin common room entrance, Draco did nothing of any interest. He didn't ask Snape's opinion of his compilation, nor did he show it to anyone else. Harry supposed that made sense since Draco was over-confident enough to think it was perfect and would want all the credit for himself. Still, Harry was concerned he'd miss how Malfoy planned on getting the papers to Voldemort. That would definitely be worth knowing. Vowing to tail Draco until he knew when and how he'd sent off the information, Harry wished he could enlist Dobby's help. The house-elf could get into the Slytherin common room far more easily than he, and Harry had a feeling that was where the parchments would be leaving from.

It wasn't until late the following week Harry heard anything about Draco's mysterious essay. He had backtracked to the dungeons to retrieve a book he'd forgotten in Potions when he overheard Draco talking to someone in the former tutoring classroom. Slipping the Invisibility cloak he'd been hauling around all week out of his bag, he quickly covered himself and stood just outside the doorway.

"You'll do as you're told."

Harry recognized Wormtail's voice, though he had never heard it full of anything resembling confidence. The cold, harsh tones seemed wildly out of place.

"The Dark Lord asked me to get this information, and he's the only one I'll give it to," Draco replied frostily.

"The Dark Lord has no time for a mere boy and his little homework assignment," Wormtail mocked. "You'll give it here and he'll look at it when and if he decides it's worth anything."

Draco was about to protest when Wormtail interrupted him again. "In the meantime, he has another assignment for you."

Harry saw Draco sullenly hand the stack of parchments through the green flames swirling in the fireplace. Did Dumbledore know the Floo network was so easily breeched in Hogwarts? Had Draco somehow found a way around the school's enchantments? No, more likely Voldemort had, or Wormtail was somewhere innocuous enough that Floo powder wasn't a problem. Perhaps he was close.

"What assignment?" Draco asked suspiciously.

"Something rather more... challenging than a mere essay," Wormtail sneered gleefully. "A true test of your loyalties."

What the task was, Harry did not overhear. Either the two now spoke in low tones he was too far away to hear; or more likely, one or the other had used a spell to avoid being overheard. Since Draco had no idea anyone was eavesdropping, the assignment must have been either very important or very dangerous to need extra protection to keep it secret. Silently sliding away, Harry felt his heart drop. He had a bad feeling whatever Draco's new task was, it spelled death.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A cloaked figure entered the dimly lit room. A quick survey revealed the space to be cavernous, the few lit candles casting a meager light into the ongoing gloom. There was only one empty chair, placed across from a wide, imposing desk, behind which sat a figure shrouded in darkness. Though the candles sat close, their light seemed to shy away from the high-backed armchair.

She sat on the rickety chair with an air of mild curiosity.

"I was not expecting..." The voice was almost a hiss, high and cold. Voldemort leaned forward, his almost expressionless face revealing only a vague disappointment.

"You did not request anyone specific. When the offer became available, I took it." Her reply was unemotional and even. She shrugged as though it meant nothing to her.

Sitting back in the shadows, Voldemort paused. "Was the Healer unavailable?"

A slight frown creased her forehead. The closest one to a Healer in their particular circle was her. Unless... "You mean TAG?" she asked. "I suppose. Though for this particular assignment..." She shrugged again. "He's more the large-scale type."

When Voldemort did not reply, she added a bit impatiently, "If you want him, ask."

She made as if to rise, but a bony hand held up stopped her. Voldemort considered. Perhaps in several ways this was better. He sensed the subtle insult of using a Muggle-born witch would not be lost.

"No. You will do."

A raised eyebrow was her only indication of acceptance. "Specifics?"

"An example needs to be made," Voldemort said icily as disappointment in the progress of his plans surged.

"Results are permanent, I assume?" Cold silence was her only reply. "Target?"

"Will be revealed at the time of payment."

A cruel smile twisted her face. "Time frame?" He gave her a date. She rose to leave, the smile turning more sinister. "I'll clear my schedule."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry's wait for a reply to his anxious questions was over the following day. Lupin had sent a letter with Hedwig, along with another of Farrington's matches and instructions to be ready at noon. It was easy enough to find an empty classroom on a Saturday, and so the trio bid him good luck as he left the common room just a few minutes before the Order meeting was due to start.

Just under two hours later, Harry returned. Hermione had wisely spent the time compiling the three separate piles of notes they'd amassed into a coherent composition in the Room of Requirement, while Ron had doodled aimlessly over a sheet of parchment. At first Hermione had frowned, thinking Ron ought to make better use of his time, but seeing the odd shapes his drawings took, decided against confronting him just then. However, months of slow withdrawal from friends and schoolwork could not be ignored any longer. She'd made excuses long enough. When Harry returned, the two of them were going to get to the bottom what happened to Ron at the Ministry almost a year ago. Her resolution was abandoned as soon as Harry returned.

The look on Harry's face said the meeting had not gone well. Ron abandoned his doodles to look up inquiringly. Nervously smoothing the stack of parchments she'd so carefully assembled, Hermione asked, "Bad news?"

With a grim look, Harry replied, "You could say that."

Recounting the meeting did not take long, considering the amount of time Harry had been gone. Draco had indeed given Voldemort information much like the pile in front of Hermione, though the specifics of what it contained were unclear. When Harry asked it their version was ready, Hermione agreed to give it to Professor McGonagall after their next Transfiguration class. The fact she often handed in large stacks of extra assignments regularly would make it easy to conceal the fact it was something far more important. Harry had been told to be especially on guard since it had been confirmed Draco was officially a Death Eater and undoubtedly spying for Voldemort. Harry still didn't understand why Dumbledore had seemed so surprised and saddened by the fact.

"That can't be all," Ron said. "You were gone almost two hours."

Harry thought back to the second half of the meeting. To Harry's surprise, Snape had actually been present and indeed, seemed to have the only new information they'd received in months. Suspicious of its veracity, Harry was skeptical, though the rest of the members showed no doubt that what he told them was true. It was Snape that confirmed Draco's induction as a Death Eater, and in addition, the discord it had caused among some of the other members. Voldemort seemed to show an inordinate interest in the boy; some guessed it was because he had access to Hogwarts, others assumed because he was Lucius' son. Snape seemed to think it was both, though his unemotional report made it hard to tell. In any case, it seemed Draco had been given important tasks other members felt should have gone to more seasoned, loyal followers. What those tasks were, Snape said he didn't know. That was the only thing Harry sensed the others agreed was likely a lie. Snape's other news was even more disturbing.

"The Dark Lord has engaged the services of one of the Angst Lords as well," he informed them.

An uproar exploded through the room at this news, with exclamations of "Which one?" and "For what?" mingled with angry glares shot at Mr. Weasley.

"I knew we never should have gotten them involved," Mrs. Weasley said, her face pale. "Would he even have thought to use them if we hadn't?"

Her query was said to no one specific but it was Snape who replied.

"Perhaps."

Dumbledore leveled his gaze at the Potions Master. "Do you know what Voldemort wanted with them?"

"No."

Harry sensed the same lie as his denying knowledge of Draco's mission, but said nothing. Mr. Weasley was frantically digging though his pockets, obviously searching for something. Finally, he produced the small silver phone Farrington had given him.

Fumbling with the buttons, he finally said, "Aha!" and Harry could see the screen light up as the phone dialed the only Angst Lord they knew how to contact. Harry tried not to get his hopes up, as they had rarely been successful in reaching Farrington. In the numerous tries, however, Mr. Weasley had become far more proficient at using the phone. He managed to set it to speaker so they could all hear.

After three rings a muffled voice said, "Hello?"

"Farrington! Good to hear you, old boy!" Mr. Weasley said brightly.

The voice on the other end sounded less than pleased. "This had better be important."

Mr. Weasley cleared his throat uncertainly. "Is this a bad time?"

"Not for sleeping," Farrington said coldly.

Mr. Weasley grimaced. "The time difference. Sorry about that. Well, we won't keep you; just a quick question is all."

Silence was the only reply. Harry could picture Farrington glaring at the phone for Mr. Weasley to get on with it.

"Well." Mr. Weasley cleared his throat again. "We heard that the He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, that is, Voldemort, has also, um, engaged your services as well," he awkwardly quoted Snape.

The unspoken question hung in the air.

After a moment Farrington's tinny voice replied, "And?"

Looking around helplessly, Mr. Weasley said, "Well, um, are we no longer in negotiations?"

What they really wanted to know was what they were now up against, but Harry had to agree a direct question to that effect was not wise.

An irritated sigh followed by the crunch of springs sounded through the phone. "Word was Voldemort was looking, but I hadn't heard anyone had started a new contract on your side of the pond." A collective sigh of relief flitted through the Order. It didn't mean one of the Angst Lords hadn't been recruited by Voldemort, but it did mean it wasn't Farrington. "In fact, I've got contracts here for your little arrangement."

"Really?" Mr. Weasley said excitedly. They all turned accusingly to Snape.

"All but one," Farrington replied, breaking the sudden tension. "Still haven't heard back from The Lady." He paused. "Maybe she got a better deal."

Mr. Weasley's enthusiasm died. "I see. Should we not expect her help, then?"

"Couldn't say. Lady's got her own agenda. Far be it for me to even attempt to guess what it is. I'll send these over later today." The line went dead.

Hermione and Ron exchanged glances at this news. Ron was the first to speak.

"So what do we do?"

"We continue with our plans," Harry said, quoting Dumbledore. Whatever Voldemort had in store for them, he sensed they'd never be fully prepared. All they could do was forge ahead with their research and hope they found answers before Voldemort did. Whatever happened in the meantime would be dealt with as it came.

Though the days seemed to crawl, the weeks sped by and no one had time to puzzle out the paradoxical feeling. Ginny was mired in notes along with her fellow fifth years and the trio watched anxiously as the shadows under her eyes grew darker. Ron especially, worried for his sister, and thus ignored any and all of Hermione's attempts to discuss his own problems. Harry, while worried for Ginny, felt an additional prick of irritation at the amount of time she spent studying with Julian. Their last Quidditch match was fast approaching and between practice and study groups, Harry hardly ever saw them apart. The awkwardness that still lingered from their kiss seemed to form an impenetrable wall around her that he didn't know how to break down.

In addition, Harry's unease over Draco and his unknown mission for Voldemort caused a few classroom mishaps and not a few extra assignments from McGonagall and Snape alike. Their extra work with McGonagall on Apparating had even been suspended a full week because she was afraid he'd splinch himself beyond salvation. Even Hermione had failed miserably during her first few attempts at Apparation due to lack of focus. After one disastrous double potions class, Persephone had drawn Harry aside when his potion had gone horribly wrong, eating through both this cauldron and the table, causing the remainder of the class to be cancelled. Though she hadn't assigned him extra homework, he could tell she was disappointed with both his potions work and concentration in general. The fact that a week later, the ruined concoction was still working its way through the stone floor was not a helpful reminder of his anxious state.

Finally, after Ginny spent a horrendous week plowing through her OWL exams, she was finally freed of the worry over taking them. Though she still fretted over the results, they all drew a collective sigh of relief they were finally done. Harry was surprised to find how much of his own anxiety had disappeared the evening Ginny had returned, exhausted but mostly satisfied with her performance. With only a few weeks left of school, his concentration and performance improved and he felt as though he breezed through his own end of term exams. They also creamed Hufflepuff in their final match, winning the Cup for yet another year running. The celebratory party quickly lost its excitement for Harry as Ginny pointedly ignored him in favor of Julian's company.

Even with Harry and Ginny's strange behavior toward one another, the generally lighter mood surrounding the foursome gave Hermione the chance to redouble her efforts to find out what was bothering Ron, though he had become even more adept than Harry at deflecting searching questions. Fearing they'd separate for the summer before she could help him, Hermione spent many free hours in the library trying to find out what exactly, had attacked Ron in the Ministry.

During the last week of school Harry and the others felt an odd sort of relief, as if they'd passed some invisible marker, though they knew the road ahead would be long and treacherous. Harry expected another Order meeting before they were let out for the summer, since they had not found Dunn's friend, or finished their research on the Book and its contents, nor did he imagine Voldemort planned on taking the summer off. They would have to devise a strategy for Hermione and Ron over the holiday so they wouldn't lose ground. He also sensed that having something to work toward, even if it played only a small role in their war against Voldemort, gave him and his friends hope. It also kept them focused. It was too easy in the lazy summer days between school years to forget.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a pleasant enough evening; the sun had just set and a cool breeze blew gently past him into the forest. Waiting just outside the protective enchantments surrounding the temporary headquarters the Dark Lord had arranged, Lucius Malfoy scanned the tree line impatiently. Though he appreciated that the assignment (and in light of the Dark Lord's recent attitude toward him, any assignment) had been given to him, delivering payment to a newly hired associate was hardly what he'd been hoping for. Still, as he'd supplied the rather large sum, he hoped to find out what it might be funding. It grated he'd not been told, especially when the Dark Lord had so often informed Lucius of his plans in the past. Consoling himself with the knowledge no one else seemed to know either, he shifted irritably, wondering what had caused his master to employ the one Angst Lord he saw as the least favorable. He supposed it mattered not, they had put a serious crimp in the Order's plans, Lucius was sure.

A figure suddenly appeared next to him, making him jump inelegantly. Her soundless arrival unnerved him. He covered his unease by saying, "You're late."

"Am I?" Arella replied idly.

Scowling, Lucius regarded the Angst Lord with contempt. She was small- quite short, really, though not as slender as he'd expected. Nondescript blondish-brown hair, though her face was passably pretty. Hardly threatening. What use had Voldemort for her?

She held out a hand. "Payment?"

Ready to pull out his wand should she do anything stupid, Lucius handed her a flat leather box containing numerous rolls of Galleons. She seemed surprised at its weight. Eying him suspiciously, she opened it, frowning at its contents.

Expression closed, he asked, "Is there a problem?"

Her face went neutral as she shifted the box under her arm. "Not at all."

"You are to review your strategy with me before continuing," he bluffed, hoping to find out what her purpose was.

She moved almost imperceptibly. Lucius felt a sharp sting in his leg and, looking down, saw a small puff of feathers sticking out of his thigh.

"Of course," she replied. "You'll be the first to know."

He didn't manage a response before he collapsed to the ground and everything went black.

"Galleons, I should have known." Sighing, Arella carelessly dropped the heavy box on top of the Death Eater's crumpled form, searching for the Portkey in her pocket. Finding it she muttered, "I hate going to the bank."

The ceiling of a room swam into view. It was blindingly bright. Lucius blinked rapidly to clear his vision. That Mudblood American witch had betrayed them! Attempting to scan the room for his wand or a weapon of any sort, Lucius found he couldn't move at all. In fact, the only movement he seemed capable of was blinking. She'd put him in the Full Body-Bind, then? Rage coursed through him. When it wore off she would know what it meant to take on a Death Eater.

He saw a blur of white out of the corner of his eye. So she was there. Fury almost lent him the will to break whatever enchantments she had used to bind him.

"Awake are we?" she purred. "Wonderful. I was hoping it wouldn't take long so we can get started."

"The Dark Lord will see you ended for this!" Lucius hissed, surprised he'd managed to speak at all. The Angst Lord watched, bemused, as he realized he could suddenly move his head.

Looking around the room, he saw it was very small, almost closet-like. There wasn't much to see in the rectangular space- dull grey cinderblock walls, an overly bright bare bulb in the ceiling, one door to his left, and of course whatever he was lying on, covered by a light blue sheet. A wheeled metal table in the corner held the only interesting items, though he couldn't tell exactly what they were. Fear bubbled under his anger when the light glinted menacingly off several sharp edges and he realized he was naked under the sheet.

As she turned away to finish fiddling with whatever was on the wheeled cart, he growled, "I will be missed. The Dark Lord knows when the exchange was to be. I don't imagine he'll retain your services. It is also unlikely you'll retain your life."

She glanced over her shoulder, rolled her eyes, and went back to what she was doing. When she heard him shifting around, she called over he shoulder, "Don't bother, you'll never get out of it."

Craning his neck around uncomfortably, Lucius could see his hands bound, palm up, by wide leather straps. They seemed simple enough. A tingling had started in his fingers and toes. Once the Body-Bind wore off, he'd make her lose that irritating cocky casualness.

Spinning around on her wheeled stool to face him, Arella smiled and pulled the metal cart alongside the table. "I know what you're thinking- those straps aren't going to hold you." She picked up a syringe and examined its contents, then put it back down. "Normally, I'd agree- a determined person would eventually get out, and you do seem the determined type." A feral smile crossed her face. "However, the binding spells I used to secure you to the table would hold you there quite nicely without them. The straps are mostly for show." She serenely watched him silently seethe for a moment. "Don't worry about my having to re-cast them, either. I went old-school just for you."

The last of the Body-Bind vanished and it was as if a healing spell had suddenly been revoked. Lucius' back felt as if it had burst into flames. Pain raced down his arms and legs like rivers of white-hot fire. He clenched his teeth against a scream, not wanting to give her the satisfaction.

"I see you're feeling the runes I cut." Arella smiled. "No one ever uses the old binds anymore. It's too bad. Nothing's better for making someone stay put like a good dose of runes, blood, and salt. Plus you get far fewer interactions with other things you might be using." She held up a glass vial and gave it a tiny shake.

There was only one reason he could imagine for his situation. "How surprising the Order is finally willing to resort to torture. Is that why they hired you? No one else had the guts?" he spat. "Whatever they want, you'll never get."

Looking mildly surprised, she asked, "Order?" Thinking a moment, she finally said, "Oh, that!" She laughed, looking almost sheepish. "I was supposed to send that contract in forever ago. Oops. Well, I'll do it when we're done here."

Lucius' rage suddenly gave way to panic. "You're not working for Dumbledore?"

"Not yet." She saw the look on his face change and her smile turned mocking. "Oh honey. Finally figuring it out, are we?"

Cold dread almost cooled the burning runes carved into his flesh. Fear sent his mind into overdrive. An idea sprung up; Angst Lords were known for switching allegiance to the highest bidder. "I'll pay you."

With every passing second he hated her smile more. Her eyes flicked to the case. "You already did."

"I'll pay you more," he said with a calmness he didn't feel. If Voldemort had in fact, had him pay for his own execution, he knew he was going to be made a very severe example of what happened to failure.

He could see her mind working. Slowly, she made eye contact with him, and he realized it was the first time she'd actually looked at him directly. It was odd she never met his eyes while speaking to him.

"You have very pretty eyes," she said, tipping her head to one side, looking wistful. "I always wanted blue eyes."

He noticed hers were a muddy sort of greenish brown. Odd, since though they were mostly green, they matched her hair color almost perfectly. For the first time, he sensed the cruel brilliance behind them as she murmured, "More, eh? I like more."

Tapping her lip for a minute, she seemed to have an idea. Digging a phone out of her pocket, she said, "Excuse me just one moment."

Lucius wondered at the device she was talking into and glowered at the blatant use of Muggle garbage in his presence. He quickly concealed his feelings, not wanting to draw attention to himself. If she did let him go, he'd be sure to teach her a lesson before he disappeared.

Standing, she paced a few feet back and forth. "Grim? Hey. I was wondering if you could do me a favor." She paused. "Yeah, I have it signed; I just forgot to send it to you. What?" She glanced over at Lucius. "Actually, that's what I'm calling about. It's going quite nicely, actually, just getting started. But here's the thing- he suggested I should be getting more than the usual fee. I know! Brilliant, right? Gave me a fantastic idea, too. So I wanted to know if you still knew a buyer for parts."

She paused and covered the bottom of the phone. Looking over at Lucius she whispered, "He's checking."

A sort of calm settled over him. He'd have to run of course, and with any luck, get Draco and Narcissa out as well... a plan formed.

She seemed to be wrapping up. "Okay, so whatever I can get clean they'll take? Awesome. I'll give you ten percent." She paused, ostensibly at his counter offer. "Fifteen and a case of root beer. Yes, the good stuff. Done. Thanks so much." Nodding, she gave Lucius a thumbs-up then turned back to the phone. "Wanna watch?"

Lucius felt a sliver of fear spike through his heart.

"Next time, maybe. Thanks again, bye!" Turning back to Lucius, she sat back on the stool and glided over. "So, thanks for the suggestion. I think I will be able to get quite a bit more from this little interlude."

She rearranged a few things on the rolling cart. "That does change my plan a bit, but don't worry-" She slapped his cheek sharply. "-your boss will still get what he paid for."

"What-"

"Sshhh!" She covered his mouth with her hand.

Picking up the syringe he'd seen earlier, Arella said, "I swear I'm going to use this one day, but..." She put the syringe down. "You gave me a far better idea. Good thing I always come prepared."

She put on a cotton half-face mask, looping it behind her ears. Next, she pulled on a pair of gloves, snapping one at the wrist. From a bag he hadn't seen under the table, she withdrew a small silver container. Opening it, Arella withdrew a set of wicked-looking instruments. There was a small 'pop' noise that caught both their attention and Lucius could move just enough to see a small rectangular container had appeared in the corner of the room. Rising, Arella strode over to get it. Sliding the lid off, she peered inside, then quickly closed it again.

"What's that?" Lucius asked, almost involuntarily.

She seemed surprised to hear him speak. "Ice." At his blank look, she added, "To keep the tissue fresh."

His horrified expression did nothing to affect her. "Do you have any idea what healthy organs go for on the black market these days?" She glanced down at him as if she actually expected a reply. "No? Well, to be honest, neither do I, but Grim will get me a good price. I wish I could harvest everything, but, you know how it goes, your boss paid first."

Arranging her instruments, she hummed tunelessly. Raising her stool a bit, she looked down into his face, lifting an eyelid. "All right, the eyes first, I think. Then at least one kidney and a lung, and if I'm quick enough, I can grab the heart and some veins. Might be able to grab the other kidney and lung after that, but we want to keep you alive as long as possible." He could sense that horrible smile from behind the mask. "Then we can have some real fun."

She was talking as if he were no longer there. Lucius made one last attempt. "I'll give you anything you want."

Arella stopped. What expression he could see was oddly almost benign. "Honey, you already are."

Picking up the syringe, she tapped out a few air bubbles. Unable to move away, Lucius ground his teeth against the pain of the needle piercing the skin of his neck. As the cold liquid surged into him, she said conversationally, "Now, some people enjoy all the begging and screaming and whatnot, but personally, I find it rather distracting."

A horrible numbness filled his throat. "Please don't," he pleaded, managing only a soft whisper.

Placing the syringe back on the tray, she turned back, leaned close, and asked, just as softly, "How many people asked you the same thing?"

Arella picked up a scalpel. As the numbness spread, Lucius knew if he tried, he would no longer be able to talk. Or scream.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few days before the end-of-term feast, the trio was enjoying a pleasant dinner, though Harry kept throwing glances in the direction of Ginny and her fifth year friends. Ron and Hermione still didn't know what had happened between them, and Hermione's persistence at discovering Ron's secret usually kept them from dwelling on it. She had given up trying to subtly bring Ron around to the subject of the brain-things for the evening. She'd been rather impressed with herself this time, however, using a rather clever discussion about Occlumency and the mind to bring the subject up. Still, Ron hadn't taken the bait and she contemplated what she ought to try next over her cherry cobbler. In the meantime, Ron did seem to have his appetite back and she smiled to herself as he took a fourth helping of trifle.

Their dessert was interrupted by the sharp snap of footsteps on the stone floor. The dining hall was not very full, allowing the sound to echo almost menacingly. Turning in unison, the trio saw Snape striding purposefully toward the Slytherin table where Draco and his cronies were making sloppy messes on their plates and the table for the house-elves below to clean up.

Snape leaned over to say something quietly to Draco and Harry immediately wondered if it was about his mysterious Death Eater assignment. He had little time to ponder as Draco sprang up from his seat, a look of murderous rage mingled with stark fear on his face.

"LIAR!"

What followed next was a stream of diverse curses, both verbal and spell, though Draco's unbounded fury made them practically unintelligible. Snape quickly grabbed Draco's arm and tried to steer the struggling Slytherin toward the Great Hall and presumably down to his office. His expression was oddly blank as he guided Malfoy out of the dining hall, still spewing curses and repeatedly calling Snape a liar. The few students left in the hall watched in curious silence.

"What on earth was that all about?" Hermione blinked as if to clear her vision of a hallucination.

Ron shrugged. "Maybe Snape told him he didn't pass Potions this year." He chuckled to himself.

Hermione frowned, but resisted the urge to remind Ron that not only was Draco a far better student than he at Potions, but Persephone would more likely have been the one to tell Draco something like that. And certainly not in public. Her glance at Harry told her he was thinking the same thing, knowing something far worse must have happened.

They found out just what the next morning. Hedwig had arrived with a letter for Harry, the short note and match he'd come to expect as an invitation to the next Order meeting. A barn owl had landed in front of Hermione with the Daily Prophet. Her spoon landed with a clatter, splashing cereal all over the table. Hermione didn't seem to notice the milk speckled on the paper as she read the front page, openmouthed.

Harry's stomach dropped. "What is it?"

Unable to speak, she laid the paper down so he and Ron could see the front page. As usual, a large moving picture occupied most of the space. Harry could see what looked to be a vast expanse of lawn with a massive house in the background. What had disturbed Hermione was the movement in the forefront of the picture. Just before a hand clamped over the camera lens and blocked the entire scene, he could see several wizards throwing a large sheet over something tied to what looked like an upright log staked in the ground. After a few more cycles, Harry realized there was a person tied to the stake.

Fearing the worst, Harry read the story. Shock ran through him. He'd been sure it was Voldemort's doing, and he supposed it must have been. This time, however, it was not one of the Order, or someone who had been fighting against him.

"Malfoy's dad is dead?" Ron said in astonishment, reading over Harry's shoulder.

Hermione paled, further ahead in the print than the boys. "They found him....and he was missing...oh my." She looked nauseous. "How could they have printed something so graphic?" Her eyes flicked back to the moving photo. "And a picture? Have they no decency?"

Ron snorted, "You say that as if Lucius Malfoy ever showed any. Or deserves any."

Considering what they knew of Death Eaters, she had to agree somewhat. Still, looking back at the picture, she swallowed. Did anyone deserve such a sadistically violent end? It didn't seem to matter which side you were on, Voldemort's wrath was universal. But what had Lucius Malfoy done to deserve such a ghastly death? And why had Voldemort sacrificed one of his most powerful and connected followers?

Unaware she had murmured the questions aloud; Harry held up the Portkey match and replied, "I plan to ask."

Harry returned from the Order meeting, not sure if it had helped or made things worse. He'd filled in Ron and Hermione, and even Ginny had joined them. Any awkwardness between them was overshadowed by the bizarre and disturbing events of the last few days. Voldemort's actions seemed to disturb Dumbledore greatly, and the Order voiced their concern over the direction Voldemort's plan (or as Tonks suggested, utter lack thereof) was taking. How could they defend against someone who seemed to be becoming more and more unbalanced? For once, Dumbledore did not seem to have any reassuring answers, though he did seem somewhat confident that Voldemort was not coming unhinged, or at least no more than he had years before. Voldemort had a definite plan, he was sure; they were just underestimating what he was willing to sacrifice to achieve victory.

Snape had not been present, and while Harry wanted to be suspicious, admitted it made sense he was likely with Draco and his mother. Still, a small part of him wondered if it was Snape who had moved up in ranks to Lucius' now vacant spot. A message arrived from him, just as the meeting was breaking up. A slip of parchment appeared in the air in front of Dumbledore with a small 'pop' and Harry could see a match affixed to the upper corner. Though Dumbledore did not show the contents to anyone, Harry, who had been passing behind the chair, managed a quick glance at the parchment before it burst into flames. The message was short.

'Replacement as suspected. Funds tied up. Suggested alternate means.'

He couldn't be sure what it meant, but Harry had a fairly good idea. Another message arrived just like Snape's note, though this time, directly in front of Arthur Weasley. To everyone's surprise, it seemed to be the final Angst Lord's contract. Farrington had attached a sticky note to the front of the ordinary-looking file folder, which Mr. Weasley read aloud, "Other contract is complete." He shrugged and looked around. "I guess she's working for us now."

Mrs. Weasley was not the only one who looked less than reassured.

As the others filed out, looking grim, Dumbledore held a hand up to stop Harry. "I'd like a word, if you don't mind."

Curious, Harry sat back at the table, nodding farewells to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley as they headed up the stairs.

"So ends another eventful school year," Dumbledore began. There was a twinkle in his blue eyes, but for the first time, Harry thought the Headmaster looked old.

Not knowing what to say, Harry only nodded. He traced the nicks in the table with a finger, as Dumbledore seemed to consider how to begin. Harry's thoughts turned to Draco's father. For some reason, the fact Voldemort had gotten rid of someone so close and powerful made them all very uneasy.

"Do you think Voldemort still has a plan?" he asked suddenly.

Dumbledore replied immediately, "I'm sure of it."

"It just seems..." Harry paused. "It's strange, don't you think? Like he's just killing everyone. Like nothing matters anymore. Before at least we knew what he wanted, sort of, but now..."

"Only Voldemort himself knows if he is still working toward the same end as when he began," Dumbledore said. Tenting his fingers, he mused aloud, "Is his plan still to rule everything, or now is it to simply destroy everything?"

There was no way for them to know. Had the search for the Book of Shadows somehow driven Voldemort even madder? Had he discovered, as Harry and his friends had, that even the fabled Book did not offer true Immortality? Perhaps Voldemort had decided the only way to conquer death was to be its agent. Destroying someone as powerful as Lucius Malfoy certainly must have given him some sense he could master death.

"What will happen to Draco?" Harry asked. He found it difficult to summon any sympathy; Draco had chosen his path long ago. Still, he sensed Draco had not thought through the consequences of his choice.

Infinite sadness filled Dumbledore's eyes. "He has been given his father's place at Voldemort's side."

"But Malfoy doesn't know anything about being a Death Eater!" Harry stopped, finally comprehending what Dumbledore had been telling him all these years. For all he was an arrogant git and certainly enjoyed making life unpleasant for him and his friends, Harry never had the sense Draco was capable of true cruelty. At least, not the kind the Death Eaters were known for. "He's not like his dad."

An empty smile crossed Dumbledore's face. "I see you finally understand, Harry." He sighed heavily. "I imagine that is why his mother has created so much trouble with the transfer of Draco's inheritance. She's trying to protect him for as long as possible. Without full control of all of Lucius' assets..." Harry sensed Dumbledore was referring to more than just the family money. "...Draco is useless to Voldemort."

"How long will it take before he gets everything?" Harry asked.

"Voldemort has people everywhere. Whatever legal nonsense Narcissa put in his way will taken care of very quickly. I fear she may have chosen to sacrifice many innocent people in her desperation to save her son."

"What are you going to do?" Harry asked.

"I fear there is little we can do," Dumbledore replied sadly.

Like his awareness of Dumbledore's age, Harry had a sudden realization that Dumbledore was not the omniscient solution to every problem he had always imagined him to be. It was a truly terrifying thought. In his naiveté, Harry had always had Dumbledore in the back of his mind as the answer to everything: problems at school, problems with the Dursleys, the war with Voldemort. The prophecy unexpectedly loomed crystal clear in Harry's mind. Harry suddenly realized Dumbledore couldn't save him, either.

Abruptly, Dumbledore changed the subject. "Did you plan on returning to your family this summer?"

Taken aback, Harry replied, "I thought I had to."

"This summer you will reach your majority, Harry," Dumbledore explained seriously. "When you turn seventeen, the spells I placed to protect you and your family will no longer matter."

As much as he disliked the Dursleys, the thought of anything like what had happened to Lucius Malfoy happening to them was sickening. "So what do we do?"

"Mr. Weasley is working on a plan to move both your family and Hermione's parents. I fear your aunt and uncle will not be amenable. It may take some convincing," Dumbledore said.

"Maybe you should just show them the Prophet article about Lucius Malfoy," Harry muttered darkly. The photo on the front page hadn't shown the true horror of what had been done to him, though the text itself had. Though missing most of his internal organs (which the article surmised had been removed while he was still alive), what had been most disturbing was the fact a rubber snake had been threaded through Lucius' empty eye sockets and enchanted to glide in a repeating pattern in a grisly mockery of the Death Eater tattoo. It didn't bear contemplating what Narcissa had felt when she'd discovered her husband's desecrated body displayed on her front lawn.

"I think your aunt will be able to convince your uncle and cousin of the gravity of the situation." Dumbledore folded his hands. "I assume you will be residing here, then?"

Harry looked around the kitchen of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. He still half-expected Sirius to walk thought he door at any second. A lump formed in his throat. Would he ever be able to really live in the old house? Christmas had gone better than he'd thought. Maybe a summer spent sorting through Sirius' old things was exactly what he needed. Besides, the house was safe- one of the few places that was. Perhaps the Weasleys and Hermione could stay there with him. He said as much to Dumbledore, who agreed it was not a bad idea.

As Harry thought about Ron and Hermione, it reminded him of the aftermath of the night at the Ministry. Hermione had not been able to pry anything out of Ron. He decided to try another angle. "Sir, did Ron ever tell you about what happened to him at the Ministry last year? About the brain things?"

Dumbledore shook his head, looking concerned. "Brain things?"

Harry tried to recount exactly what had happened, but a year's worth of time and new problems made it difficult to recall the details exactly.

"There are many unusual things contained in the Department of Mysteries, Harry," Dumbledore began. "I am not familiar with what you've described, but an attack like the one you say happened to Ron can have very serious consequences, indeed. I will make some inquiries."

Though he was glad Dumbledore was going to help, Harry couldn't help but feel like he had somehow betrayed Ron's confidence. He shook the feeling off, Ron needed help and he was going to get it whether he liked it or not. He gave a mental laugh, realizing this was probably how Hermione and Ron had felt about him all year. Ginny, too. He frowned. That was, until he had ruined things with her.

"Something else, Harry?" Dumbledore inquired.

Realizing Dumbledore was still there, Harry flushed. "No, it's not-" Fiddling with a crumb on the table, Harry took a breath. This was something he might have talked about with Sirius.

"I thought Ginny and I," he blurted out. Blushing furiously, he stopped, realizing how ridiculous it was, especially in light of everything they'd just discussed. He shrugged as if it meant nothing. "She's been dating Julian anyway. The other Gryffindor Beater," he added, sure Dumbledore didn't know who he was talking about.

To Harry's surprise, Dumbledore smiled. "I doubt that, Harry."

Confused, Harry asked, "Why do you say that?"

"Because Mr. Gosse is seeing someone else," Dumbledore replied serenely.

Somehow Harry knew Dumbledore wouldn't tell him more, though Harry burned with curiosity as to why Dumbledore would know anything about the situation in the first place. "Then why does she hang around him so much?"

"Perhaps for the same reason you enjoy Miss Granger's company," Dumbledore said cryptically.

"But Hermione's just a friend," Harry protested.

Dumbledore sat up with an air of finality. "If that's all, Harry, I believe the next meeting will be after Arthur finalizes the plans for your and Miss Granger's families. She will be invited, of course."

Harry rose, taking the Portkey Dumbledore handed him. "Of course," he repeated absently.

Sitting in the Gryffindor common room, Harry decided the end-of-term feast would likely be decidedly awkward. Even among the Gryffindors, there was little of the usual chatter and excitement associated with leaving for the summer. Not surprising, since news of Lucius Malfoy's death had spread like wildfire. Draco had, of course, already left school, which only allowed the rumors to fly faster, farther, louder, and more outrageously, though the truth was horrific enough. For the first time, Harry wished the school year would end.

Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ginny curled up next to Julian, laughing at something he'd said. They'd been together an awful lot since the studying marathons before OWLS. Harry had hoped once Quidditch and the exams were over, she'd spend less time with her fellow Beater, but had so far been severely disappointed. Dumbledore had said they were just friends, but it still looked like more than that to Harry. He certainly never cozied up to Hermione that way.

Ron followed his gaze and said, "I don't know about that, mate."

Harry shrugged as if he didn't care. "You didn't like her and Dean, either."

"Not that it's any of your business," Hermione's voice piped up from behind a copy of the Quibbler, "but they're not dating."

"How do you know?" Ron asked. He frowned at the couple. "They look pretty cozy to me."

Sighing, Hermione put the paper down. She leaned in close. "I'm pretty sure he's seeing Taylor Welles."

"Ginny's dating Taylor?" Harry exclaimed. This was an unexpected turn.

"I said 'he' not 'she'," Hermione replied, wishing she hadn't said anything at all.

"'He as in Julian? Wait, seeing as in as in like, dating?" Ron did a double-take. "But they're both-"

Hermione shushed him. "Boys. Yes. And I don't think they want anyone announcing it, so shut up about it."

Harry and Ron exchanged a look. Harry was stunned. "Julian likes guys?"

Looking over at his sister, Ron said, "Maybe we should let Ginny know."

"I'm pretty sure she already does," Hermione replied mildly, picking The Quibbler back up.

"Then why is she always hanging out with him?" Ron asked, bewildered.

"I don't know, because he's nice?" Hermione suggested, exasperated. "They can be just friends, you know. Why do you always hang around me?"

Ron opened his mouth to retort, but quickly shut it. Hermione disappeared behind the paper again. Glancing back and forth between Hermione and his sister, Ron's expression only became more confused. Harry stifled a laugh, immensely relieved Dumbledore had been right, though still bewildered as to how he'd known in the first place.

His spirits were considerably higher as they headed down to the end-of-term feast. The Gryffindors exited the tower en masse, and while Harry wasn't actively following Ginny, he found himself right behind her and Julian. Trying not to seem overly interested in what they were talking about, he accidentally collided with her when she suddenly stopped in front of one of the windows overlooking the lake.

"Sorry!" Harry exclaimed, stepping back up a stair. When she barely acknowledged him, his heart sank a bit. He peered over her shoulder, trying to see what had caught her attention, hoping it was something really interesting and not just an excuse to ignore him.

Julian noticed and backed up a step to see out as well. "What is it?"

Ron and Hermione, who had been right behind them, stopped since Harry and Ginny were now blocking the way.

"What's everyone looking at?" Hermione peered over Ginny's other shoulder.

"Come on, I'm starved!" Ron crowded close to Hermione. "What's so fascinating out there?"

A mass of Gryffindors were now backed up on the stairs.

"What's the hold up?"

"What's everyone looking at?"

Ron had finally managed to catch sight of what Ginny had seen. "Oh ew, who wants to see that?"

"See what?"

Though not speaking to Harry very often, Ginny was still friends with Hermione and chatted with her often in the evenings. Harry and Ron had overheard a few conversations they'd had discussing the amount of time Persephone and Snape spent together. Hermione was convinced it was spent discussing potions and such since Persephone had taken over his classes, whereas Ginny was sure it was something far more exciting and romantic. Ron gagged and told her she read too many novels. Harry had no opinion since he refused to think about it, as even the vaguest thought of Snape romantically involved with anyone made him ill.

The figures stopped walking along the lakeside and Ginny let out an excited little gasp. Hermione looked surprised. "Oh, Ginny, I think you were right!"

Looking between her and Hermione, who looked just as enthralled, Harry asked, "What?"

"I think he's going to propose!" Ginny said breathlessly. The figures beside the lake had stopped walking and were facing each other.

"He who?" a voice from up the stairs asked.

Several students crowded behind Harry and Ron to get a better look.

"Professor Snape!" Hermione said, sounding almost as excited as Ginny.

"Propose what?"

"Marriage, I imagine," Hermione said in an exasperated tone, somehow managing to roll her eyes without looking away from the window.

"To who?" an incredulous voice asked.

"Persephone," Ron replied, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Miss Hade? The new Potions teacher?"

"You're joking!"

"He's lost his mind!"

"Did he Imperius Curse her first?"

Harry didn't really want to watch, but it was impossible to look away, like passing the scene of a horrible accident. Gryffindors packed around the narrow transoms to get a better look. To everyone's surprise, the taller figure knelt down, eliciting high-pitched squeals of delight from every Gryffindor female able to see out the tower windows. At Persephone's enthusiastic reaction, Lavender, who had managed to wedge in between Julian and Ginny, let out a little shriek of joy. Ron cringed and turned away, giving Parvati an opportunity to slide into his place by the window.

"I think she said yes!" Ginny exclaimed, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. The male Gryffindors behind her were less enthralled.

"She's lost her mind!"

"There had to be some kind of Confounding Potion involved."

Hermione and Ginny both had tears in their eyes as it became difficult to distinguish one figure from the other. Hermione turned to Harry. "Don't they look so happy?"

Harry tried to smile but realized he probably looked as nauseated as Ron.

"All right, show's over, let's move on." Lee Jordan pushed past the large crowd that had gathered. "I know we're all feeling..." He caught Hermione's warning look. "Feeling something anyway. Might be hunger. Let's go to dinner!"

Leaving the window, Hermione and Ginny lead the way down the stairs bearing identical goofy grins, mirrored by Lavender, Parvati, and most of the Gryffindor girls who had witnessed the disturbing scene out the window. Harry and Ron followed, shaking their heads in unison, wondering why so many students who claimed to hate Snape were so happy for him. Exchanging a look with Lee, they all silently shrugged, obviously thinking the same thing: Girls. Go figure.

Lee slapped Harry and Ron on the shoulders and smiled. "Well, look at it this way, if he can get someone like her, then there's definitely hope for the rest of us."

Ron looked hopeful. "And maybe he'll finally stop trying to hex us to death in class."

To Harry, the end-of-term feast felt surprisingly normal. No announcements aside from the Quidditch and House cups were made. Gryffindor cheered wildly at another successful year, and Slytherin's boos of outrage were as loud as they always were. Aside from a few curious glances toward the Slytherin table, where Malfoy was glaringly absent, there was little talk of what had happened. Hermione supposed that most people didn't care strongly one way or the other, and those who had reason to knew better than to announce their feelings either way. Instead, conversation involved the much more noticeable absence of two professors. Those in other Houses who hadn't seen anything out of tower windows speculated idly, while too many doe-eyed Gryffindor girls sighed and squeaked in excited little conversations. When it seemed Ginny and Hermione were about to join in, Harry quickly turned the subject to the summer and their plans for what was to come.

The dreamy look disappeared from both Ginny and Hermione's faces. Ron and Ginny knew the Burrow had been covered by every protective spell Dumbledore could think of since it first became clear Ron and Harry were friends. Hermione's family, being Muggles, had until recently, been protected enough by virtue of their non-wizarding nature. It was clear greater defense was needed after Draco had gone after them at Christmas. Since then, Harry was sure Dumbledore had done something to shield them, though he was sure it wouldn't be enough. He also had a feeling now they were almost all of age, they would finally be allowed to officially join the Order. Whether Mrs. Weasley liked it or not, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had been involved from the beginning and they deserved to know everything. Ignorance was not going to keep anyone safe.

Lost in their own thoughts, they all ate dessert quietly, wondering what the future held.

The next day, Harry sat in the all but empty train compartment, staring impassively out the window. Ron and Hermione were off doing last minute prefect things like making sure the first years hadn't left anything major behind like a wand or a pet. He hadn't seen Ginny since after the feast, and though he caught a glimpse of her disappearing into another compartment with Julian when they'd boarded. Alone, anxious, and bored, Harry frowned at the faint reflection of himself in the pane.

Turning away from the window, he jumped back and whacked his head against the cold glass when a familiar pair of tennis-ball eyes appeared mere inches away from his face.

Rubbing the back of his head, Harry breathed out. "Dobby! You have got to stop doing that!" He paused. "Wait, I thought-"

Dobby looked upset and wrung his spindly hands together. "Yes, Dobby was not to speak to Harry Potter," Dobby began. He sniffed and looked like he was about to cry. "Or his friends."

"Then what are you doing here?" Harry asked. He was sort of used to the strange little house-elf's ways by now, but it rarely heralded anything good. Oddly, this time Dobby did not seem to be resisting the urge to punish himself.

"Dobby's punishment is...is over!" Dobby burst into tears.

Confused, Harry stared at the elf. "You don't seem very happy about it."

The train whistle sounded, announcing the final boarding call. Dobby looked up, alarmed. "Dobby must be off the train before it goes. But Dobby wanted to say goodbye, to explain to Harry Potter, make sure he knew..."

Harry thought he ought to hurry up then and it must have shown in his expression, because Dobby rushed on, "Dobby wants Harry Potter to know Miss Persephone is a good witch, no matter what people say." He stared at Harry so fiercely it was unsettling.

"I never said she wasn't," Harry said, eyebrows raised.

"But you may think otherwise soon..." Dobby trailed off, then began again with conviction, "But Miss Persephone is a good witch. She spared Dobby when all laws said Dobby must be put to death. She even let Dobby keep his job-" He broke off on a sob. "And now even the other punishment is over!"

Knowing time was running out, Harry said, "I have no idea what you're talking about. The train's about to leave."

Wiping at his nose, Dobby seemed to gather himself. "Dobby tried to help Harry Potter during the wand game. He tried to use a Veritserum potion to get Miss Persephone to tell Harry Potter how to win." Here Dobby paused and cringed, knowing his idol would be very disappointed that Dobby had broken so very many laws in that one action.

Struggling to figure out what the house-elf was talking about, Harry thought back to the House Assassin game, the only 'wand game' he could think of. Suddenly he remembered. "You mean when I got my wand fixed?"

"Yes!" Dobby looked pleased, then miserable again. "Dobby saw the vials and poured Harry Potter's best friend's potion in Miss Persephone's coffee, thinking she would tell Harry Potter how to win."

Harry shook his head, thinking Ron would be less than thrilled to know his potion had nearly killed someone. Hermione even less so.

His ears drooping sadly, Dobby went on, "But Dobby did not know Miss Persephone was allergic to Ichneumon. Dobby should have been put to death for harming his mistress, but Miss Persephone was kind, too kind..." Tears welled up again and he sniffed hugely before going on, "But she did punish Dobby most severely. Not being able to talk to Harry Potter or his friends, not to be able to help or even just check on the greatest, most wonderful, most important, best-"

Dobby broke down again, and Harry awkwardly patted his tiny shoulder. "Erm, I'm not that great, really."

Inconsolable wails were his only reply. The train whistle sounded again and Dobby sniffed and wiped his nose on the edge of his sleeve. "But now Miss Persephone says the punishment is over, that it was only until the end of the school year." He blinked his watery eyes up at Harry and grinned widely. "So Dobby has come to say goodbye and that he will most definitely be waiting to say hello to Harry Potter when he returns to Hogwarts."

Suddenly, the train lurched into motion. With a 'pop' Dobby was gone. Harry shook his head, as always left a bit bewildered by a conversation with the odd little house-elf.

There was no time to brood over the bizarre exchange as the compartment door slid open, admitting a quarreling Ron and Hermione, followed by Neville. Not entirely surprised to see him, he and Harry exchanged a grim look. Ron and Hermione stopped arguing and sat next to each other, across from Harry. As Neville took a seat next to him, Harry knew once the door slid shut again, there would be earnest talk over the Order, the Malfoys, and what lay in store for all of them. Harry took one last look out the window to see Hogwarts rapidly fading into the distance and felt a strange sadness overcome him. Though he had a year left at the school, he somehow knew Hogwarts would never be the same.