The Matchmaker

Ron and Hermione had dropped back away from Harry, hoping to fend off the attackers approaching from behind. Too cautious to turn around, Hermione silently hoped that her friends had been able to make it back onto the school grounds. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Ron dodging curses on her right. She had just decided to go and help him when something stopped her.

Sensing movement out of the corner of her eye, Hermione turned sharply to her left, wand at the ready, only to find herself wand to wand with none other than Draco Malfoy. "Well, if it isn't the mudblood," he drawled. The wind tossed his white-blond hair about on his head as his steely eyes glared at her.

"What do you think you're doing?" Hermione asked angrily. The last thing she had time for right now was Malfoy looking for a petty fight. He probably figured in all of the chaos that he could get away with attacking them and no one would notice. But then again, Crabbe and Goyle were nowhere to be seen, and Malfoy had never tried to pick a fight on his own before.

"Granger, as much as I'd hate to stay and chat, I've got something to take care of," Draco said suddenly. "So get out of my way before I have to hurt you."

"I'd like to see you try," a slightly familiar voice growled from behind Hermione, startling her. Her wand, which she still held pointed at Malfoy, shook slightly. And then she realized who had come to her rescue.

"Trying to save all of your friends, Weasel?" Malfoy asked maliciously. "I promise you, you may be able to protect the mudblood here, but even if I can't get to Potter, someone will."

Hermione could see the color rising in the pale boy's face. He really did seem to be getting frustrated that they were keeping him from something. She didn't have time to dwell on it though, for just as she knew without looking, Ron's temper was getting the better of him.

"You filthy, little..." Ron yelled.

Hermione quickly scanned her brain for a hex to use. She knew that Ron was trying to protect her but if he didn't do something quickly, she knew she would have to. She watched in horror as Malfoy started to cast a curse. Even in his temper though, Ron was quicker.

"Petrificus Totalis!" Ron shouted, sending a burst of red light toward Malfoy. They were standing so closely to each other, Draco had no time to move out of the way. He froze up completely, his arms and legs pinned to his body, and fell straight forward like a stone. Hermione had just enough time to scamper backwards out of the way before Malfoy's face landed with a crunch where her shoes had been only moments before. She felt Ron's large hand come to rest on the small of her back as she stared down at the frozen student in front of her.

"How did you...?" Hermione muttered as her eyes narrowed in thought. "Ron, we never learned that spell in class."

"Yeah, I know," said Ron, giving her a crooked grin. "I guess I must've picked it up somewhere."

Hermione's face turned pink and she gave him a small smile as Harry and Ginny came running up the path behind them.

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had wasted no time in rushing Harry back onto the school grounds. Luckily, they had not run into any more Death Eaters. It seemed that they had decided to gather in Hogsmeade to face off against the teachers. As soon as they had gotten safely inside the castle, the three of them stopped to catch their breath, watching in tired resignation as Harry continued to storm off toward Gryffindor Tower.

Anger and frustration warmed his blood as Harry walked quickly through the hallways. He felt completely useless. Why did everyone insist on treating him like a child that had to be protected? They were as bad as Sirius had been. And look where it had gotten him. Sirius had been too worried about protecting Harry to worry about taking care of himself. His death was all Harry's fault, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Shaking off his thoughts about his godfather and swallowing the large lump in his throat, Harry gave the password for the Fat Lady and went through the portrait hole, slamming the picture closed behind him. He could hear her high-pitched voice admonishing him from the other side, but he didn't care. The common room was mercifully vacant, with only a small number of younger students scattered around. Slipping off his robe and throwing it over the back of a chair, Harry sank down into it. He was not looking forward to the appearance of his three friends, but there was no sense in trying to go hide in his dormitory. He knew Ron would come up and find him anyway.

Ron. Who the hell did he think he was anyway? What gives him the right to tell me what to do? Harry thought angrily. This was not how their friendship worked. Harry was the one who came up with the, admittedly often hare-brained, schemes. Ron and Hermione had always followed dutifully along. Why did they suddenly feel the need to keep him out of danger? It was going to happen eventually; he would have to face Voldemort sooner or later. He should never have told them about that stupid prophecy. I should have just let them take me and gotten it over with, Harry thought sullenly. Would have been better than running away like a coward.

Harry continued to seethe in the chair, staring at the fire morosely. He did not notice Ron, Hermione, and Ginny come quietly into the common room, followed closely by other groups of silent students trailing through the portrait hole. As the movement around him increased, Harry finally looked up to see the common room almost full of third through seventh year students. Many of them looked very haggard, with tears in their robes and visible scratches and bruises. Some people had dark black soot on their faces and arms. They were very quiet, standing around in small groups, some people murmuring to themselves or whispering to each other. Seamus had his arms wrapped around Lavender, her tear-stained face pressed against his shirt. Other couples were holding hands, as were Ron and Hermione, Harry noticed, although the strangeness of this occurrence did not register in his brain. Harry observed that almost everyone looked completely shell-shocked, which made sense considering the ordeal they had just gone through. Unlike Harry, it was obvious that his peers were not used to being thrown into such a dangerous situation.

Across the room, Harry saw Ginny leaning against the wall, her arms wrapped protectively around herself. She looked very pale and small, and he was immediately reminded of how she had looked in the Chamber his second year. Forgetting his anger, Harry wanted nothing more than to go comfort her, wrapping her in his arms and telling her that everything would be ok. She looked like she really needed that right now, but he couldn't do it. Something was holding him back from Ginny, some invisible force that he couldn't put a name to. She looked up suddenly, her windblown hair falling back off of her face, and her brown eyes caught his. Harry could see the fear and anguish she was fighting to keep hidden, and he was surprised that the attack had frightened her so much. She had not seemed scared at all last year in the Department of Mysteries.

At that moment, Harry heard the portrait open again, and all eyes in the room turned to see who it was. Professor McGonagall walked in, her gait lacking its usual briskness. She looked very tired, and a few hairs had fallen from her bun. Harry realized suddenly that she was the reason everyone had gathered in the common room. She seemed to be preparing herself to make some sort of announcement.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and glancing around the room warily. Not a breath could be heard in the common room as she spoke. "As I'm sure most of you are aware, the village of Hogsmeade was indeed attacked by Death Eaters today. The reason for the attack is unclear," Yeah, right, Harry thought. "But many shops were destroyed, and people were injured. A number of Gryffindors were taken to Madame Pomfrey to tend to their injuries, but overall our house was quite lucky. I'm afraid I have to tell you," she went on in a shaky voice, "that Marcus Summerby, a fifth year Hufflepuff, and Orla Quirke, a third year Ravenclaw, were killed today."

A collective gasp of shock and surprise tore through the group. A few strangled sobs could be heard, presumably from the students that had known them. Oh God, no, thought Harry, dropping his face into his hands and then running them up through his dark hair. He looked up just in time to see a flash of red out of the corner of his eye as Ginny escaped the somber atmosphere and retreated up the stairs to her dormitory.