Harry Potter and the Daoimear de Dán

Chapter Ten- I'm In The Mood For Dancing

Saturday dawned bright and early, and on hearing the first girlish giggles from her roommates, Hermione groaned and headed for the library. She had found healing magic to be a great deal more complicated than other forms, and it was much more important to get right than if she were enlarging pumpkins. She was glad for today, she told herself. Most people had gone off to Hogsmeade in preparation for the dance and the library was nearly deserted. Armed with a note signed by both Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall, Hermione was allowed to roam free in the Restricted Section. After seven years, Madam Pince had got to know Hermione and trusted her well enough to be in there on her own. She was glad of the solitude, although it also left her with the space to think about Harry and what he might be doing now.

***

Eight o'clock sped towards them with quite unusual rapidity. The girls of Hogwarts primped and preened while the boys dug out their dress robes and attempted to tame cowlicks. Ron was actually quite pleased with the way his blue Order robes looked, while Harry chose to wear the green robes Mrs Weasley had sent him in the Fourth year. They'd needed to be lengthened and adjusted several times since then, but he still loved them.

"Ready Harry?" asked Ron.

"Nearly," he said, smacking down his hair one last time. He sighed. "Yes. Who are you taking?"

"Oh, Lavender."

"Not Padma?" Harry asked with the shadow of a smile.

"No. She's been going out with some other Ravenclaw for months now. Besides, I don't think she was too impressed with me at the Yule Ball."

"What about Parvati, then?" asked Harry, trying valiantly to take an interest in the evening.

"Some Hufflepuff."

"Dean?"

"Blaise Zabini."

"Really?" Harry asked, both surprised and a little impressed. Perhaps there was hope for Gryffindor-Slytherin relations after all.

"Yes. Seamus is taking Ginny, of course."

"And how does Big Brother feel about that?"

"Fine, thank you. I'll save my over-protective routine for another night."

"She threatened you with bodily harm?"

"Earlier, yeah." Ron then grinned wickedly. "She didn't ask Fred or George though. Or Bill or Charlie or Percy."

Ron picked up the flowers he'd purchased for Lavender in Hogsmeade and opened the door to the boys' dorm.

"Come on then, Harry."

"Fine."

They headed down to the common room. Lavender smiled up at him, looking pretty in pastel pink robes. Maura was also in the common room, not wearing robes but a smart pinstripe suit. Her hair was actually wavier than usual, while several small plaits had been woven into her hair here and there. She looked quite striking as always.

"I had to borrow this off Anne Marie," she explained. "I don't have anything fancy."

"You look really nice," he managed to say.

"Thanks. All Anne Marie's doing."

"I like the hair."

"Yeah. She watched Braveheart before coming here. Said it was Celtic or something."

"Well, it's really... nice."

"Oh, you ladykiller, you," laughed Maura. He blushed slightly.

"Sorry... I just..." Maura took his arm and smiled at him.

"I know, Harry. I know. Let's go. Sooner we get there, the sooner we leave, right?"

They walked out of the portrait hole and began walking down in the direction of the Great Hall.

"So, you don't want to go with me?" asked Harry. She made a peculiar face at him.

"It's not that. I'm not really a party sort of person. Never got invited to many, even when I was a kid. When I did I usually made the birthday girl cry."

"I know the feeling. I was invited to some when I was little but Aunt Petunia never let me go. She said I'd disgrace her."

"Well then, we're set. I can offend everyone and you can turn them into toads. Look on the bright side Harry, at least we won't be expected to dance."

***

"Harry!" shouted Sirius as soon as Harry and Maura went into the crowded Great Hall. It looked much as it had for the Yule Ball although the vibes were clearly more relaxed. It wasn't a ball so much as it was a party.

"Hey Sirius!" he called. "You're looking sharp tonight."

Sirius did look good. His hair was back to its usual black colour while his robes looked to Harry to be the same colour as Padfoot's fur, albeit with red and gold trim.

"Thanks. I need to ask you a favour."

"What?"

"We need someone to kick off the dancing and-"

"I don't dance," Harry cut in immediately.

"But Harry..."

"I don't dance."

"Please, Harry, think about it."

"I don't dance."

"Maura, will you talk to him?"

"I don't dance," she said, echoing Harry. Sirius sighed and she continued, "Why don't you kick it off?"

"I'm not the figurehead of the whole campaign," Sirius explained.

"So?" asked Harry, temper flaring suddenly. "I don't dance! Deal with it!" He then stomped off in the direction of the food table. Maura and Sirius shared a worried look.

"What's the matter with him?" asked Sirius.

"Do I look like Hermione to you?" she said. Sirius shook his head. "There you go."

"Oh, I see. I think a lot of people would appreciate Harry starting the dancing. I know it seems a bit stupid, but they all look up to him and..."

"I'll talk to him, OK? Just so long as we don't have to dance much," she said with a heavy sigh.

"Thank you." Sirius grinned charmingly at her and went off in the direction of Narcissa and Remus. After a moment, Harry returned with two glasses of pumpkin juice. On her look, he spoke.

"We have to dance, don't we?" he asked resignedly.

"Yeah."

"I just wish... I just wish that I wasn't anything important," he told her. "I wish I'd grown up with my mum and dad and come to Hogwarts as just another kid. As just Harry Potter. I wish I'd been able to just play Quidditch and go out with Hermione without her getting kidnapped and..." he trailed off with an angry exhalation of air. Maura took his hand and looked him squarely in the eye, ice blue meeting warm but sad green.

"I know that. I wish that I'd grown up with a human heart instead of a Grinchy sized heart. I wish that I'd been nicer to my family. I wish I'd never been picked to save the world. I wish that I'd fallen in love with someone not idolised by my best friend. I wish that George hadn't died to save me. I wish that George at least knew about Deirdre. I wish that I'm not facing a life alone because I can't ever love anyone else. But so what? Since when do we get to choose? We don't get to choose, my boy."

"It's not fair," he mumbled. She just laughed.

"Of course it isn't! That's not how life works. We're all the walking wounded. Some of us just have worse wounds."

"But..."

"I know, Harry. Everything you're thinking now, I've already done it. Just... The way I see it, we can just collapse and let the world win, or we can stand up and fight."

"Isn't that what we've been training for?"

"Exactly. Don't want to waste all your hard work, do you?" she asked. He smiled slightly and shook his head. "There you go! Nothing but a temporary lapse, Harry. We all get them."

"Yeah right."

"Yeah. I just don't let anyone see."

"Aren't you lonely?"

"Absolutely. But it says in the Hero Handbook that I'm not allowed such luxuries."

"Don't talk about the Hero Handbook as if there's such a thing," he laughed.

"There is!"

"There is not."

"There is so! It's like the Girl Guide handbook without the instructions on how to pitch tents."

"Liar. You were never a Girl Guide."

"No I wasn't. Kat was though. Knew a lot about knots and elementary First Aid."

"Harry!" Sirius came bounding over again. "Please start the dancing?" Sirius turned on his most charming smile.

"Fine," he grumbled, standing up. He turned to Maura. "Might I have this dance, milady?"

"Well, since you asked so nicely." She took his hand and allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor. The music started- quite a slow song. They danced together, although they weren't particularly close.

"She's still up in the library?" Maura asked as more people swarmed onto the dance floor. Harry didn't need to ask who she was talking about.

"Yes. I looked in earlier. She's barricaded herself in the Restricted Section surrounded by books."

"She knows why you broke up with her, you know."

"She told me that."

"Don't you think it might still have hurt her quite a lot?"

"I know. But I didn't know what else to do. I figured if she hated me, she wouldn't be so sad when I died."

"You're not going to die. I mean we all die, but you're not doing it any time soon."

"Sometimes I actually believe that."

"You're a great wizard, Harry."

"Hermione told me that once. Then she hugged me. Then I went off to face unspeakable evil. It's the same story every time. That's why I broke up with her."

"You're an idiot," Maura growled.

"Thanks."

"You're so obsessed with dying that you've forgotten to live in the meantime. I'd give anything to have just five more minutes with George." Maura now looked at him coldly. The song ended and she walked away to where Ron was sitting with Lavender, Seamus and Ginny. Harry sighed and headed off the dance floor.

***

Hermione rubbed her eyes tiredly and checked her watch. The music had begun at eight, and although the library was a distance from the Great Hall, the music was still quite clear and had been distracting her. She conjured up images of the party in her mind. Harry, looking almost illegally handsome in green, complementing the flame-haired beauty with him. In this image she had in her head, Maura had been transformed from her usual don't-care tomboyish self into a siren more beautiful than Aphrodite or Helen of Troy. It wasn't the first time Hermione had felt jealous of Maura, but it was certainly the most painful. She liked Maura when the other girl thawed out enough to get close to, but the fact remained that she was pretty, occasionally outgoing and she was down in the Great Hall as the date of Harry.

"Knut for your thoughts?" a voice broke into her glum imaginings. She looked up to see Harry, looking almost illegally handsome in green, leaning against the gate into the Restricted Section.

"Save your money," she said, purposely looking back down at her book. He opened the gate and went inside. He sat down opposite her and snatched the book away.

"Harry," she said irritably, "I'm very busy. Leave me alone. Go back to the dance."

"Don't want to. It's pretty boring."

"What about your date?" spat Hermione, unable to mask her jealousy any longer. She was tired and unhappy and wanted out of this conversation.

"The date you told me to get?" he asked pointedly. "She's annoyed with me."

"Why?"

"Because I didn't really want to be there."

"So what are you doing here?"

"Thought you might like a dance."

"Me?"

"Yeah. I danced with Maura. I'd like a dance with my best friend."

"Really? So why aren't you dancing with Ron?"

"Too tall for me," Harry gave her his best puppy-dog eyes. "Please?"

"I'm very busy."

"We don't have to leave the library. Just one dance. Please."

"Fine." she stood up and moved around the table into his waiting arms.

The song down in the hall changed to a slow song, for which Harry would be eternally grateful. Hermione relaxed into his arms until there was no space between them. They swayed to the music, all thoughts of war or even anything outside that Restricted Section gone from their minds. For now at least, all that remained was Harry and Hermione.

***

The morning after was a different story, however. News came from Paris that Voldemort's forces had attacked Beauxbatons. The faculty at the school had been preparing for some time thanks to advice from 'Dumbly-dorr' and had been able to get their students out before the school itself was destroyed. The message to Hogwarts was clear: You're Next. By mid-afternoon, displaced students and staff from the Parisian school were arriving at the increasingly crowded Hogwarts.

"Blimey," Ron said to the morose looking Harry as they watched the Beauxbatons carriage empty its cargo from a bench by the fountain. Crowds of people filled the lawn, milling about, unsure what to do.

"Is that Fleur?" Ron asked Harry, pointing to a distinctive looking blonde who was dabbing tears away from her eyes.

"I thought she left school already."

"She did. Maybe it's her sister. What was her name, Gabrielle?"

"Yes. They don't seem to know where to go. Should we go down there?

"Nah. I'm enjoying the view," Ron said with a somewhat leering smirk. A dark haired girl detached herself from the crowd and walked purposefully towards them.

"Hey there," said the girl in an English accent. "Don't suppose you know the way to the Great Hall?"

"Suppose we do?" Ron shot back in a teasing manner. She glared at him dangerously.

"Listen, little boy, we're all bloody tired and hungry and most of those kids are terrified. How about you stop being a total wanker and tell us where we need to go?"

"Um... OK?" asked Ron, taken by surprise at her rather forthright manner. She smiled tightly.

"Thanks ever so." She turned and walked back to the group, leaving Ron and Harry no other option but to follow. She then spoke to the group in French before turning back to Ron.

"Right then, show us the way," she demanded of him in clipped tones.

"It's up here," said Ron in a quiet voice and the boys led them into the castle and into the Great Hall, where Dumbledore was in a spirited discussion with Madam Maxime.

"Ah thank you Ron, Harry," he said with twinkling eyes. He then asked the Beauxbatons students in French to sit down and make themselves comfortable.

"Thanks," said the girl in a slightly friendlier tone. "You are?"

"Ron, Ron Weasley," he said, recovering enough to put on the Weasley charm. "Nice to meet you. I think."

"Deanna Lynott. Nice to meet you. Sorry for shouting," she said with a bright smile.

"S'all right," he said, his ears turning pink. "This is Harry Potter," he said, waving a hand at Harry. Deanna looked unimpressed as she cast her gaze over Harry.

"Hi," she said quite shortly. Harry smiled at her in greeting before turning to his friend.

"Ron, we've got to meet Maura in a minute."

"OK. Well, bye then, uh, Deanna."

"Bye."

***

They were kept busy over the next few days, especially after a shipment of weapons arrived from America. Boxes of all shapes and sizes were strewn around the room and the soldiers of the Phoenician Army were all busily checking the weapons inside them. Maura and Hermione were also there checking for jinxes and curses before adding them to the inventory.

"What's going on?" Harry asked as he and Ron arrived.. Both of them blanked him. He sighed and moved away from them.

"How did you manage to get two girls not talking to you?" Ron asked him quietly. Harry sighed.

"Maura's annoyed with me because I won't put Hermione into danger. Hermione's annoyed with me because I won't put Hermione into danger. Want to make the third a charm?"

"I'm fine, thanks," Ron said with an ill-concealed smirk. He then turned to the girls and he repeated Harry's question. "What's going on?"

Maura pointed to a large box.

"They need checking for all known jinxes, curses and hexes. Then you add them to this list," she handed Ron a long sheet of parchment.

"We're on it," said Harry, opening the box. The box was stuffed full of short swords Harry recognised from History of Magic as a 'gladius', the sort used by gladiators in Ancient Rome. He began stripping them down as Flitwick had taught them, checking for any foul play.

"Harry!" called McGonagall, looking quite stressed. "Professor Dumbledore would like to speak to you," she said, pointing to where Dumbledore was sat in his usual chair. He went over to the old man.

"Professor?" he asked. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled and he smiled at Harry.

"I have something for you, something I think you might find useful," he said. He pointed at the sword in front of him. Its ruby-encrusted hilt sparkled in the light.

"Gryffindor's sword?" asked Harry. Dumbledore nodded.

"You've used it to great effect before, after all."

"Thank you, Professor. Thank you," Harry stammered, slightly overwhelmed by the faith Dumbledore was putting into him.

"Use it well Harry."

"I will, Professor," Harry said sincerely, before heading back to Ron and Maura.

"What's that?" asked Ron. Harry said nothing, but exhibited the hilt, upon which the name Godric Gryffindor was engraved. They all looked suitably impressed.

"Dumbledore just gave it to me," Harry explained. Maura and Hermione, forgetting that they weren't talking to him, came over curiously.

"Is that meant to be your weapon of choice?" asked Hermione, examining the fine craftsmanship of the sword. Harry just nodded. She seemed to remember that she wasn't talking to him and turned away. Forgetting all about the job he was supposed to be doing, he sat next to her.

"What is it I'm meant to have done?" he whispered to her. She said nothing. "Come on, Hermione, what is I did?"

"Harry," she hissed. "You know exactly what you did."

"Well, obviously I don't, or I wouldn't have asked."

"Well, how about I refresh your memory?" she said sarcastically. "I had just returned from being kidnapped by a raving lunatic. Remember that, do you?"

Harry nodded glumly.

"Good. Then the day after that, I was dumped by the one person I ever cared about. And ever since then, I've had no idea what you think or what you feel."

"Yes you do."

"No, I don't. You know, sometimes it feels like we're back to normal or something. Like the other night. Sometimes you're so distant I hardly recognise you. Sometimes I don't even feel like we're best friends anymore. If you didn't have to put up me with because of the bonding, I don't think you'd even want to be in the same room as me. Now, you're wondering what you've done?"

"No, I suppose not," he said with a sigh. "Does it mean anything if I tell you that hurting you was the last thing I meant to do?"

Hermione shifted uncomfortably under his unyielding gaze.

"Maybe," she answered after a long pause. She got up. "Maybe if I had my best friend back, it would."

"You always had him, Hermione," he replied. She gave a weak, perhaps disbelieving smile before heading out of the Great Hall.

It took the better part of the day for everyone to check every weapon in the arsenal before then distributing them to those who would be fighting. They weren't going to take any chances by depending solely on their wands, and every person preparing to fight would be armed as well. Intelligence reports came in daily of increased Death Eater activity, and on the Muggle news there was a report about a herd of winged horses making their way north past Wolverhampton. Shipments from Diagon Alley were cut off completely.

***

Harry took to carrying Gryffindor's sword with him at all times, for immediate use when the time came. He wore it in a silver scabbard attached to his belt, which with his flowing robes, made him look like Don Juan or one of the Musketeers. He wasn't the only one to stay prepared at all times, either. With the aid of Professor Snape, the four brewed nutrition healing potions and each carried several vials around with them in pouches attached to their belts. Maura had her own weaponry to add to their vast, growing collection. They both constantly wore protective dragon-hide trousers and boots under robes, looking rather like Hells Angels with swords.

"What's that?" Harry asked Maura. She'd just come into the Great Hall for dinner and was carrying a beautiful old shield and a sword as finely crafted as Gryffindor's.

"This is the Connaught Shield," she said, brandishing the shield proudly. It was made of wood, and had to be magical in some proportion, for it was surely too old to still remain intact. The image of a warrior queen with wild hair, fierce eyes and a fiercer expression was engraved on a bronze disc secured onto the front. "The face is Queen Maeve in battle, I think. I don't know when this was made, but I reckon it was made after she died. I had to find this last year. It was in a cave. It's enchanted as well. Only the Heir of Maeve can wield it, you know. Lucky, lucky me."

This last part was said with a definite edge to her voice.

"Are you all right, Maura?" asked Ron. She paused for a moment, her expression barely readable.

"Fine. I'm just keyed up. I want to get this fighting thing started."

"Do you like fighting?" asked Hermione, curious about the slightly strange look on Maura's face. Maura paused again.

"I don't like killing. I don't like spilling blood. But.... But there's something thrilling about being in battle, as if it's all I was ever really meant to do. If I could do it without people being hurt, I might like it," she looked ashamed of herself and a little confused. "It's not bloodlust. It's... something else, less tangible."

"What's the sword?" asked Harry, sensing the need to change the subject. Maura put the highly jewelled sword on the table. Like Gryffindor's sword, it was encrusted with rubies.

"This is the sword of Ulster. It belonged to Conochobar and the Red Branch kings, hence all the rubies. And at least we'll coordinate on the battlefield. So important, don't you think?" she asked with a short laugh which was returned by Harry.

"Why do you have it?" asked Hermione. "You're the Heir of Connaught."

Maura cleared her throat and recited:

"Heir of Maeve, Warrior Queen of Connaught, Commander of the Armies of the West. Mother and guardian of the Heir of Ulster. As such, until Deirdre comes of age, I am the Commander of the Armies of the North, should they ever be called upon. I'm the... Regent of Ulster, if you like."

"Regis," Hermione corrected automatically. "Female form of Regent."

"You should have business cards made," cracked Ron. Maura smirked.

"It doesn't mean anything really," she said. "Except that I get to use this smashing sword."

Maura fixed the shield onto her back as if it were a rucksack and like Harry, carried the Ulster sword around with her in a scabbard. They made a rather intimidating pair as they went about their business: two warriors ready for battle. Everyone in the Castle knew varying amounts about the battle plans, but the one thing that everyone knew was that Harry Potter and his red-headed friend Maura would be fighting Voldemort very soon. Many people in the castle avoided the pair, perhaps a little afraid of what they were capable of.

***

"I wish something would happen!" Ron exclaimed noisily. Hermione slammed her book down onto the table and glared at him. Madam Pince glared at them.

"That's the fifteenth time you've said that, and for the fifteenth time will you shut up!" she yelled. A furious argument looked ready to explode between the two and neither Harry or Maura knew exactly how to diffuse it. Harry watched the two argue, the tension escalating rapidly and felt a sudden need to be sick. He was going to be fighting Voldemort any day now. He might even die. Hermione and Ron might die. He might never see Hermione or Ron again. He might never see Hermione again and here they were, all arguing over nothing. Harry stood up abruptly and shot off towards the Prefects' Bathroom.

"Great. Bloody brilliant," said Maura in a dry, sarcastic voice. "Why don't you try sticking pins into his eyes too?"

"What did we do?" asked Ron hotly. Maura sighed.

"Oh, nothing. I heard that Harry really enjoys watching his two best friends tear each other to shreds right before we might all die."

Ron and Hermione shared a worried, apologetic look. Ron stood up.

"I'll go and find him."

***

"Harry? Harry are you in here?" called Ron, his voice bouncing off the walls of the Quidditch changing room. He was running out of places to look for his friend and was hoping he'd find Harry soon. Wherever he was, however, it wasn't here. Ron went back outside, inhaling the scent of spring at nightfall. Hogwarts was a beautiful place, he thought for the thousandth time. In the corner of his eye, he saw a sudden flash of gold. He spun around, but there was nothing save for the Forest in that direction.

Again, a flash of gold flickered in Ron's peripheral vision. He smiled and quickly transformed into his Bengal tiger form. He bounded over towards the Forest. Although he'd always been rather fearful of the Forbidden Forest, especially after meeting Aragog (the tiger shivered at the memory), in his four-legged form he felt no such fear. He was so much bigger than a lot of the beings in the forest and had sharper teeth. He went into the forest and sniffed the air. In his animagus form, he could pick up Harry/Rex's scent quite easily. He followed it for a while, finally finding the lion sitting at the foot of an oak tree. He padded up to him and settled down beside him.

Rex looked at the Bengal tiger with sad eyes. The tiger lifted a paw and rested it on the lion's shoulder. Rex's head slumped onto his own paws and he let out a half-roar, half-sigh. The two big cats sat in silence, if not the kings of the jungle, then the kings of this forest.

After a while sitting in contemplative silence, the two big cats got up and wandered back to the castle. Changing back into their human selves, they went inside. They turned a corner to find Percy and George outside a door.

"What's up?" asked Ron. Percy's eyes were wild with panic while George's sparkled with amusement.

"Penelope... She's... um...." he stuttered, seeming a thousand miles away from the usually composed Percy. George filled in for him.

"Penny's having the baby."

"So that's what that bump was," joked Ron. "I just thought she'd eaten all the pies."

"Shut up, Ron," said Harry on Percy's panicked and annoyed look. "Is she all right, Percy?"

"Yes Harry. I think so. Mum kicked me out half an hour ago."

"He was getting in the way," added George with a wicked grin. The door swung open with a bang. Molly Weasley stood in the doorway, a grin on her face.

"Do you want to come back in, Percy?"

"Yes I do," he said in his usual stuffy manner.

"Only if you promise to behave," Molly insisted before turning to Ron and Harry. "Hello boys. No point waiting round here, it's going to take a while. We'll send Hermes to you when the baby's born."

"All right Mum," said Ron. "We're off to the kitchens for some pie."

Ron then began walking briskly down the hall and Harry could only rush after him. Ron paused suddenly and fixed Harry with a stern look.

"Feel better now?"

"A bit," Harry admitted. "I think we'll all feel better once this is all over and done with."

"I know what you mean. Harry?"

"Yes Ron?"

"Are you scared of dying?"

"No. Not really. I'm more worried about everyone else. You, Sirius, Maura... Hermione. I'm not hungry," he said suddenly. He turned abruptly before walking back outside. Ron could only follow, bemused. He rushed after Harry.

"What's the matter, Harry?"

"I don't want... I don't think I could stand it if all this was destroyed," he said, waving a hand vaguely in the air.

"I know that, Harry. That's why we've been working so hard."

"I know that, I know. But... but what if we still lose? Where does it say that the good guys always win?"

"I don't know."

They stood in awkward silence for a moment, before the sound of phoenix song filled the air. In the distance, they saw a bright red bird soaring across the skies.

"Hermione?" asked Ron.

"Who else?"

"Seems that she got over her fear of flying," remarked Ron.

"She looks.... She looks like a flame," said Harry, looking up at the phoenix with awe.

"A flame? Ironic, seeing as that's what phoenixes do. They burst into flames."

The phoenix appeared to notice them and swooped down, landing neatly at their feet. Harry bent down to fluff it's feathers.

"We're going to call you Flame," he said. The phoenix stepped away and transfigured back into Hermione.

"Flame?" she asked, eyebrow cocked in confusion.

"Don't ask," said Ron. "What were you doing out here?"

"Thinking."

"I'm sorry for winding you up," he said. She smiled.

"I'm sorry for shouting at you."

"Why don't we go for a walk or something? Just the three of us," suggested Harry. Hermione smiled sweetly, taking his arm with her right hand and Ron's with her left hand. Then laughing, the trio walked towards the sunset.

They walked, talked, joked and laughed for what seemed like hours. They must've circled the lake six times when Percy's trusted owl Hermes swooped towards them. He paused only long enough for Ron to take his note before rushing off again. Ron unfurled the note and read it aloud.

"It's a boy. Percy's called it Percy," read Ron. "Typical of Percy to name the kid after himself."

The news of the new baby lightened the mood of the entire school, although almost immediately the baby and his exhausted mother were secreted in a 'safe' part of the school. Harry wondered where exactly could be considered safe in the current climate, but there were a lot of weird places in the castle.

***

It came out of the blue two days later. Everyone was on their way to class or to whatever their tasks for the afternoon might be. The corridors of Hogwarts heaved with students and adults, reflecting the school's swollen numbers. Then suddenly, McGonagall's magically amplified voice called out.

"Everyone is to return to their dormitories at once! All teachers are to go to the Staff Room immediately."

The halls of Hogwarts were suddenly very quiet and still. Then everyone sprang into action, running here and there, trying to obey the Deputy Headmistress' orders.

Only three people did not. Harry, Hermione and Ron stayed still, wondering whether to obey or find out what was going on. It took them a full two seconds to decide and then they headed off to the Staff Room. Remus and Arabella were standing guard, evidently expecting Harry and his friends.

"Go to your dorm, Harry," Remus told him. Harry looked at him and shook his head.

"What's going on?" he asked. Remus and Arabella shared a brief look before stepping away from the door.

"Talk to Professor McGonagall," Arabella said reluctantly. The three went into the staff room.

"What are you doing here, Potter?" snarled Snape.

"I've come to talk to Professor McGonagall," Harry replied in a tone half-respectful and half a little scornful of Snape.

"What do you want Potter?" McGonagall asked in a distracted tone. She looked particularly worried and rather panicky- a trait uncharacteristic of her.

"What's going on, Professor?" he asked in a rather more gentle way than he'd used with Snape.

"Oh, it's just... I don't really know..." she collapsed into a chair. Hermione rushed to her side.

"Are you all right Professor?" she asked, alarmed at this most un-McGonagall like behaviour. McGonagall nodded.

"I'm fine. But Professor Dumbledore..." she trailed off. Snape cut in.

"He's been poisoned somehow."

"Poisoned?" exclaimed Ron. "Is he-"

"No, he's not dead, Weasley. But we don't know what poisoned him and therefore we don't know how to cure him."

Snape's usual sneering demeanour had disappeared, leaving only a man unable to use his expertise to help a friend. Hermione jumped up.

"Well, what are we waiting for? We'll go to the library for answers."

"It's not that simple, Miss Granger," Snape told her. "First we must find a way to keep the Professor from dying. And we need to know what he was poisoned with first. Madam Pomfrey is doing her analysis now."

"Yes, Professor. But we can still be reading," she said with an over-bright smile. She squeezed Professor McGonagall's hand and then jumped up. "Well, you know where I'll be."

Then Hermione, possessed by that spirit which claimed her in times of crisis, sprinted to the library.

***

It took Madam Pomfrey another three hours to finally be able to tell what poison Dumbledore had been given. Even then, she was only able to tell Professor Snape that it was a hybrid potion derived from the Draught of the Living Dead, Forgetfulness Potion and several others combined to keep Dumbledore incapacitated.

After scouring the Castle for clues, a half-empty bag of Sherbet Lemons sent to Dumbledore from Honeydukes were found to have been infused with the poison. After questioning the owners of Honeydukes, it was discovered that there had been a break-in the night before they sent the Professor his weekly batch of Muggle goodies.

It took Snape and Sprout hours more to manage to make an antidote, and even then all it did was enable Professor Dumbledore to remain conscious. He was barely strong enough to sit up, let alone help fight. Whoever wanted the Headmaster out of the picture had succeeded.

"They didn't want him dead. Why?" Hermione mused. She, Harry and Ron were searching through the library for any ideas for a full cure.

"Whoever it was knew that his death would anger more people," Harry answered. "This way, he's kept out of the way, we're distracted from war planning because we're looking for a cure, but nobody's out for revenge because he isn't dead."

"Well, I don't think it'll be too long before the Death Eaters turn up," Hermione said. "They'll want to strike while he's still incapacitated."

"I've got a galleon that says it's within a week," said Ron.

***