Harry Potter and the Return to Godric's Hollow

CHAPTER SEVEN

Reprieve, Cancellations, and Auror Talk

"Ack!"

"Ow!"

Harry stumbled as he fought to stay upright; he could feel the ground beneath his feet tremor ever so slightly as the person he'd just collided with was sent to the hard soil beneath him. He whirled around, expecting to see someone on all fours, ready to lunge at him, but instead saw something much worse. He turned bright red. It was Cho Chang, and she was sitting up, leaning forward and examining her right ankle.

Harry groaned, cursing his bad luck, which couldn't have been any worse. It was bad enough that he'd just run into someone, but for it to be Cho Chang, his long-time crush?

"I'm so sorry," Harry said as he fell on his knees beside her.

Surprisingly, Cho looked up at him and smiled slightly. "It's okay. It was partially my fault; I wasn't watching where I was going."

"Is your ankle okay?" Harry asked as he looked at her ankle, which she was rubbing.

"Er, I think so..." Cho began to stand up, and Harry quickly got to his feet and held out a hand for her.

"Thanks," she mumbled. She took it, Harry hoping she wouldn't notice how his palms were sweating. He focused on helping her to stand up. When Cho was on both her feet, she winced.

"It's not that bad," she said. "I think I just rolled it or something."

"Do you need to, er, go see Madame Pomfrey?"

"No, I think it'll be okay, really," Cho answered, she shifted her weight onto her right foot and then back to her left. "It actually feels better already."

Harry managed a small laugh. "I am sorry," he repeated. "I was just coming out here to see Ron and Hermione, and I guess I got a little caught up in thought."

Cho laughed too. "Yeah, me too - I mean, I was caught up in thought too."

"Were you going to go see your friends?" Harry asked, spotting Cho's usual group of friends sitting by the lake in a small group, talking.

"Actually," Cho replied, "I was just going in..." She looked at her right foot and began to flex her ankle.

"Oh," Harry said. Then, deciding he didn't want to end their conversation, he said the first thing that came to mind: "Why were you going in?"

Apparently, it was the wrong thing to ask.

Cho dropped her foot and grimaced once more at the sudden jolt she gave to her ankle.

"Well, it's still a little hard... to sit out here by the lake. It makes me think of--of Cedric." She caught her breath, and Harry did too as he felt a tinge of guilt enter his mind.

"I still miss him, you know? It's all so different this year, without him. I just can't completely get over what happened. It shouldn't have been like this at all. It shouldn't have happened to him - Cedric didn't deserve anything like that--" Cho broke off and blinked her eyes rapidly. Her breathing was shallow, and she looked as if she was holding back tears that had previously, probably before Harry had ruined their course, been about to be shed.

"I know," Harry said, giving Cho a chance to calm herself. "It shouldn't have been him. It should have been me."

"You? Oh, no Harry, don't say that."

"It was my fault. If I hadn't been in the Tournament in the first place--"

"But you couldn't help that, could you?"

"If I hadn't told Cedric to take the Cup by himself, and then settled on us both taking it, none of this would have ever happened."

Cho, who Harry thought would have been confused for her lack of knowledge on what had actually happened, was looking determined and narrowed her eyes.

"Harry Potter, you did not deserve to - to die. Nobody does, not like that. What you did in that cemetery was more than anyone I know would have; it was more than I could have done. And you brought Cedric back. Do you know how much that meant to his parents, to everyone here at Hogwarts, to me? You risked your own life to bring him back. You were really brave."

Harry looked at Cho and felt some of his guilt that he'd felt since Cedric's death dissipate. He smiled slightly, and then asked what had been nagging his mind for the last few moments. "But, how did you know what happened in the graveyard?"

"Oh," Cho said, looking guilty. "Well, I know Mr. and Mrs. Diggory weren't supposed to tell anyone what happened - that's what Professor Dumbledore told them when he retold your account of what had happened - but I couldn't bear not to know. I begged them to tell me, and they felt I was owed an explanation, so..." She gestured aimlessly and then flopped her hands to her sides.

Harry shook his head. "It's alright. You did deserve to know."

"So... I mean, all of what happened... You-Know-Who? He was really there?" Cho's brown eyes were huge, and were almost pleading with Harry to tell her that no, it was not true.

Instead, he solemnly shook his head yes.

"Oh..." Cho gazed out onto the lake for a few minutes, in silence. At last she said, in a lighter tone, "I should be going now; I need to finish a book I've been reading for Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"How is that class, then?" Harry asked, eager to know what others thought of Arabella.

"It's great, actually. Really interesting, what we're learning now." Cho paused. "I heard that Professor Figg is your godmother."

"Yeah, she is." He'd been wondering how long it would take for that to go around the school.

"That must be good for you, then," Cho said. "I mean, since your parents..."

"Yeah," Harry said. "It's been really good."

Cho shook her head. "Well, it's been nice...running into you." She laughed for a second, and began to back away. "See you later."

"Yeah, see you," Harry replied as she turned around and walked slowly to the castle.

Harry stood by himself for a few more moments and thought about what Cho had said. She didn't blame him for what had happened... He'd been hearing this from everyone, but it had never actually made him feel unaccountable for all the bad that had happened until Cho said it to him. Maybe it was because he knew Cedric had meant so much to her, and that her forgiveness was worth more than a lot of other peoples'.

There was one thing Harry was sure of, and it was how he felt about Cho. He realized in the next few days that he no longer had a flip-flopping stomach around her, a flushed face, or sweaty palms for that matter. That short, but very satisfying, discussion he'd had with Cho changed everything about her. Sure, she was still attractive, bright, and a lot of boys still wanted to go out with her, but Harry wasn't one of those boys. From now on, he merely felt like her friend.

~*~

"Sorry to leave you like this, chap," Ron said as he pulled one of his newer sweaters on over his head. Looking in the mirror, he brushed his messy hair off of his forehead and to the side with his fingers. "I still don't know how Snape managed to schedule your detention for today."

Harry leaned against his bedpost, watching Ron, and crossed his arms. "I'm telling you, he knew somehow."

Ron turned away from the mirror, satisfied with his reflection, and picked up a small bag with money in it. "If you get out early, you could still join us..."

"Yeah," Harry said grouchily, "if I don't smell like shoe polish or bat guts by the time he's done with me."

"Just be glad you won't smell like dirty bedpans," Ron pointed out as he crossed the bedroom to the door. "I smelled like crap - literally."

Harry snorted. "I'm sure there's something worse in store for me." He followed Ron out the door and down the steps to the Common Room. They sat on the couch, not seeing Hermione yet, and Ron took a quick look around. Convinced that nobody could hear him, he turned to Harry and said in a low voice, "I was serious, you know. If you get done early, just go get your Invisibility Cloak and the Marauders Map..."

Harry nodded slowly. He couldn't walk out to Hogsmeade on his own without a Prefect to escort him, but with his secret items that would keep him well hidden and away from prying eyes... "I will, if I can. When do you think you'll be back?"

"I don't know; since Hermione's a Prefect, we can stay as long as we like. She wants to go get her supplies for potions and more books, I think, and I want to stop in Honeydukes and the Three Broomsticks."

"If I get done in time, I'll meet you two in there, at three o'clock, in the back booth where we usually sit."

"Alright," Ron answered. He tensed a little, and then stood up. Hermione had just come down the stairs and was walking towards them, purse in hand.

"Hi," she greeted them when she reached the sofa. "Sorry you can't come, Harry."

"It's alright," Harry said, hoping the plan he and Ron had made would work out.

"I think Harry here will be joining us after all," Ron said as he winked at Harry.

Hermione narrowed her eyes, but smiled slightly nonetheless. "What exactly are you two planning?"

"Don't worry, it's nothing out of the ordinary," Ron said as he put his hands on Hermione's shoulders and steered her towards the portrait hole. Harry followed and said goodbye after Hermione instructed him to stay out of trouble.

He climbed the steps to the boys' dorm rooms again; it was only one o'clock, and he didn't have to leave for another fifteen minutes. When he got inside the fifth years' room, the only occupant present was Neville. He glanced up from a letter and said hi to Harry.

"Who's that from?" Harry asked, taking a seat on his bed.

"My grandma," Neville said while casting the letter aside. He looked around and his eyes stopped at the small table next to Harry's bed. "Harry, I've been meaning to ask you something: What is that?"

Harry followed Neville's gaze to the photograph that he'd received from Hagrid for his birthday, an image that he'd practically memorized in his mind. "It's a picture of my parents, when they were in their fifth year, in the Gryffindor Common Room with their friends. That's Professor Lupin," Neville stared at the picture with a blank expression and nodded, "and that's, uh, Sirius Black. I still haven't figured out who those other two are, though..."

Neville looked at Harry with a look of incredulity. "Hold on." He picked up a picture frame from beside his bed, crossed the room quickly, and brought it to Harry. In the frame, there was a large portrait of Neville's grandmother, and tucked in the corner there was a picture of Neville as a baby, with both of his parents beside him.

"That's a nice picture," Harry said, not completely certain why Neville was showing him this picture. Neville scoffed.

"Don't you see?" He pulled the small picture of him and his parents off of the frame and put it beside Harry's. "See? Harry, that's my dad!"

"What?" Harry bent down and looked from his picture to his friend's. "It is! But, I didn't know our parents were friends; I mean, I didn't even know they were in the same year!"

"Me neither," Neville said with a smile as he put his photos back to their spot beside his bed. "But it looks as if they were."

Harry remembered what he'd found out about Neville's dad - both of his parents, really - last year, from Dumbledore. Neville had never told anyone, that Harry knew of anyway, about their condition and still didn't know Harry knew about them.

"How are your parents?" Harry inquired casually, pretending to analyze his picture on the table.

"Oh, the same as they've been," Neville said, equally as relaxed but in a softer tone. He plopped down on his bed again. It seemed he still wasn't ready to talk about his parents with anyone, so Harry merely gave Neville an encouraging smile and glanced at the clock; he had to get going soon.

"I have to go to detention; I don't want to be late... I don't even want to think what else Snape will make me do if I am."

"Oh, yeah, was that for that fight you got in with Malfoy last week?"

Harry grinned despite the sheepishness he felt. "Yeah."

Neville snickered. "That was great, though. It was totally worth it; I've never seen Malfoy get beat up so badly. It was even better because everyone stared at him while walking down the hall with his black eye you gave him - one time I even saw him start yelling at a Ravenclaw for staring, he tried to take points."

Harry snickered with Neville. "Yeah, I'll just see how it pays off after my detention."

"Alright," Neville said as he picked up his book once more. "See you later."

Harry walked down the hall, trying to look like he actually had somewhere important to go. Since the time the Aurors had arrived at the school, he had figured out that if you looked like you had somewhere to go and something to do, and weren't goofing off with your friends, the Aurors tended not to bother you about what your agenda was.

Harry was in the corridor that led to the last flight of steps he needed to descend when he saw a tall man coming his way. It was dark and he couldn't see him very well until the light was reflected off of the old man's moon-shaped glasses.

Harry smiled as Dumbledore came nearer and slowed down when he was addressed.

"Harry, what are you doing down here on a nice Saturday afternoon like this?"

Harry suddenly felt the satisfaction that he and Neville had been laughing about drain away and replaced with immaturity. "Er, I'm on my way to a detention with Professor Snape."

"A detention?" Dumbledore lifted his eyebrows and frowned. "What for?"

"Er, Malfoy and I got into a bit of a fight last week," Harry explained, indeed feeling very childish now.

"I see," Dumbledore answered sternly. "Then I suppose you fully deserve that detention."

"Yeah, I suppose so, Professor," Harry answered quietly. The Headmaster's eyes were making him feel increasingly stupid with every blink, but in a second, they twinkled a bit.

"If I remember correctly, your father also had a slight disregard of the rules, especially when he was defending himself. Do I dare ask if you were the source of that nasty black eye Mr. Malfoy has been bearing all week?" Harry shook his head yes in response. "Well, I'm sure it was instigated for good reason; if not, then I hope to hear nothing like this again in the future. I'll let you go now, so you aren't late." Dumbledore set his hand on Harry's shoulder, eyes shining, and then strode off in the opposite direction. Letting out a deep breath, Harry continued his decent to the dungeons and the torture awaiting him.

When he finally did reach the shadowy door to the Potions classroom a few minutes later, he turned the doorknob slowly and walked heavily inside. Snape didn't even glance up from his desk.

"Had you arrived one more minute later, Potter, and I would have had you refilling every jar of newt spleen I had." Harry rolled his eyes as he stood in front of Snape's tidy desk; not a thing on it was out of place, and even the stacks of assignments were piled neatly on top of each other. The sallow professor marked a large "C" in green ink on top of an unfortunate person's homework, then backed away from his desk and stood up, smirking spitefully. "For your detention today, you will be--"

"Severus!" A voice was coming from Snape's office and it sounded to Harry like Dumbledore's.

Snape glared at Harry. "Stay here, and don't touch anything." He hurried across the dungeon to his office, black robes billowing out behind him, and shut the door to his workplace behind him. Harry waited impatiently, trying to figure out if it had definitely been Dumbledore that he'd heard call Snape's name. It certainly sounded like him, but he couldn't have been in the office; he'd just passed him on the way to the dungeon!

In a minute, Snape rushed out of the office and glowered at Harry. "Your detention is cancelled. I'll reschedule it at your next lesson. Go back to your Common Room."

Harry goggled at Snape; the ruthless teacher had never called off a detention, ever. This was definitely something worthy of a spot in Hogwarts, a History, Harry thought as Snape shot him daggers and pointed towards the door before hastening back to his office.

Harry exited the bleak room, walking slowly in thought up to the Common Room - he couldn't believe his good fortune. It was only half past one, which meant he could go to Hogsmeade and hope to find Ron and Hermione much earlier than planned. As he was about to turn a corner, he noticed out of his peripheral vision that Snape was now rushing down the corridors, looking very irate. As the professor swept up a flight of stairs, Harry had the fleeting urge to follow him. However, an Auror was a few feet away, watching him closely. Harry kept staring straight ahead and tried to look nonchalant; it worked, and the Auror didn't ask where he was heading.

When he got into the boys' dormitory, Neville was still reading his book. Telling his friend about his unbelievable luck, he inched over to his trunk, where inside his Invisibility Cloak and Marauders Map were longing to be used. Deciding that Neville would probably see his secret items if he tried to retrieve them now, Harry went back down to the Common Room to wait while Neville finished his book.

"Harry!" His name was called, and Harry looked around to find the source: Ginny, sitting in a large armchair by herself, with a Witch Weekly magazine in her lap.

"Lockhart's not in there, is he?" Harry joked when he plopped down beside her in another big scarlet chair.

She laughed. "No, not this time. I think after he lost his memory, he kind of sold out." She gave Harry a funny look. "Aren't you supposed to be at a detention or something?"

"Yeah," Harry answered with a grin. "Snape cancelled."

"He what?"

"Cancelled it. I think he had to go somewhere; I was in there and he was about to tell me my punishment when someone, I think Dumbledore, called him from his office. I don't know if it was Dumbledore, though - I passed him on my way to the dungeons, as he was leaving that direction. But there aren't a lot of people I know that sound very much like him."

"Yes, he does have a kind of distinct voice... Couldn't he have been talking to Snape through the fireplace?"

"Yeah, I guess so. That was probably what it was, then... Snape left right after I did; I saw him stalking through the halls, and he looked really ticked."

"I wonder what he's up to?" Ginny said, playing with the coverlet on the arm of her lounger.

Harry shrugged. "No idea..."

"So, are you completely out of your detention, then?"

"No, I have to have it rescheduled for some other time."

"Ah, can't get too lucky, I suppose."

Harry looked around, not sure what to say now. "So... Where's Veronica?"

"Oh," Ginny rolled her eyes. "You know her, typical half-veela. She went out to try to tan by the lake. Do you know how cold it is out there?" She shook her head in disbelief. "Anyway, she's probably surrounded by boys by now. If I didn't know how smart she was or how bold, I'd swear she wasn't a Gryffindor."

Neville came walking down the stairs at that moment, and Harry wasn't sure whether he wanted to go to Hogsmeade and meet up with his friends, or stay with Ginny and talk for a while. Deciding it wouldn't hurt to hang about a bit longer, he sat back and began conversing again.

~*~

The time flew past Harry as he talked to Ginny, and before he knew it the clock above the fireplace was tolling off three chimes: it was three o'clock. He looked up at the ringing clock, startled, and then saw Ginny looking at him out of the corner of his eye.

"Have somewhere to go?"

"Yeah, I do..." Harry wasn't able to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

"Well, I don't want to keep you," Ginny said, looking down at her Witch Weekly magazine, which had been cast on the floor long ago, forgotten. She bent over and picked it up, flipping it open to a long article in the middle and a picture of a young boy on the opposite page.

Harry smiled. "Thanks." He stood up and started to walk away, but then on impulse turned around and said, "Ginny?"

She looked up at him, smiling, her eyebrows raised probingly. "Hmm?"

"Er, thanks for talking with me. It was fun."

Harry felt himself irritatingly turn a bit red as she smiled even wider and said simply, "Anytime."

He nodded his head, watched her for a second, and then bolted up the steps to the boys' dorm. He grabbed his Invisibility Cloak and Marauders Map with ease, as nobody was in the room now, and shoved them into his knapsack. He slung the bag over his shoulder, descended the stairs, and made his way through the Common Room, careful to make his eyes avoid wandering in Ginny's direction.

When he got into the hallway, Harry realized he had to get somewhere where the Aurors wouldn't see him so that he could put his Invisibility Cloak on and use the Marauders Map. Deciding the best place to get some privacy was the boys' bathroom, Harry quickly made his way through the corridors, trying not to look suspicious, and finally made it to the restroom a few minutes later.

Squatting down and skimming the margin between the floor and the stalls' doors to make sure there were no other occupants than him, Harry quickly ran into the last stall and threw his Invisibility Cloak on. Then, he removed the Marauders Map from his bag and touched it with his wand while whispering, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Instantly, the parchment was flooded with lines that branched out of the center and took form until a total map of Hogwarts and its grounds covered it. Tiny colored dots, more than the usual amount because of the number of Aurors around and in the castle, bustled around the paper as they made their way through the school.

Harry stepped into the corridor outside of the bathroom and quickly and discreetly made his way to the statue of the one-eyed witch. He waited impatiently for a few minutes until there was nobody around, then tapped the witch, and, praying that he was still thin enough to fit through the small hole in the stone, Harry scrambled to get through the secret passage. He shimmied his body downwards for a few seconds and slipped trickily through the narrow opening - he was almost too big.

When Harry finally got to The Three Broomsticks, it looked as if Ron and Hermione were getting ready to leave. They looked up suddenly and then back down at their table as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened when Harry came running over and whispered, "I'm here." Ron got out of his side of the slightly hidden booth and stooped down as if to tie his shoe. Harry slid into the seat as far as he could and removed his cloak, making himself visible. He pushed the cloak and map into the small front pocket of his knapsack. Nobody had noticed.

Ron sat down again and looked at his watch. "Long detention, eh? What'd you have to do?"

"No," Harry said, "my detention was cancelled." He told them what had happened and of his suspicion that Dumbledore had been the person to call Snape away.

"I wonder what he could have possibly wanted?" Hermione wondered. "It couldn't have been something good, if Snape went as far as to cancel a detention."

Ron ordered three butterbeers, and brought them back to the table.

"So why did you take so long to get here?"

"Well," he started slowly, "when I first went to our room, Neville was in there reading, and I had to wait for him to get out before I went and got the cloak and map. So, I went downstairs and talked to Ginny for a while." His last sentence came out quickly, and he took a long swig of his frothy butterbeer before he could bring his eyes back to his friends.

Ron started to say something, but Harry heard a thud under the table, and Ron winced as Hermione gave him a warning look. "Oh," he said simply.

"Er, anyway," Harry said, keen on changing the subject, "Before my detention, I was in the room talking to Neville, and you'll never believe what he found out..."

"What?"

"You know that picture Hagrid gave me for my birthday this year? I couldn't figure out who those two people were, that one guy and one girl, and Neville showed me a picture of his dad - the guy is his dad!"

"Did he know who the girl was?" Ron said, putting down his now half-full tankard.

"No, I still don't know who that is... She looks so familiar, though..."

"Oy! A few glasses of your strongest over here, Rosy!"

Harry craned his neck around to see who was talking so loudly; whoever it was, a few other people were accompanying him: a woman and two men. They were sitting on the other side of the empty table next to Harry's booth, away from everyone else.

He recognized the woman; she was plain looking, yet not ugly. She seemed like she was somewhat muscular, and she had short brown hair pulled back off of her neck into a tight ponytail. It was the Auror he'd passed earlier in the hallway on his way back from Snape's called-off detention.

"Had a hard day, have you?" Madame Rosemerta asked when she set their drinks down on their table.

"No, not too bad, actually," one of the men replied, looking the waitress up and down.

"Just a long week. We've finally got our day off. McMurry here actually had the least number of delinquents today."

The man who had been eying up Madam Rosemerta smiled and raised his glass up in a salute, then drank about half of his draft in one guzzle.

"Well, if you need anything, don't be afraid to ask," Madame Rosemerta said as she winked at McMurry and went back to the bar.

"I reckon she's got something for me," McMurry said as he watched her fly a few drinks skillfully across the room.

"Dream on," the female Auror said as she rolled her eyes.

"Why wouldn't she, Caropolo? Is there something wrong with me?"

The woman, apparently Caropolo, laughed. "No, not something, a few things." She took a sip of her drink and scrunched her nose as she swirled her drink around. "A bit robust, this stuff is."

One of the other men, who hadn't talked yet, looked a bit more downcast than the others. "Have you all heard about what happened?"

Caropolo sighed. "Can't we get at least an hour away from this, Degroodt?"

"It's your job," the man, Degroodt, answered. "I can't believe this is all happening so quickly again. It's like the old days, isn't it Adams?" Adams, the man who had ordered the drinks, nodded his head.

"Two dead. It's a pity. I can't wait to catch those fools who did this."

Harry widened his eyes and glanced for the first time since the Aurors had arrived at Ron, beside him, and Hermione, sitting across from him. They were both listening, too.

Adams continued with his voice slightly lowered so that Harry had to strain to hear. "And you do know - that wasn't the first Death Eater uprising that's happened lately. I heard there was another one, near the Minister's house. A few people think they were actually aiming for the Minister; I say they were just trying to scare him. I can't believe he still refuses to acknowledge what's going on, but takes the steps to get away from that town." He shook his head.

"That's just like him, though, isn't it?" Caropolo commented, taking another sip of her drink.

"True," Degroodt agreed. "There's just got to be some way to get these Death Eaters." Degroodt set down his glass and looked up - directly at Harry. Harry quickly looked down, but it was too late. The Auror coughed, and Harry could almost see in his mind the gesture Degroodt was making to his fellow Aurors, to let them know he'd been eavesdropping.

There was a scrape of a chair, and when Harry looked up again, McMurry was towering over his table. Hermione let out some kind of squeaky sound, and Ron just turned white.

"Hello," McMurry said gruffly. "Doing well tonight?"

"Er," Ron said. The other Aurors were all watching intently.

"I don't suppose you three heard our conversation, did you?"

"A little bit, yes," Hermione spoke up with timid eyes.

McMurry shook his head slowly. "I see." He looked at Harry. "Harry Potter, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Harry responded right away.

He shook his head again. "Well, then, if I'm correct in my information then you all already have a good idea what we're talking about." Harry nodded in assent.

"I suppose it wouldn't do any good, then, to tell you to forget about what you heard. What you did hear, however, isn't anything to be repeated; we'd appreciate it if you didn't. It wouldn't be very good for us...or you...if this rumor was around the school tomorrow."

"No problem," the three chorused nervously.

McMurry smiled. "Good." He strode back to his table, where his fellow colleagues were still watching the trio intently.

"Rosy," Adams spoke up, "We're done here."

Madame Rosemerta said goodbye to them as they placed their money on the table for their drinks. They left, and Hermione exhaled loudly.

"Well," she said, "that was certainly interesting."

"There's Death Eater activity, then," Harry stated, unintentionally slamming his mug down. "Two died."

Ron cleared his throat. "It was bound to happen sooner or later."

"Well, I'm not going to let it go on," Harry said stubbornly, standing up and going towards the bar to retrieve their bill from Madame Rosemerta.

Hermione shook her head, watching Harry wait for the total to come up. "There's nothing he can do about this."

"We know that," Ron said as he pulled out a few silver Sickles. "But he won't accept that yet."

It wasn't too much later when Harry, Ron, and Hermione returned back up the long, winding driveway to Hogwarts castle. There wasn't too much talk on the way home; everyone was caught up in his or her thoughts of the Aurors' talk and what it all could possibly signify. There were Death Eaters rising, that was for sure, and there were two people dead. Harry was surprised at how quiet their deaths had been kept; if there had been those two murders without much controversy about them, then how many others were there that he didn't know about yet?

~*~

Harry walked heavily into the Potions classroom. He'd been dreading this day since he'd been excused from his last detention with Snape. He would be reassigned a new detention, one which would most likely be much worse than the one he should have had. Because he had been so lucky as to get an acquitted detention from Snape, it was a sure thing that the stringent teacher would make the replacement one something to talk about amongst the students.

The class flew by even though they were preparing one of Harry's least favorite potions, a Depressing Drought. By simply standing near it, you experienced some of its dismal effects and felt downhearted. This didn't help Harry's already grim spirit.

When class was dismissed, everyone made their way in a hurry to get out; they tried to laugh and talk with their friends in efforts to raise their moods. Harry, however, after telling Ron and Hermione to wait for him outside the exit, scuffled up to Snape's front desk.

Snape barely even regarded him; he continued to write whatever he was writing, and didn't even look up at Harry until he cleared his throat loudly.

"Impatient, are we?" Snape sneered. He put his quill down and sat back in his chair. "Your detention, which uncontrollably had to be called off, of course needs to be re-established." Snape opened a black leather-bound volume with glinting gold trim; it was a date book, which appeared not to be very full.

"I think tomorrow, all day, will do just fine. Arrive at 9 A.M., sharp." He snapped the book shut.

Harry fought back the urge to yell very loudly in frustration; there was Quidditch practice every Saturday, and his captains were not going to be very happy that he had to miss it tomorrow... And the thought of spending an entire day in detention with Snape was not very appealing.

Gritting his teeth, he replied, "Alright." Snape, with a very smug look on his face, picked up his quill and began to finish composing his document. Assuming he was finished, Harry plodded to the open door where he could see Ron and Hermione across the hallway, still lingering.

"Oh, and Mr. Potter," Snape's voice said in a malignant tone, "Do be prepared for a good bit of work. Bring a bag; you'll need it." Harry glared at the spiteful professor, whose head was still bent as his hand continued to dance over the parchment.

"Yes, sir," he hissed as he rushed out the door before one of the many imprecations in his mind was blurted out.

"What did he give you?" Ron asked as Harry stalked past him and Hermione. They walked beside him, trying to keep the same pace. "You look pretty ticked."

"Tomorrow - all day. I'm going to miss Quidditch practice and waste my whole Saturday with that dolt."

"Fred and George won't be too happy about that, will they?" Harry glared at Hermione - even she knew how much Fred and George were into the Quidditch season this year. "Don't get mad at me," she defended herself. "I'm not the one who fought with Malfoy and earned you a detention."

Harry rolled his eyes and groaned. Tomorrow was going to be a very long day.

~*~

Harry sighed angrily as he walked through the castle to get to the Potions dungeon. He couldn't remember the last time he'd visited the classroom so often in such a short amount of time; if anything, he tried to avoid it as much as possible.

It was still early yet, and not too many people were in the hallways. In fact, when Harry had gone to breakfast at 8, there had been barely anyone in the Great Hall. It was too bad he didn't have the luxury of sleeping in that morning...

Snape was immersed in one of his large cabinets against a stone wall and appeared to be searching for some certain ingredient. Fighting the urge to push him into the wooden cabinet, lock the door, and Banish the key, Harry trudged to the cupboard and said, "Professor Snape, I'm here."

Snape turned around and observed Harry. "You brought a bag; good." Harry nodded and shifted his empty knapsack on his shoulder, wondering what fate awaited him and what he'd need his backpack for. Snape didn't make him wait long.

"I'm doing my monthly re-stock of potion ingredients. In these cabinets," he gestured to the countless wooden closets lining the walls completely around the dungeon, "is most of my supply. You will be checking every bottle to see whether the elements need to be replaced or are still functional. You can find the identity of the ingredient on the bottom of its container, on a white label, where there is also the date on which it was bottled.

"This book," he picked up a hefty, overly used encyclopedia off the floor near him, "lists all identifiable potion ingredients and how long they can be utilized before they expire. You must check each ingredient's date and its amount of time it has until it is bad, and determine if it is still useable or not. If it is, you will be placing them on that table over there," he motioned to a table close by, "and then replacing them in the cabinets in alphabetical order and by date.

"If the substance has gone bad, and is to be thrown out, you put it on that table," he pointed out a table opposite the other one where the good ingredients were going to be. "At the end of the day, you will have to carry all of the bad potions in your bag out to the disposal area behind the castle."

"Disposal area?"

Snape rolled his eyes. "Yes, Potter. The garbage has to go somewhere; even though we're wizards, we can't simply make it vanish, especially not some of these compounds. The area is found outside of the door at the end of the hallway adjacent to this one."

Harry nodded, wondering how much more work Snape was going to make him do, and whether the directions could get any longer. It was already rotten enough; the boring work would keep him busy for the full day, most probably, and would be tedious and tiring. Just thinking about it made Harry bored. And the disposal area... Hogwarts was huge, and Harry didn't want to even think about how much waste was produced daily, let alone the sewage released there...

"I'll be at my desk working, so I can keep an eye on you - this project is to be taken very seriously; I believe I explained myself thoroughly enough that you should have no questions." Without even waiting for an answer as to whether he did indeed have a question or not, Snape marched to his desk and sat down, immediately busy. Harry heaved a sigh, put his bag down, and began to work.

It proved to without a doubt be very wearisome, and Harry's back was very quickly beginning to ache from stooping down in the cabinets and flipping through the book to check the expiration dates. The worst part, he thought, was all of the unheard-of ingredients he came upon. Most of them he had no clue as to what they were, and some of them looked very much like the entrails of creatures; others Harry didn't even want to know what they really were, and was thankful that the names gave away no answer.

It was rounding to the third hour when there was a knock on Snape's dungeon door. Harry looked up to see who it was, and almost dropped the jar of maggot larvae he was holding when he saw whom the visitor was: Arabella.

At first, she didn't even notice Harry in the corner of the room, but when she saw him she hesitated to speak, and then asked Snape if they could talk in his office. Snape led her to his office and let her in, and then closed the door as he followed her, blocking off the intriguing conversation behind the doors. Harry strained to hear, knowing in his mind that it was none of his business, but the curiosity overcame him. He couldn't hear anything more than a faint drone, however, and within a few minutes the voices stopped speaking and the two professors emerged from the enclosed room.

Snape was obviously angry. "It seems as though your detention will have to be called off again." Harry didn't fight against the smile tugging at his mouth; Snape was mad, and Harry didn't care if his smiling made him any more irate.

"I suppose I will have to reschedule it--"

"Actually," Arabella said, taking in Harry and the myriad of bottles surrounding him, "how long has he been here today?"

"Three hours," Harry said, confused at the fuming look Snape was shooting at Arabella.

"Well, by the handbook, it says one hour is the minimum for a detention; if it's been three hours, then it is already fulfilled."

"But--he hasn't finished the entire task."

"Really," Arabella said, cocking an eyebrow. "If you expect him to do all of this, it would take him a full two days, at the least."

Snape glared at Arabella. "Very well," he said at last, turning to Harry. "You're excused. Your detention is over. I suppose I wouldn't be able to trust you alone here anyway, after the other stunts you've managed to get away with around here, especially with a few certain potion ingredients."

The gillyweed, Harry thought. He hadn't stolen it, of course, but there was no use trying to convince Snape of that, or to even bring it up.

"Return to your Common Room."

Harry picked up his knapsack off the floor, and smiled at Arabella before he left the room. His interest was piqued; why did Arabella come visit Snape? Surely, it had to be for some important reason; the detention was cut short, and his godmother was now leaving the room behind him with her sallow colleague, walking quickly down the hallway...

Harry heard the two professors' voices as they talked quietly behind him, almost the whole corridor back; they turned right into another passage that branched off away from him. There was only one way to find out what exactly was going on...

He doubled back and went back down the hallway he'd just been leaving, and turned left into the hallway Arabella and Snape had gone down. He got to the end of it, and they were nowhere in sight; luckily, no Aurors were either.

Harry racked his brain for his next move; perhaps he should just give up, and not snoop around anyway. Then, Harry remembered something: his backpack. Inside the outer pocket, which he hadn't bothered to clean out since his trip to Hogsmeade, were two items that would help him greatly.

His Invisibility Cloak and the Marauders Map.

He pulled out the map and listened closely; it seemed like nobody was around, so he said the incantation and the map wrote itself. There they were - two dots, moving along a passage on the map, making their way towards the center of the castle. Harry searched the chart for the area in which he was - there weren't many people near him at all. Quickly, he flung his Invisibility Cloak around him and set off at a fast pace after Arabella and Snape. They were in the Great Hall now, and not moving.

Harry reached the Entrance Hall, breathless, and saw them standing in front the large stone gargoyle guarding the entry to Dumbledore's office. He got close enough to her Snape say with incredulity, "He told you the password and you forgot it?"

"It's not my fault; he changes the blasted thing every time."

"Let me try," Snape said in an irritated voice, walking up to the gargoyle. "Wolfsbane. Mugwort. Gormast."

"Severus, he wouldn't use potion ingredients."

"Do you have any better ideas?"

Arabella walked up to the gargoyle, thinking for a moment. "Treacle fudge. Licorice whip. Sugarquill." Instantly, the gargoyle sprang aside, and Arabella smiled triumphantly. She walked forward, Snape in tow, and disappeared as the winding stairs wound her up and out of sight.

So, it was to Dumbledore's office that Snape had to hurry to... But why? Harry wondered. He looked down at his map and saw that Arabella and Snape weren't the only people in Dumbledore's office, but many other small black dots were moving around inside of the small box drawn on the parchment, too many crammed in that small space to even make out what their names were.

The lure to say the password to the guardian gargoyle, which he'd just heard Arabella say clearly, was enormous - if he did, Harry would be able to find out what was going on. It was so tempting, in fact, that it almost hurt as he walked away slowly, away from his curiosity and any trouble it would get him into - or any vital information it could have given him. He wasn't sure why there were so many people amassed in Dumbledore's office, but there had to be good reason for it. And later, when Harry told Hermione and Ron about what he'd encountered, they agreed.

There was definitely something outright peculiar happening at Hogwarts.