Harry Potter and the Psychic Serpent

Harry Potter and the Psychic Serpent

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Transfiguration

Harry had been watching Ron's mouth, waiting for that second when it started to open, ever so slightly. Sandy had told him what to expect. He'd done this in the Dueling Club, trying to be a step ahead of his opponent. As soon as he saw that slight movement, he began the now-familiar divorce process, separating his mind and body. He seemed to be rising, floating up and away, away from corporeal cares and concerns.

"CRUCIO!"

The cry echoed through the forest, but to Harry, it was growing fainter and fainter, as his ears seemed to be filled with cotton, his nose and mouth filled with cotton, his fingers and every inch of skin, his muscles and every bit of him down to his bones strangely insensate. He found that he was in fact floating above his own body, looking down on Ron and Hermione and the Malfoys and Pettigrew. There was a thread of amber light that connected the wand in Ron's hand to Harry's body. He watched that dynamic thread with fascination, at the way it slowly crackled and jumped. Ron's mouth was still open, he was finishing pronouncing the curse. Everything looked like it was moving oddly sluggishly to Harry, in this floaty universe. He saw that Hermione was looking at him--or, rather, at his body--with her mouth forming an O of horror. Perhaps she was screaming again; he had no way of knowing. Whether her horrified expression was because this was Ron, their friend Ron whom they loved, putting the Cruciatus Curse on him, or whether it was because that meant she was the one he'd chosen to kill, Harry did not know.

Then, also moving with what seemed to be excruciating slowness, Draco Malfoy turned and pointed his wand at his father. As he turned, his hair flew up and stayed momentarily suspended in the air longer than it should have, as though he were moving underwater. Another crackling ray of light was emitted gradually from Malfoy's wand; after what seemed like an interminable wait, it reached his father. Harry saw his mouth moving lethargically.

STU-PI-FY....

Lucius Malfoy dropped his wand, which seemed to float down to the ground like a feather, and then he began to fall with an impossible slowness. Harry saw Pettigrew turn his head with a laconic air that made him seem rather bored. He pointed his wand at Draco Malfoy, and Harry saw that now he was the one moving his mouth to form the dreaded curse.

CRU.... the mouth began. Ron lifted the wand, breaking the connection between it and Harry.

-CI.... Pettigrew's mouth formed the next sound. Malfoy was still watching his father fall. Ron then pointed his wand at Harry again.

-O.... the mouth finally formed the last sound required to finish the spell. As the amber thread of light arced inch by inch through the air, Harry saw Ron moving his lips again.

Fi--ni--te...

The curse struck Malfoy from behind, as his father had done with Ron. He threw his head back slowly, sinking to the ground as if he were a marionette being carefully lowered to the earth, except that Harry could see the agony on his face, his features evolving from normal to tortured bit by bit, as though Harry were seeing a film, frame by frame, of a man being eviscerated.

In--can--

Draco Malfoy's body hit the ground finally, his mouth open in a silent scream--at least to Harry, who was still altered, still divorced from his body, existing out of time, apart from the world in which these languorous creatures lived.

--ta--tem....

Ron finished and pointed Harry's wand, sending an azure thread of light arcing through the air to where he was still bound. The vines slowly leapt away from him and, seeing this, he willed himself to slide back down into his body. He was jolted by suddenly having his hearing back; the first thing he heard was Hermione's scream, already in progress, and Draco Malfoy's agonized yelling, forming a macabre duet. Both seemed likely to go on for some time; in fact, it almost immediately began to seem like background noise to him.

Ron was standing very close to him, looking down into his face. "You back?" his best friend asked simply, leaning in so Harry could hear. Harry nodded, blinking, disoriented. Everything seemed to be moving at lightening speed now. In a swift, all-encompassing glance, he saw Lucius Malfoy lying on a carpet of leaves, stunned, and Draco Malfoy writhing in agony on the ground, while Pettigrew kept his wand trained on him.

Then Harry willed it, and it was so; it was his fastest transfiguration yet. It was so fast he had no chance to think of the pain. His paws struck the ground, but only for a split second before he was running to the spot near the fire where Pettigrew stood. He turned, a look of abject terror blossoming on his features as Harry leapt into the air, preparing to knock the man to the ground, breaking the curse that would have reduced Draco Malfoy's brain to pulp if it continued for much longer.

But when Harry landed, all four of his feet were on the ground, not the wizard's body; standing trembling under his stomach was a dung-colored rat with a silver paw, looking up at the apparent lion standing over him for only a moment before giving a strangled-sounding squeak and running toward the trees, all four paws moving too fast to be seen.

After a moment's hesitation, Harry gathered his wits and followed the rat. He had practiced flying, taking several steps along the ground before leaping into the air, but he had never before simply run with four legs. He couldn't have flown in the forest; his wingspan was too great, and if he flew above the trees, he wouldn't be able to see the small rodent. Harry let his animal instincts take him over, his paws moving surely and rhythmically under him, a rolling sensation like flowing water. He felt his hide rippling with his footfalls, felt his mane flying out behind him. The trees were mere blurs. Running on four legs was wonderful he quickly decided, but the thought passed as he strained to keep up with the rat, blending in perfectly with the forest floor, except for the silver paw which flashed as he ran, giving Harry a sure way to stay on course.

Harry did not know how far or in what direction they'd been running. The rat could corner faster than him, being much smaller, and he did this often, making up for the fact that his tiny paws would have been quickly outpaced by Harry's stride if they'd only gone in a straight line for long enough. Each time the rat changed direction, Harry did too; it took him longer to adjust, though, and he was starting to tire. Harry kept his eyes to the ground about twenty feet in front of him, watching for the flashing silver paw. It took him a while to realize that he was seeing in the dark, that he could see in the dark. He wondered whether he would run into any of the fiercer residents of the forest, but then threw out that idea as unworthy of concern; he would be able to vanquish any creature he came across in his griffin form, he was sure.

As he continued to run, he reveled in the feeling of invincibility running through his veins. I can do this, he thought. I can get Pettigrew at last, and clear Sirius' name. The rat changed course again, and ran into a clearing. Harry's eyes adjusted just a split second too late to the brightness in the clearing, from the enormous fire in the middle. He hadn't noticed it; he'd been wholly focused on following the rat, who was now running under something brown that looked oddly like the arch of an enormous foot. He was going into a space that was a mere one foot off the ground; Harry would not fit in such a space. He started trying to go around the obstacle, to find where Pettigrew might have to come out on the other side, but suddenly, a great hand swooped out of nowhere, picking Harry up around the middle while he squirmed and writhed in its grip.

"'Ere now," said a booming voice above him. "What 'ave we 'ere? A lion? What the 'ell?"

But Harry didn't have any time to waste; Pettigrew was getting away, might already be impossible to find in the legion of trees. Harry opened his mouth in a protesting roar, then brought his sharp teeth down on the giant's hand, between thumb and forefinger, which is soft, sensitive skin even on a giant. The giant roared in pain and flung him off. Harry flew across the clearing, striking a large tree hard, his head and side aching acutely as he slid to the ground and promptly changed back to a human, teenage boy with black hair and green eyes. He looked up at the amazed behemoth for a moment before the darkness overcame him.

* * * * *

He was aware first of the voices. It would be impossible not to notice them; even a person who had lost his hearing or had never had it would feel the rumbling vibrations coming up through the ground, through his bones. The sound was hurting his head; he was starting to wish he was deaf, or maybe he was wishing he were dead, dead rather than a failure, rather than having let Peter Pettigrew get away again...

He slowly opened his eyes, seeing a crowd of stars in a sapphire sky. He tilted his head to his left and saw an enormous fire with a makeshift spit constructed of a long branch resting on two Y-shaped saplings half again as tall as he was. A large animal was roasting on the spit, fat dripping into the flames, but Harry couldn't make out what it was without the head and hide. His first thought was to be disgusted, but his second was that the roasting meat smelled heavenly, and he felt his stomach move within him in primal, feral need.

He turned his head to his right and saw a familiar face. When she saw that he was awake, her face was wreathed in smiles and she put a tentative finger on his cheek. It was the size of his leg. "There yeh are, Harry. I was startin' ter worry..."

"Fridwulfa!" called another one of the giants. He strode into the firelight and squatted down next to Harry. "What the 'ell do yeh think yer doin'? Yeh should have left'im somewhere far away from the camp! Humans aren't supposed ter know we're 'ere!" The voice was like an explosion, or a mountain being hurled at another mountain. Harry held his head in pain at the noise of it.

"Sssssh!" Hagrid's mother cautioned him. He realized now that she had been speaking (for her) in a whisper, so as not to deafen him. Harry tried to get up, but the best he could do was to prop himself on his elbows so he could look around the camp properly. There was a sharp pain in his ribs on his right side when he did this. He assumed that was from striking the tree when he was thrown; probably more than one broken rib. He gritted his teeth and looked around the clearing.

This was a much larger space than the place where he'd been tied up with Ron and Hermione. He'd been unable to judge its size from the air. The fire alone was the half the size of Hagrid's cottage. He wondered whether it was a magical fire, requiring no fuel, or whether, after they'd let it burn long enough, there would actually be any forest left for them to hide in.

The giant who had come over to Hagrid's mother seemed bigger than she was, maybe half a head taller. He was ruddy, with long, unruly dark brown hair, one continuous eyebrow above his bulbous, warty nose, and glittering dark eyes. The rest of his face was hidden behind a tangle of beard and mustache that could have hidden a large community of vermin--and perhaps it did. Harry had to make a great effort not wrinkle his nose at the giant's smell. He tried to tell himself that there couldn't very well be many places where someone so large could bathe, but on the other hand, Hagrid's mum wasn't reeking like that...

"Well," she said to him in an indignant whisper, "ef you'd keep yer voice down, it would be a good start! Pro'bly heard you clear over in Hogsmeade! He's one o' Rubeus' friends, and he needs help." She drew herself up to her full height, glaring at him, and Harry sincerely hoped they would both watch where they put their feet, so they wouldn't crush him. He didn't feel able to stand yet. He was aching all over, but he didn't think it was from being a golden griffin so much as being hurled against a tree by a giant--the same giant standing before him now.

"All right, all right," Fridwulfa's companion grumbled more quietly than before; now he was merely the volume of a thunderstorm. He had a large, dirty piece of cloth wrapped around his hand, bright blood showing through it. He waved the hand at Harry.

"Can yeh tell me what the 'ell 'appened to the damn lion what bit me 'and? I looked where I thought 'e should be, and there you were, 'alf dead, and not the good 'alf." He squinted at Harry for a second and then said, as an afterthought. "Name's Orst."

Harry nodded at him. "Harry," he said weakly.

"What?"

"I said, 'Harry!'" Harry shouted, then started coughing from the effort. Fridwulfa moved to pat him on the back, but he waved her away; it was bad enough having Hagrid do that, let alone his mum. It felt like his ribs were pushing directly into his right lung. So she pushed toward him what looked to Harry like a tub of water--Harry supposed it was supposed to be a drinking cup of some sort for the giants--and, wincing, he pulled himself to a standing position so he could lean over it and scoop his hands into the water. He brought his hands to his mouth, handful after handful. He hadn't realized how parched he was.

While he drank, Fridwulfa was lecturing Orst again, in her giant-whisper. "Yeh got ter be still ter hear humans, ye great blockhead! There's no call ter make'em shout. I din' have no trouble hearin'im, I din'."

Orst sat down by the fire, making the earth shake as he folded his legs economically underneath him. When he was settled, Harry felt like he could take a breath again. He looked up at Fridwulfa, still leaning on the edge of the cup of water.

"How long have I been here?" he wanted to know.

Fridwulfa looked up at the stars. "Night's about 'alf-spent, I'd say. You were in a bad way."

He pointed up at Orst's hand with the bloody cloth. "You want me to fix that?" He was feeling somewhat responsible. Orst looked at him suspiciously.

"You a doctor or som'ting?"

"No. A wizard. I go to the school."

Orst looked like he was considering this, and finally he unwrapped his hand and put it down on the ground near Harry. Harry took Ron's wand out of his robes and pointed it at the bite marks he'd left on the giant's hand. Madam Pomfrey had made sure that everyone who sat with Neville was proficient in medical binding charms, to prevent him bleeding too much if he hurt himself. After putting the charm on the giant's hand, he told Orst, "It won't bleed any more. But you'll still have to keep it clean while it heals."

"Thanks," he grumbled at Harry. Harry thought that had something to do with the 'keep it clean,' advice. He looked like he and cleanliness were not exactly on speaking terms. Harry reached up to run his hand through his hair, his usual nervous habit, but when he did, he felt above his right ear a bump that made him wince.

"I might have concussion, I suppose," he said to Fridwulfa. "And I think I have some broken ribs. I should go to the hospital wing..."

"Now, don' you worry. I can bind up yer ribs. Ye'll be back at the school in the mornin'. I'll take ye to Rubeus, and he'll take care o' ye. Righ' now ye need rest." She produced a strip of ecru cloth, and after struggling with the tiny buttons on Harry's robes, he took them off himself and pulled his shirt over his head. There was a purpling bruise on his lower right chest. Hagrid's mother wrapped the cloth several times around his ribcage and pulled it tight; Harry gasped at first, so she loosened it slightly. When it was tight but he could still draw breath (albeit painfully), he replace his shirt and put his robes back on as well. Despite the proximity of the huge fire, Harry felt a chill.

He looked up at Fridwulfa's face, so like Hagrid's. It was a comforting face, oddly motherly. Harry couldn't put his finger on it. He thought of how comfortable it was to be around Ron's mother, when she was bustling around the kitchen or sitting by the fireside reading the Daily Prophet aloud to her husband, or even lecturing the twins or sighing over Bill's hair. Other people's mothers, he thought. I'm always latching onto them...

The aroma of the roasting meat crept into his nostrils again and he breathed it in with a sigh. She picked up on it immediately. "Hungry?" she asked softly. He looked at the spit and nodded. "That there won' be done fer a while. This is all righ', though." She picked a bit of meat off of a carcass that was sitting on a sheet-sized napkin next to her, holding it out to Harry. He sat down again and reached up to take it from her. The morsel was the size of a small roast chicken to him, but it smelled savory and warm, and he held it firmly in both hands, ignoring how hot it was. He was too hungry to care.

Then he remembered, and lowered the meat, swallowing painfully. He tried to make sense of everything that had happened. Malfoy had said that Ginny was acting, that he wasn't really assaulting her, and he'd made Ron choose one of them to torture, and one to kill. But Sandy had told him that he was the one Ron was going to torture, and he'd been ready, he'd left his body behind and watched the odd, slow-motion scene play out before him, of Malfoy turning and stunning his dad as soon as Ron had cursed him, and then Wormtail coming around and cursing Draco Malfoy, while Ron stopped cursing him and released him from his bonds. He remembered chasing Wormtail through the woods, watching him run underneath Orst's foot, then being picked up by Orst, and then after biting him, being flung against a tree...

He brought the meat up to his mouth again; after blowing on it, he took another bite. It was gamy, vaguely liver-flavored. Maybe it was something's liver. He stopped thinking about that, chewing thoughtfully. Malfoy did it, he realized. He had gotten his dad. He had succeeded. While he, Harry, sat bruised and possibly concussed in the giants' camp, knowing that Wormtail was on his way back to Voldemort to tell him Harry Potter was an Animagus...

Harry Potter is an Animagus.

He'd never thought those words before. Not like that. It was odd. He still didn't think, I am an Animagus. And yet, when he saw Wormtail torturing Malfoy, his first instinct was to change to his Animagus form and chase him, predator and prey, through the primeval forest. And now Voldemort would know. He looked up at Orst, wanting to curse him, but instead he felt his eyes fill with tears; he couldn't have known. He just knew he saw a lion, of all things, come out of nowhere. He probably hadn't even seen the rat with the silver paw; a rat would be beneath a giant's notice, not even food. Orst probably cleaned things bigger than rats out of his teeth. If he ever cleaned anything out of his teeth. Harry winced and looked away from the giant.

He took another bite of meat, looking around the camp as he chewed. Three other giants had come to sit on the other side of the fire. One was whittling a large tree trunk into a tapered shape for some unknown purpose; another was turning the spit patiently, silently. They were both men. Another giantess was sitting with her cheek on her hands, staring at the fire listlessly. They don't seem especially happy here, Harry thought. He wondered where the others were, but looking down at the meat in his hands and at the carcass roasting on the spit, he figured they were probably out hunting. This lot must eat quite a load, he thought.

He only ate about half of what Fridwulfa had given him, and then he leaned over the cup of water and scooped some more into his mouth. He took a final handful of water, and after he took off his glasses, he splashed it over his face, then used his robes to dry off and replaced his glasses. He looked up at Hagrid's mother.

"Where shall I sleep?"

"C'mere me lad," she said in a comfortingly rumbly voice. She led him to an animal fur she'd laid out on the ground; it was grey with white streaks at the edges, and silky soft. When he'd lain down, she placed another hide with the same coloring on top of him, fur side down, so that he was sandwiched in softness. He pillowed his head on his arm, trying not to think about Wormtail getting away, or Ron knowing about him and Hermione. He closed his eyes, thinking of mothers, remembering his own mother in the Pensieve, tucking him into his cot and singing him a Welsh lullaby. The warmth of the fire and the furs lulled him into a deep sleep, where his mother was waiting for him...

* * * * *

Harry awoke to raucous birdsong. He opened his eyes and looked up, seeing a white, cloud-covered sky above the canopy of trees. He pushed the top fur aside, then sat up, pulling his knees up to his chin, wrapping his arms around his legs. His ribs didn't hurt as much this morning. The fire still burned; now something else was roasting on a spit. It looked like a series of hares skewered like shish kebab, making gamy smells waft through the camp. They must constantly have something cooking, he thought. The only giant he could see was Fridwulfa, a huge mound about ten feet from him, flat on her back and breathing deeply. Perhaps the other giants slept under the trees, deeper in the forest.

He gazed around the clearing, at how everything looked so different in the daylight. He realized that the only other time he'd slept outdoors was when he'd been with the golden griffin. The Dursleys had never taken him and Dudley camping; they'd never even taken Dudley camping, leaving Harry with Mrs. Figg. Aunt Petunia believed firmly that humans became human when they invented central heating and indoor plumbing and refrigerators and microwaves and coffeemakers and hairdryers, and if there was someplace in the world where those things didn't exist, it was a backwater and a hellhole and she wanted nothing to do with it. She thought Luddites were hopelessly backwards and right up there with the flat-earth lunatics and the psychotics who thought the American government had faked the moon walks. Voluntarily sleeping outdoors, on the ground, cooking over a fire food that had just been killed (meat came from the butcher) and bathing in a stream was simply beyond the pale.

Bathing in a stream...suddenly, Harry felt like that would be wonderful, but he didn't even know where there might be a stream nearby. Perhaps he should wait until he returned to the castle and take a shower. And he'd have to see Madam Pomfrey, to get his ribs healed first. He checked his watch; it was only six o'clock. He rose slowly and went to Hagrid's mother, wondering what was the best way to wake a giant.

He stood next to her ear, trying to decide what to say, when Orst came into the clearing, a brace of deer hanging from one hand. He flung the game down and pulled out a knife, presumably to begin skinning the carcasses.

"Orst!" Harry called, hoping for some help. The giant turned, looking around behind him, as though he suspected the trees had learned to talk. "Over here, Orst!" he called more loudly. The giant looked in the right direction now and nodded at him.

"Ah! Harry. Sleep well?"

Harry nodded. "Not too bad. But I really need to get back to my school. Can you wake Fridwulfa for me?"

He nodded and strode across the clearing, the ground shaking beneath Harry's feet. He shook Hagrid's mother, muttering, "Get up, ye lazy..."

She started to stir, mumbling incoherently. Harry backed up as she put her hands out to support herself, pushing herself up. When she had rubbed her eyes and managed to open them, she saw Harry and smiled.

"Well! Good mornin' then. Sleep well?"

He nodded. "The furs were very soft. I should probably get back to the castle, though. I hoped you could help me."

"O' course, dear lad. Be happy to." She rose to her full height and bent over, asking demurely, "Could I pick ye up?"

He nodded, and he sat on her finger, again straddling it like a broomstick. He looked at the giants' camp; it seemed forlorn, a sad place to live. And they were here most of the winter, he remembered. On the other hand, perhaps it was an improvement over the mountains of Ukraine and Georgia. He watched the camp disappear through the trees; Fridwulfa kept her right hand with Harry on it against her stomach, and pushed the trees aside with her left hand. It seemed that they traveled through the forest for a very long time when Harry could finally see the Hagrid's hut through the trees.

She set him down carefully. "There ye go, Harry. I can' go no closer. Got to stay in the forest. Tell Rubeus I'll see 'im later."

He smiled up at her. "I will. Thank you for everything."

"Any time," she said firmly. She started to turn away, then stopped and faced him again. "Harry? Can I ask ye a question?"

"What is it?"

"Well, when Orst asked ye about the lion, ye never answered. And not too long ago, I was tellin' Rubeus that I'd seen a golden griffin flyin' around above the trees, and that looks like a lion with wings. And then righ' after that lion turns up and bites Orst, ye're lyin' there, dead to the world with a nasty bump, as though it was you 'e threw against the tree, not a lion."

Harry looked up at her guiltily. He knew her secret. It would only be fair if she knew his. Plus, she was dropping great hints that she already suspected or knew anyway. He smiled sheepishly. "That was me. Both times. The griffin you saw flying and the lion that bit Orst. I'm a golden griffin Animagus, but when I don't have my wings spread they blend in with my coat and I look like a lion. But no one's supposed to know. You can't tell the other giants, even Orst."

She nodded and smiled. "I won't. Don' worry, me lad. Per'aps I'll see ye soon." With another fond look and a smile, she turned and pushed the trees out of the way again, disappearing back into the forest. Harry turned toward Hagrid's cabin and soon had reached the edge of the trees. He went to Hagrid's back door, knocking lightly. He checked his watch; it was seven now. It had taken almost an hour for Fridwulfa to get him here, and that was with the huge paces she could take. The giants' camp must be very, very deep in the forest, he thought. He had no way of judging this when he was in the air; flying gave him a completely different perspective on distances.

He heard Hagrid moving around in his house, then heard the front door opening. Hagrid had gone to the wrong door. He knocked again on the back door. More shuffling. He opened the right door this time, a shocked expression appearing on his face.

"Harry! What're yeh doing here? Are yeh all right?"

Harry nodded, staggering into the room, then sitting down heavily in a chair. "Need to go to the hospital wing. Is everyone else all right?"

Hagrid harrumphed. "I don' know ever'thin' that's goin' on, but it's mighty queer. Dumbledore can tell yeh more than I can. He an' Moody got back late las' night."

Harry nodded. "I'll see him soon, I'm sure. Can you--can you help me get to the hospital wing?"

Hagrid practically carried him to Madam Pomfrey, who clucked her tongue over the bump above his right ear, wanting to know how he'd gotten it.

"Um, I'd rather not say. I need to see the headmaster. And I think I broke some ribs."

Now she harrumphed. "He's finally back from London, and not before time..."

Harry furrowed his brow. She was being odd. Then he remembered that just the previous afternoon, he had carried Ginny into the infirmary, apparently in shock from being assaulted by Malfoy. Was Ginny really in on it all? "It" was clearly not the recruitment of Harry, not after what he'd seen in the forest. "It" was getting Lucius Malfoy put away. Harry laid back on the bed, wondering what the full story was.

Then he noticed that there were curtains pulled around three other beds in the infirmary. After Madam Pomfrey had put a healing salve on his ribs and a clean bandage (he also had refused to tell her where he'd gotten the soiled-looking rough cloth that had been binding his ribs), she left the room. He went to the first bed, pulling the curtain open slightly. Ron was there, resting on his back, snoring away in a white hospital smock, his feet hanging over the end of the bed. He looked peaceful and healthy and safe and Harry closed the curtain again, thankful that he seemed to be all right after Malfoy's dad put the Cruciatus Curse on him. He went to the next bed and opened that curtain a small amount. Hermione was curled up on her side; her eyes opened as soon as he parted the curtains, and a smile spread across her face. He sat on the edge of her bed, looking down at her, wondering what they would do next, how to go on after the revelations of the night before. She was under the influence of that potion for six months.

She pulled herself to a sitting position, yawning and stretching, her hospital smock moving in various interesting directions as she did this, making Harry catch his breath. She saw his eyes and smiled at him, putting her arms around him, her head on his bare shoulder. He tentatively put his arms around her, kissed the top of her head. They would have to take it a step at a time, he decided.

Then he heard the curtain to the bed next to Hermione's being opened, and there was the face of Draco Malfoy above yet another hospital smock, looking at them embracing, a strange sort of hunger behind his eyes. He shook himself, as if forcing himself to think about something else, and said by way of greeting, "So, Potter. Decided to join us in hospital. All done running around the forest as a lion, I see. Damn! Trust you to do something like become an illegal Animagus. You get away with everything."

"I'm not illegal. And I'm not a lion."

"What? You're sure as hell not registered. And I think I know a lion when I see one."

"I have permission from the Ministry to wait until after I graduate to register. McGonagall trained me, starting last fall. And a lion can't fly."

"Fly? What do you mean, fly?"

"I'm a golden griffin Animagus."

He opened his mouth and closed it again, shaking his head. "Unbelievable..." he muttered.

"And," Harry continued, "you're not to tell anyone about it. I was only trying to get Wormtail."

Hermione pulled back from him and looked at his face. "Did you?"

He shook his head sadly. "No. He went into the gi--" He looked at Malfoy. "Tell you later."

Malfoy looked at Harry, then Hermione. "What? Oh, come on, you can trust me." They looked at him skeptically. "You can! Didn't I get my dad? Didn't I say I would?"

Harry swallowed. "You didn't say how you were going to do it. Is--is Ginny all right?" He was almost afraid to ask, holding Hermione in his arms. She nodded.

"Yes. Turns out it was an act. And after she determined that the four of us had gone to the forest, she asked Madam Pomfrey to get Snape to come here to the infirmary, and she explained to him what the plan was, and apologized for her part in it, since--well, when that happens for real, girls that are really in trouble that way need for people to take them seriously. But she said it was her idea; she knew that Ron would go crazy, and it would feed into the plan. Snape and McGonagall flew to the forest on broomsticks, and they took enough extras for us to ride back Snape brought Malfoy's dad back. We had to fly way up above the trees...I think I liked the--other--flying better."

"So Ginny's not here?"

"She's back up in Gryffindor Tower. The Weasleys have stayed over. Oh, and we've all been given the day off from classes, if we like. I'm going though; please say you are too? I'm so glad you're back. I was terribly worried..."

She pulled his face down to hers and Harry clutched her to him, ignoring a twinge in his ribs, drinking her in. After a few moments, he opened his eyes and saw that Draco Malfoy was watching them with a smirk on his face.

"Um, do you mind, Malfoy?"

"Yeah, I mind. I mind that you think you can watch me and Ginny snogging, but I can't watch you two..."

"Malfoy, you said some--some bloody awful things last night. In fact, even if you were only acting like a total sodding bastard, you were doing a far-too-good job. I'm not really feeling like being charitable toward you just now."

"I said those things to Granger. It was part of my performance. And I apologized last night, after we got back, didn't I, Granger? Except for one thing--sorry I made you spew, Granger."

"Well," Hermione said sweetly, "you can't do much about your face."

"Ha ha," was Malfoy's rejoinder.

"So," Harry said, trying to forget the things Malfoy had said, since it seemed Hermione had gotten past it. "It really worked? Your dad's going to Azkaban?"

"He's still stunned, down in the dungeons. Ministry officials are coming later to get him. He'll be charged with multiple counts of trying to recruit people to be dark wizards, conspiracy to commit murder for ordering the hits on recruits' families, and putting the Cruciatus Curse on Weasley."

A sound behind him made Harry jump. It was Ron, coming around the bed. He stood there awkwardly, his hand on the mattress, looking at Harry and Hermione. His hospital smock was rather short, showing his pale, freckly, knobby knees. Harry pulled back from Hermione, sitting on the edge of the bed. He wanted to stand up and give his best friend a great hug, to show how glad he was that Ron was all right, but he looked in Ron's eyes and saw the hurt and betrayal there, and knew that it wasn't time yet. He was also suddenly self-conscious about having nothing on from the waist up, just his basilisk amulet, the bandages around his ribs, and, on his left arm, Sandy.

"Do you know how hard it is to sleep with you lot sitting over here yammering?"

Malfoy laughed. "I didn't think anything could wake you. Ginny says you sleep straight through all the noise that ghoul makes at your house."

Ron scowled. "I'm not sure I believe you about her..."

"I swear I have never done anything more than kiss her," Malfoy said, looking sideways at Harry. Well, Harry thought, remembering Malfoy's wandering hands on Ginny's birthday; It wasn't for lack of trying. "Do you want to see if a unicorn will go up to her? Do you?"

"All right, all right. Fine. You were just trying to get me wound up yesterday, I get that. What if I'd decided to kill you? Where would you be then?"

"Well, then I'd probably be at the ministry explaining why I'd killed you in self-defense," he drawled, clearly not lacking in self-confidence after the previous day's events. Ron swayed slightly, and Malfoy got up and pulled him over to sit on his bed. "Stupid git! Sit down! Having the Cruciatus Curse put on you is no laughing matter. You don't see me poncing around the room, and I've gone through it before." Harry tried not to smile; Malfoy's similarity to Snape was uncanny. Harry remembered Snape telling him to sit when he had come to his office after throwing off the pain of the Hara Kiri. That's what chairs are for, Potter.

The four of them sat in silence now, looking tentatively back and forth at each other. It reminded Harry strangely of the previous evening in the forest, Malfoy and Ron on one side, he and Hermione on the other. Suddenly Malfoy broke the silence. He looked at Harry, then Ron, shaking his head.

"I just cannot believe that the two of you have sex lives and I don't."

Ron smiled at him and suggested, "You could get a new girlfriend..."

Malfoy gave him a challenging look. "I could. I could, for instance, take your girlfriend...or Potter's..."

At that Hermione burst out laughing and fell back on the bed; she started to pound the mattress, helpless in the grip of the laughter. Her hospital smock had ridden up a little when she did this. Malfoy tilted his head to one side.

"When you do that, Granger, I can see your knickers..."

"Shut up!" Harry and Ron said simultaneously, while Hermione abruptly stopped laughing and sat up, pulling her Hogwarts robes off the chair beside her bed and draping them over her lap. So much for Malfoy only acting like a sodding bastard, Harry thought. While she was clearing her throat and starting to return to a peach color from her previous deep red, something else occurred to Harry.

"Ron--what exactly did Malfoy say to you, before you were untied? How did he convince you to go along with his plan, just like that?"

Ron grimaced and looked at Malfoy for a moment, then back at Harry and Hermione. "He told me that he'd never--slept with Ginny, he was only trying to get his dad put away--I don't even remember it all now--"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "I can tell you exactly what I said. I had to practice it enough ahead of time, and that was after writing something like ten drafts of it. I needed to make sure I communicated all of the necessary details as quickly as possible. My exact words were, 'Put the Cruciatus Curse on Potter. He can take it, he won't feel any pain. When you do, I will stun my dad and Wormtail. Take the curse off Potter and untie him and Granger. I never touched your sister; she's helping me put my dad in Azkaban.'"

Hermione snorted. "That took ten drafts?"

"Hey, I got my point across."

She looked at Ron. "So those things you said--" she said softly.

Ron looked uncomfortable. "Just trying to make it look good. Didn't want Malfoy's dad to suspect anything." But Harry remembered the way he'd spoken to her, the edge to his voice. There was a grain of truth to it. Those things didn't just come out of Ron's head at that moment; they'd been festering.

"But," Hermione said, looking perplexed. "You didn't stun Wormtail."

Malfoy grimaced. "Don't remind me. He was too damn fast for me. But what I want to know, Potter, is why can you do that pain-blocking stuff, and I can't? And it looked like Weasley couldn't, either."

Harry didn't answer the question. He still hadn't gotten an answer about that himself, from Snape, and he also hadn't dared to ask Dumbledore. But it didn't matter, because Ron was speaking instead. "I could do it a little in Moody's class," Ron told him. "But that was just the Passus Curse. And thanks for telling me your dad was going to do that. I really appreciate it."

"No need to get sarcastic, Weasley. I wasn't any better off than you. And I was hoping that you'd start the curse on Potter before that. You took so damn long..."

"Listen, just because you don't think twice about putting your dad in Azkaban, doesn't mean I don't think twice about putting a curse like that on my best friend, no matter how likely it is that he can take it!"

Malfoy looked at Ron in silent fury, and Harry wasn't completely certain that they weren't going to start rolling around on the floor again throwing punches. "That was the hardest thing I've ever had to do," he said softly to Ron. "If you think I did that without any thought..." He shook his head. "I don't have to justify myself to you. If you want to know why I planned this, why I wanted to do it for years, just ask your sister. Now get off my damn bed."

"Malfoy..." Hermione started. She clearly was over being ogled by him. "You know what the real reason is. Why you did it now, why you finally did what you'd only been thinking about for years..."

Malfoy looked at her; Harry was startled by the exposed expression on his face, how totally without artifice he was suddenly. He finally looked away from her, staring at his hands. "Ginny," he said simply. Ron looked at him for a second, then away.

"Did someone say my name?" Ginny came around Hermione's bed, smiling at Malfoy and Ron. "Look at the two of you! Sitting next to each other! Not fighting!" She sat down between them, and took their hands in hers. She looked back and forth between the two of them. "Well? Are you actually trying to get along?"

Ron and Malfoy glanced at each other behind her head. She turned and looked at Ron, while Malfoy stuck his tongue out at Ron and made a rude face. Ginny turned to look at Malfoy and he instantly converted his features into a beatific smile, while Ron returned Malfoy's rudeness with the middle finger of his left hand, out of Ginny's range of vision.

Harry tried to stifle a laugh, and suddenly Ginny jerked her head up, dropping Malfoy's and Ron's hands. "Harry!" she cried in surprise, standing. "You're back!" She pulled on his hand, and then he was standing and embracing her, his arms across her back, his face in her hair, so glad not to be comforting her after being attacked, to learn that she was never in danger, that she wouldn't be traumatized. He felt her fingers pressed against the bare skin of his back, above the bandages, and ignored the pain in his ribs as unimportant. Then he lifted his head and saw Malfoy and Ron looking at him; Malfoy's face looked stormy and Ron's slightly disgruntled and intrigued all at once. Harry released her and stepped back, sitting back down next to Hermione. He glanced at her for a moment; she was frowning, but she reached for his hand and laced her fingers through his, the frown fading from her face as she leaned her head on his shoulder again.

Ginny was just smiling happily still, and sat down between Ron and Malfoy again. Harry remembered the murderous thoughts he'd had while tied to the tree in the clearing, before Malfoy's plan had become clear. He remembered Malfoy talking about his seducing her, and her seducing him. He had believed it; now he wondered how he could have done that. He looked at her, recalling that Professor Sprout had said that she was a good girl, she wouldn't be needing any potion made from spleenwort. She looked as fresh-faced as ever, and he now also remembered her telling Malfoy that she wasn't on some schedule, "like a bloody train." She saw him looking at her and smiled back, a simple, friendly smile. But something was missing; he realized that she used to smile at him more tentatively, with a wistful hopefulness behind her eyes. Now that she had Malfoy, he realized, that was gone. Instead, when she smiled at Draco Malfoy, there was a serene happiness that made her glow as if lit from within; he returned her smile with a clear hunger in his gaze, a wistfulness of its own kind, but also a clear affection. For the first time, seeing that, Harry decided that he probably meant it when he said that he would never hurt Ginny. He was also clearly not interested in changing girlfriends.

"So," she said to Harry, still smiling sunnily. "Draco told me--you turned into a lion and went after Wormtail! Did you catch him?"

So Harry had to explain again that he was a golden griffin Animagus and that he hadn't caught Wormtail, although once again, he didn't mention the giants. The four of them were suddenly full of questions about the difficulty of Animagus training, and didn't hear the door to the infirmary opening and closing, nor the footsteps approaching them.

"Ahem!" came a familiar voice. It sounded remarkably like Aberforth, but Harry wasn't at all surprised to look up and find that it was the headmaster. They stopped talking suddenly, in the middles of sentences. Dumbledore looked at them strangely seriously.

"Harry! I didn't know you had returned. We were all very worried. You spent the night in the forest?"

"Yes, sir. I--I'll tell you about that later, if you don't mind."

"Yes, yes. I'm sure that will be interesting. But at the moment, you might want to get your robes..."

Harry leapt to his feet, crossing the infirmary quickly. Dumbledore waiting for him to button his robes and sit next to Hermione again.

"I have some news for our two suspended students," he said sternly. Malfoy and Ron jerked their heads up, looking alarmed. "Thought I'd forgotten about that, did you?" Then a slow smile spread across his face. "The news is that you aren't suspended. Last night you were all very informative about your various parts in the scheme to apprehend Lucius Malfoy. But you did all break a number of school rules along the way, and I'm afraid points will have to be deducted from your houses as a result..."

Their faces fell; Harry in particular thought how unfair it was that four of them were from Gryffindor. Their house would suffer the most. He thought of first year, when he and Hermione had been responsible for losing Gryffindor quite a lot of points when they were caught leaving the Astronomy tower after helping smuggle Norbert to safety. He wondered what kind of reception they would get in Gryffindor Tower when the news of their losing points for the house spread.

"First: Draco Malfoy. Seventy-five points from Slytherin for charming the doorway to the Charms classroom. Pranks are one thing; Professor Snape felt that leaving us without a Charms instructor for forty days, and leaving Ravenclaw without a head-of-house and a Seeker for their Quidditch team all because you did not do proper research may even be grounds for making you wait until next year to take your Charms O.W.L.s. However, Professor Flitwick talked Professor Snape out of that and insists he wants to let you sit for your tests this year, so consider yourself lucky. Another seventy-five points from Slytherin for staging that appalling little drama in the Potions dungeon. I never want to hear of such a charade again."

His eyes bore into Malfoy who swallowed and looked properly admonished, nodding and saying softly, "Yes, sir."

Now he turned to Ginny. "Virginia Weasley: Fifty points from Gryffindor for your part in the Potions dungeon play. I believe Professor McGonagall already gave you quite an earful about that last night, so I will say no more at this time. Suffice to say I am very disappointed in you." Ginny drew her lips into a line and nodded. Harry wondered what McGonagall had said; she could really go off when something touched a nerve with her, as this obviously had. She'd been quite upset when she thought Malfoy had attacked Ginny. He didn't imagine she would appreciate discovering how her emotions had been manipulated.

"Ronald Weasley." He looked up at the headmaster with that strangely mature expression Harry was still getting used to. Madam Pomfrey had healed all of his wounds, but he had some bruises on his cheekbones and jaw that wouldn't fade immediately. "Fifty points from Gryffindor for that fight in the Potions Dungeon. I understand you truly thought your sister in danger, but there were better ways to handle it. Suspension is the usual course of action in cases like this, but considering the other events of yesterday and the reason for you being provoked into the fight, I think I will leave the penalty at fifty points."

Ron nodded grimly at him. "Thank you, sir."

"Hermione Granger and Harry Potter!" Harry jerked his head up in surprise. Had he heard about their relationship? Were they going to be removed from the ranks of the prefects? "Twenty-five points each from Gryffindor for flying off to the Forbidden Forest--does no one remember the name of that place?--without telling anyone why or asking for help. What were you thinking?" But he didn't pause for an answer. He suddenly stopped looking grim and smiled as though he hadn't just deducted one-hundred and fifty points from each of their houses. Harry grimaced; when they got back to Gryffindor Tower, their names were going to be mud. And Malfoy would have to contend with the Slytherins alone. He didn't envy him--for many reasons.

Harry looked at Dumbledore now, confused by how cheerful he looked. He clapped his hands together and looked round at them all. "There. We've got the unpleasantness out of the way. Now for the good." He looked at Malfoy again. "Draco Malfoy. For concocting a truly Slytherin-like plan to put a Death Eater away who also happens to be your own father, three-hundred points for your house." Malfoy got a very cocky grin on his face and looked at Harry very smugly. Harry looked away.

"Virginia Weasley, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger: Fifty points each for Gryffindor for helping to bag Lucius Malfoy. And Harry Potter: One-hundred fifty points for Gryffindor for the excellent job overcoming, er, painful curses, the fine job you've done in your work to become an Animagus--which no one here will discuss with anyone, or I start throwing memory charms around--and," he paused and looked at Ginny again, "for helping Ginny when you thought she was in great need, rather than fighting."

He smiled at them all. "And finally, I decided that you all needed to have another bit of recognition to strengthen you in the times to come, so I just came up with this last night, and I hope you like it. I'm very fond of it myself, but--well, here it is."

He held up a small gold-colored brooch with the letters OP in the middle, flanked by wings with red enamel over the gold metal, and what seemed to be flames coming up from the letters, also with enamel, but rather than being a single color, the flames actually looked like flames, moving and changing every second, white and yellow and red and orange and sometimes even a little purplish-blue. They all stared dumbly at the headmaster, unsure what to make of this. He sighed and held it out to Ron, then took others out of his pockets and distributed them round to the rest of them.

"It's the Order of the Phoenix. Now, I know it's not the Order of Merlin, but I really couldn't nominate the five of you for that--you broke too many rules along the way." His eyes twinkled at them. "So I made up my own Order of the Phoenix, to recognize the work of people who have dedicated themselves to bringing dark wizards to justice. I know that to young people, an award like this is a piddling thing. It's not hundreds of galleons or a chance to meet your favorite Quidditch player, I'll grant you that. But it's my way of saying thank you, that I think we're fighting on the same side and that I trust you to do the right thing. Oh, and I'm also having some house elves work on some lovely parchments that can be framed and hung on the wall. Paid house elves," he said pointedly, looking at Hermione.

He smiled round at them all, even Malfoy, Harry noticed, who actually seemed to have some color in his face after Dumbledore's speech.

"You are the first members of the Order of the Phoenix. I am very proud of you all. I know that this has been difficult for you, but there is one more difficult thing that you must do soon." He looked at each of them in turn. "There will be a trial at the Ministry of Magic. You will probably be called to be witnesses. I will accompany you to the Ministry myself for the trial. I will try to get the procedure streamlined down to one day, to avoid you missing a great deal of school, since four of you have the O.W.L.s coming up. You may not all have to testify, but I'm certain that you will, Draco. That will be difficult, testifying against your own father in court." He looked sympathetically toward Malfoy, who already looked uncomfortable. Perhaps, thought Harry, he hadn't thought about this part. Testifying against your father. He tried to imagine it, and couldn't.

"And you will also likely testify, Ron, since you were on the receiving end of the Cruciatus Curse that is going to be the basis for his life-sentence." Ron swallowed, looking down at his OP. Dumbledore slapped his hands together. "Well! I must be going; the ministry is sending someone to collect Mr. Malfoy from the dungeons. Go enjoy your breakfast!" he said cheerily, as though he hadn't just been discussing Malfoy's dad going on trial and unforgivable curses. After the door to the infirmary closed, Harry noticed that Ron had a dreadful panicked look on his face.

"Are you okay, Ron?"

He shook his head, looking worse by the second. "Harry; I put the Cruciatus Curse on you. And Dumbledore knows about it too; we told him last night. If they ask him or any of us about that--I'll be spending the rest of my life in Azkaban." His voice had dwindled to a whisper at the end. He swallowed and looked terrified and alone, suddenly separate from the rest of them, who had plenty to worry about, but going to Azkaban wasn't one of those worries.

Suddenly Malfoy pushed at Ron with his left hand, wrapping it around Ginny's shoulder afterward. "Hey, Weasley. Are you sure you put the Cruciatus on Potter? I mean, I personally don't think you could. You probably couldn't give a hemophiliac a nosebleed. Did you feel any pain, Potter? When Weasley tried to curse you?"

Harry furrowed his brow, wondering what Malfoy was on about; then he caught on and smiled. "Pain? No pain at all. Not a bit. You say you put the Cruciatus Curse on me?" He smiled at Ron, who then started smiling too. "I mean," he went on, "I think I'd know if someone put the Cruciatus Curse on me. I've felt it before. I can testify to that in court." Then he had another thought. He drew Ron's wand out of his robes, where it had been all night. "And isn't this your wand, Ron? If the ministry is curious about whether it's been used for the Cruciatus Curse, there's a simple test they can do..."

"My wand!" He took it from Harry. By now, Ron was absolutely grinning at Harry and almost looking like he was going to start laughing. Then he did laugh, throwing his head back and then sighing with relief afterward. Harry felt a happiness leap up in him at seeing Ron smile back like that. There would be a time of healing, he knew, but he somehow felt that they could in fact go on now.

Ginny put her arm through Malfoy's and her head on his shoulder. "She's almost got you tamed, hasn't she, Malfoy?" Hermione said, looking at them.

Malfoy looked down at Ginny and said softly, "Mais, si tu m'apprivoises, nous aurons besoin l'un de l'autre. " She looked like she might very well melt.

Ron reached behind Ginny and whapped! Malfoy on the back of his head. "Hey! Stop speaking French to my sister!"

"But if you tame me, we shall need each other, " Hermione translated in a quiet voice. "It's from The Little Prince. "

"Wasn't he a Parselmouth?" Malfoy asked her, not tearing his gaze away from Ginny's.

"Who?"

"The Little Prince."

"Oh, that's right! He was talking to that snake in the desert. But he looked more like you, Malfoy, than Harry." She smiled at Harry. Then a hissing was heard from the vicinity of Harry's left arm. "What did she say?"

"'Who is this Little Prince?'" he told her. He hissed back at Sandy. "I told her never mind."

Hermione laughed. "Maybe I'll get used to that eventually...But I don't know whether I gave the best translation of that line you said, Malfoy. 'Apprivoiser' can also mean 'to domesticate.' Are you going to domesticate him, Ginny?" she laughed. Ginny turned her head and smiled, breaking the bond between her eyes and Malfoy's.

"Won't someone have to domesticate me first?" She looked at Malfoy again, losing her smile when she saw how serious his face looked. He leaned close to her again and spoke softly.

"Tu seras pour moi unique au monde. Je serai pour toi unique au monde. "

"You shall be for me unique in all the world. I shall be for you unique in all the world, " Hermione whispered, looking at Harry. He swallowed, wishing no one else were around just now.

Ron hit Malfoy on the back of the head again. "I said stop that! And you," he said to Hermione. "Stop translating for him!"

They all broke up into laughter, even Ron. Ginny kissed Malfoy on the cheek and left the infirmary, and Hermione kissed Harry on the cheek before closing her curtains and preparing to dress for breakfast. Harry rose and followed Ron to his hospital bed, stopping him with his hand on his arm. Ron looked at him expectantly, but what he was expecting, Harry didn't know.

"Ron," he said softly. "Are we all right?"

Ron looked at him for what seemed a long time. "No. And yes. Not yet. But--eventually. I think we will be." He tried to smile at Harry, and Harry smiled feebly back. It wasn't everything he'd hoped for, but it was enough for now.

* * * * *

After breakfast, Ron and Ginny and the twins bade their parents goodbye. Mrs. Weasley did not hug Harry though, or talk to him or Hermione. He felt strange, watching her leave the Great Hall with her husband. Did she hate him now? he wondered. Had Ron told her about him and Hermione? He didn't know what to think. Her being upset with him was very nearly as bad as Ron. He looked at Hermione, sitting next to him. She had noticed Mrs. Weasley's behavior as well. She didn't look happy about it either. He remembered when Ron's mother had snubbed Hermione after the Witch Weekly article about her toying with Harry's and Krum's feelings. He dreaded finding out what she thought of Hermione now, if Ron had told her about their physical relationship.

On the other hand, he thought, she could be upset with them about Malfoy. They had both known. And he had vouched for Malfoy before the Weasleys, all of them, and they had looked at him suspiciously, as though perhaps he should go off and be in Slytherin house now with the other snakes-in-the-grass. Regaining Ron's trust would be difficult, he knew. But he didn't just have to work on Ron; all of the Weasleys now regarded him differently, and he felt awful about that. He'd always felt so at home with them, almost like they had adopted him, and now, remembering the way Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had looked at him, as though he'd mortally wounded them by not revealing Ginny's relationship with Malfoy, was almost more than he could bear.

Harry pulled Ron and Ginny aside before they left the hall to go to classes, asking them whether they'd told anyone about him and Hermione. They looked at each other, brows furrowed, then at Harry.

"You mean you're still not going to tell people?"

"Well--we're going to come clean about being a couple. But--does everyone need to know about all of the details?"

Ron smirked. "You mean like--McGonagall?"

Harry widened his eyes and hit his head. "McGonagall! I hadn't even thought of her! She doesn't know, does she?"

Ron and Ginny looked at each other. Harry's heart sank. Then Ron laughed. "You should see your face, Harry! No McGonagall only knows you're a couple. Not that you've been--"

Coupling, thought Harry.

"--you know," Ron finished lamely, his ears turning red. Harry nodded.

They went to class. Harry was a bit disoriented and started going out the front door to Hagrid's, but Hermione dragged him to the stairs to the Potions dungeon. For a moment he'd forgotten what day it was. Harry hesitated before entering; the last time he'd been here, he'd seen Ginny and Draco Malfoy, and Ron...

Somehow, he got through the class. They weren't covering anything new; Snape was snidely going over material they would need to know for the O.W.L.s, hinting broadly that none of them would get O.W.L.s in Potions because they were hopelessly incompetent and stupid. Oddly, the only person he didn't seem to look at when hurling insults around was Neville, who was working next to Malfoy again. Snape actually took points from his own house because of Crabbe and Goyle repeatedly poking Malfoy when they thought Snape's back was turned. The other Slytherins weren't any kinder to him. Harry hoped Malfoy would hex them when he got the chance. He wondered how he was going to be able to continue living in Slytherin.

Harry was jolted when, at the end of class, Snape called out to him, "Potter! I need a word with you; Dueling Club business." Harry sent Hermione along ahead of him. Ron and Parvati and the others had already left. Harry shouldered his bag and followed Snape into his office; the next class wouldn't be arriving for a few minutes. Snape closed the door and nodded at the chair near the fireplace. Harry sat down and looked at him expectantly. When Sirius' head appeared in the fireplace, Harry jumped.

"Harry! I didn't mean to startle you. Severus contacted me last night and told me everything he knew. I won't ask for a complete recap now--that can wait. I just wanted to see you, make sure you're all right."

Harry nodded at him. "As well as can be expected...At least I'm not in too much trouble for staying in the forest all night...You know about--who's in the forest, right?"

"Yes, Severus told me."

"Well, I was in the giants' camp. Hagrid's mum took care of me. And this morning, Madam Pomfrey decided that this nasty lump--" he touched the tender spot above his ear "--will go away, and I don't have concussion. And I had some broken ribs, but she took care of that. They're already feeling much better. So I guess everything's okay. Except--"

"What?"

Harry hesitated. When he finally spoke, he couldn't keep the tears out of his voice. "I'm sorry, Sirius. I tried to catch him. I really tried. I kept thinking, if I can just catch Wormtail, you can be cleared..."

Sirius smiled ruefully. "Harry, I don't want you losing sleep over that. You did what you could, and Lucius Malfoy will be going to Azkaban, if the trial goes as expected. You'll have to go, won't you?" Harry nodded. "Well, it will be a quite an experience, I daresay. I wish I could go with you, but for obvious reasons..."

"I wish you could too." Harry swallowed. He thought he would lose it if he had to go on talking to his godfather much longer. "Listen, Sirius, I'd better go. I'll talk to you again soon."

Sirius smiled warmly. "Goodbye Harry. I'm very proud of you. Don't forget that."

His face disappeared. Harry turned to Snape. "Thank you for that. It's nice to be able to talk to him more often..." he trailed off, looking at the strange expression on Snape's face. He actually seemed to be somewhat proud of Harry himself, and for once not hiding it. Harry felt his chest hitch; without knowing it, maybe Snape's approval was something he'd been craving more than he knew. Perhaps because he knew it would never, could never be lightly bestowed. Snape looked away now, as though he just realized that he was not hiding his thoughts well enough.

"Potter. I meant what I said about having Dueling Club business to discuss with you. We will be doing an end-of-term demonstration for the school after exams, while the students are waiting for their grades. We will begin preparing for the demonstration during club meetings on Sundays. Understood?"

Harry nodded. He didn't need Snape to say the things Dumbledore and Sirius had said. Some small gestures were enough. He smiled at the Potions master and shouldered his bag again.

"Understood." He turned and left, his heart lighter than it had felt for some time. Somehow, he had the feeling that everything was going to be all right.

* * * * *

After he was done eating lunch, Harry looked up to see Dumbledore standing next to him.

"Harry," he said briefly. "A word."

Harry nodded and rose, following the headmaster up out of the hall, up the stairs, up and up, finally arriving in the study at the top of the moving spiral stairs, after Dumbledore gave the gargoyle the password. ("Custard rolls")

Harry sat in a chair facing the desk and Dumbledore, rather than sitting behind his desk, sat in another chair next to him. He peered at Harry, as though trying to tell whether there was a difference in him compared to the last time he'd seen him. Harry started to squirm from being so scrutinized.

"Would you like to give me the story of what happened last night, from your perspective?" Harry looked at him levelly. How much had the others told him? Did he know about him and Hermione? But then he thought about how many years Dumbledore had been headmaster, and how many years before that he'd taught at the school. Surely he couldn't be ignorant of Madam Pomfrey's liberal distribution of Prophylaxis Potion? Harry decided that he was tired of editing himself. He felt Dumbledore was the one person he needed to tell everything to. And so he did.

When he was done his recitation, the headmaster leaned back, examining Harry again. Harry didn't have a clue what he was thinking.

"So," Dumbledore said suddenly. "You want to know why you can block pain."

Harry frowned. He did, but he hadn't asked. Perhaps now he would find out...

"It's because you know you can."

Harry frowned even more deeply now. "What?"

"Harry, do you remember when you conjured the Patronus that held off hundreds of dementors when you were only thirteen?"

"Yes..."

"And you did it because you realized you'd already done it?"

Harry nodded. "But what does that have to do with this?"

He smiled. "Do you know that Professor Moody has never accomplished the pain blocking?"

Harry's jaw dropped. "What?"

"Nor have I. You, more so than most wizards, Harry, are highly suggestible. When you believe that you can't do something, you usually can't. Your attitude defeats you. But when you are led to believe you can do something, oddly enough, you usually can. You can leap on a broomstick when you've never done it before, and fly like Charlie Weasley. You can conjure a Patronus most adult wizards couldn't produce. You can overcome Imperius almost on the first try. You can block curses like Hara Kiri and Cruciatus. I told Professor Moody to introduce the idea of blocking pain into the curriculum. I wanted to see whether any of you were so suggestible that you could do it, just because you were told first that it was possible. And I wasn't a bit surprised to learn that you'd mastered it."

"So Moody was lying to us when he said we would master it by the end of the term? He couldn't do it himself? It isn't something Aurors usually learn?"

He shook his head. "No, Harry. If it were, Neville Longbottom's parents wouldn't be in St. Mungo's."

Harry furrowed his brow. "About Neville; is that why he did so well dueling when he was on the Eutharsos Potion?"

"Do you know what that potion does?"

"It makes you feel safe whether you are or not."

"Exactly. It's another case of mind over matter. That's all that much magic is, Harry. Those of us who are witches and wizards do have magic in us, but the training you receive here teaches you to focus and put your mind to a spell, to believe that it will work the way you want it to. You are very good at putting mind over matter, Harry, and I see you getting better at it year by year. Hermione has better study habits, it's undeniable. And Evan Davies has far better grades--as do several other fifth-year Ravenclaws and a couple of Hufflepuffs. As for the other Gryffindor students in your year, besides Hermione...compared to them, you admittedly look rather good. Although Ron Weasley has undergone quite an improvement this year. But grades are not everything; your inner focus is more pronounced than in any wizard I have seen come through here for a long time. As such, your greatest deficiency is also your mind--when you let it convince you that you are incapable of something. Your greatest strength is also your greatest weakness. Do you understand what I'm saying, Harry?"

Harry nodded, thinking about his duel with Voldemort, forcing the bead of light into his wand, forcing it to regurgitate the previous spells it had cast.

"And Voldemort?"

"Voldemort? When he was a student here, he was very, very much like you. Better grades, though. And he put on more of a show of following the rules." He looked at Harry over his spectacles. "Sometimes you don't even bother about that, Harry."

Harry felt his face grow warm. "I remember when I met the young Tom Riddle. He said we were a lot alike, too. When we were in the forest...when I offered to become a Death Eater if they would let Ron and Hermione go, I thought about that. About whether I was going to become just like him."

Now Dumbledore smiled. "That is something you do not have to worry about, Harry. No proper Death Eater ever did it to protect people they cared about. If you go into that with the intention of doing good, don't you think it rather defeats the whole purpose?"

Harry hadn't thought about that before. "But why do they threaten the recruits with hurting people they care about?"

"That's just until they're in. Then they have to hurt--really hurt--someone. You would never have been able to do that, Harry." Harry remembered Draco Malfoy cursing Karkaroff. He remembered Ron cursing him. Ron was hoping Harry could do pain blockage, but still...

"You are too self-sacrificing to make a proper Death Eater, Harry. As much as Pettigrew seems to have convinced Voldemort to recruit you to repay his debt to you, I think Voldemort has agreed to that plan for a different reason..."

"What?"

Dumbledore sighed. "It took him years to achieve the level of power he had attained when the killing curse rebounded on him, giving you that scar. I believe that in the last year, he has come to realize that it will take years and years again for him to climb back to that level of power. Unless he finds a shortcut. Unless he finds a very powerful wizard who will become his servant, and let him absorb his power...You have in you a great deal of the power he lost when he cursed you, more than he has right now, I daresay. He has realized that he needs you alive, to draw on that power."

Harry looked at his hands. "I still don't want anything to happen to Ron or Hermione. They can still be used against me. I'd rather give him all my magical power than see them hurt--or see anyone else hurt."

Dumbledore smiled. "But it's precisely because of that that you can't possibly give up your power to him, even if you wanted to. I'm guessing that he doesn't understand that yet. It's alien to him. That's why your mother's sacrifice protected you, Harry. And that's why I trust you."

Harry looked at Dumbledore, trying to understand consciously everything he'd said, but he gave up on that and decided that perhaps the best thing was to comprehend it unconsciously. He tried to quiet the voices inside him, throwing out one idea after another. He felt a peace come over him, and suddenly, understanding lit up his brain in a startling epiphany. He looked levelly at Dumbledore, very calm.

"I understand."

Dumbledore smiled and nodded at him. "Because you know that you can." Harry smiled back, leaving the study more at peace than he'd felt in a very long time. For once he didn't feel like he was leaving Dumbledore's office with more questions than he'd entered. But he still had quite lot to think about.

Your greatest strength is also your greatest weakness....

* * * * *

The next morning Harry felt like going running again. He hadn't gone the day before. As he opened the wardrobe door, getting out his running shoes and shorts, Ron opened his bedcurtains and peered at him sleepily. "Going running?"

"Yeah," Harry said shortly, undecided whether it would make him happy for Ron to come along. Ron rose and retrieved his own running gear. Finally, Harry put his shirt on while Ron was tying his laces. "Let's go," he said tersely.

When they reached the common room, it was deserted. Harry checked his watch; it was ten minutes after seven. They waited another five minutes, but Harry decided they should leave. "If she were coming, she'd be down here by now." He took Sandy off his arm and left her by the fireside.

When they reached the Quidditch pitch, they did the warm-up exercises in silence, then rose and started running on the sandy path. Afterward, they were doing the warm-down exercises when Ron suddenly looked up at Harry and asked, "When did it start?"

Harry was jolted. "What?" he said, realizing even as he said this what it was that Ron meant.

"You and Hermione."

They'd been going through the motions of normal school life since returning from the forest, as though nothing had happened, although there were times when Harry saw Ron looking at Hermione strangely. He put his chin on his knees to consider his answer.

"Well, there was this time we almost kissed at my house, just before we left to come to the Burrow. No, wait, there was the time she was sunbathing in the garden. Actually, maybe it was when she kissed me on the cheek before the summer holiday, at the station." He frowned; then he went back to his thoughts when they'd consummated their relationship. "No," he corrected himself again. "In a way--it started when I noticed at the Yule Ball how pretty Krum's date was. I was, of course, still insanely obsessed with Cho Chang, but even I could see that. Then I realized it was her. And you were such a prat to her; I wanted to kick you," he said, but smiled. Ron nodded.

"That's true. A total prat."

"And when Krum wanted to talk to me about her, what really struck me was that he actually thought of me as a rival. He said she talked about me all the time. I told him it was because we're friends, and he let it go at that. Of course then everything around us starting going crazy, Barty Crouch and all that, but later in the summer, I still remembered him saying that she talked about me all the time."

Ron shrugged. "Well, you're Harry Potter..."

"Yeah, yeah, I survived the killing curse. Of course, when she sent the photo..."

"Right. The photo."

"...then I gathered that she might be interested in me. That was before Bulgaria."

Ron couldn't deny this. "True," he said simply.

Harry looked at his face. "Ron, you're still my best friend, right?"

"Right," Ron said, hesitating only a moment before answering.

"I don't want to hide anything from you. I want to tell you everything."

Ron widened his eyes, looking both hopeful and apprehensive. "Everything? "

"Well, okay, not everything..." He realized how that must have sounded. "But there are some things you don't know, and there's no bloody reason to keep them from you now."

"Like what?"

"After the dream I had on Christmas night, I screamed bloody murder. Hermione heard and--she slept in my bed with me the rest of the night. And the next night. And the rest of the holidays. We just slept. I still miss that at times. It was so comforting just having her there, hearing her breathing in her sleep, feeling her warmth next to me..." Harry trailed off, feeling a flush rising up from his neck. Ron narrowed his eyes.

"I've never done that. Slept in the same bed with someone else..." Harry couldn't tell whether Ron sounded envious or it was just a statement of fact.

Harry sighed. "Of course, there came a time when I had trouble not thinking about--certain things. So I moved to another bed." He decided that Ron didn't need to know it was his bed. "Which did no good, because she followed me, wanting to know what was wrong, and then she told me it was after midnight--this was New Year's Eve--and she wished me Happy New Year and kissed me and--" He looked down. He couldn't go on.

"Well?" Ron said, looking wide-eyed. Harry realized he'd rather left him hanging.

"Well," Harry hesitated, "I, er, stopped what we were doing, and then Sandy told me a dark wizard was coming. I went rather insane. I put Hermione in the corner under the Invisibility Cloak and I hid under Dean Thomas' bed, aiming my wand at the door. Of course, it was Sirius."

Ron's jaw dropped, then he burst out laughing, flinging himself backwards and rolling around on the pitch. Harry felt laughter bubbling up inside him, too, and soon he too was laughing loudly. After a while, Ron sat up, wiping his eyes.

"Oh, Harry," he said weakly. "Thanks. I needed that."

Harry shrugged. "Glad I could amuse you by being such a sodding idiot."

Ron shook his head, standing. He helped Harry to stand too, then put his arm across his shoulder. "It's not that. Okay, it's that a little bit. I think I thought..." he trailed off. "I thought it was all rainbows and champagne and sappy stuff like that. And it was probably sneaking around to snog in dark uncomfortable places, and making up ridiculous excuses, and insane-sounding alibis...None of it sounds remotely romantic or something to be jealous of. I should have known you'd bollix up your first real girlfriend experience. Cho doesn't count, of course..."

"Of course..." Harry mumbled, feeling more than a little insulted, but if thinking of his and Hermione's relationship as one horrendous, disastrous encounter after another cheered him up, he wasn't feeling inclined to correct him. Then he was struck by something Ron had said that was just a bit upsetting. "What do you mean, 'first' girlfriend?"

Ron stopped walking for a second, then resumed his course, moving ahead of Harry so he couldn't see his face. "Oh. Nothing. Nothing at all. Let's go..."

* * * * *

Harry told Ron about the way Snape had actually been quite decent to him when away from other people, the way he let him use his office fireplace to communicate with Sirius, and the fact that he was on a first-name basis with Sirius. Harry and Hermione told Ron together about the things they'd seen in Snape's Pensieve; his mouth was open in shock much of the time. His first reaction to the thought of Snape kissing Lily was the same as Harry's. 

"Eeeew. "

His second reaction to their recitation of the Pensieve events was to look at the two of them strangely, and say softly, "Um, you do realize that you two have been finishing each other's sentences?"

Harry looked in surprise at Hermione, who then smiled, lacing her fingers through his and leaning her head on his shoulder. Harry looked at Ron, who gazed with an inscrutable expression at them both, then looked away.

After a few days, the rest of the people in the Gryffindor common room started acting normally around Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny. At first, everyone seemed to be walking on eggshells around the four of them, but now games of chess were being played, and Exploding Snap. The twins were telling jokes and people were laughing at them. There no longer seemed to be a pall cast on the place. Most Gryffindors simply greeted the news that Harry and Hermione were a couple with equanimity, as though they'd thought that all along (many of them had), so it didn't cause any significant ripples in the daily life of the house. The extent of their relationship was not common knowledge; only Ginny and Ron knew that. Ginny's and Draco's relationship, however, was still under wraps, for the most part. The twins knew, of course, and weren't particularly happy about it, but so far they hadn't tried to decapitate Malfoy. They had tried to offer him some Ton-Tongue Toffees, but Ginny had forewarned him, so he declined, looking, Harry thought, like he was wondering what he'd gotten himself into.

The focus of concern in Gryffindor Tower returned to Neville. There were many people who still treated Neville very carefully since his recovery, which was clearly wearing on him. Neville sometimes would retreat to the dorm to sit on his bed reading, catching up with his schoolwork, but then Dean or Seamus would go up to sit with him. He had started to look a bit annoyed about this. At one point Harry was on his bed reading for the O.W.L.s while Neville was doing the same on his. Neville looked up at Harry.

"You don't have to stay and baby-sit me, Harry. I'm not going to start secretly taking Eutharsos Potion again."

Harry looked up in surprise. "I'm not baby-sitting you, Neville. I was here first, reading for Binns' class. It's just that it puts me to sleep, so I figured I might as well be on my bed, so I'll be comfortable when it happens."

Neville smiled in apology. "Sorry, Harry. I just feel like--everyone's waiting for me to snap. But you know, they say if you're reading something that might make you fall asleep, you should actually read it in the most uncomfortable place you can."

"You're assuming I don't want to fall asleep, Neville," he laughed, and Neville laughed too, then look a little surprised.

"That's funny, Harry. I--I don't remember laughing since--since I got back. It's like people are trying not to say funny things around me."

"Even Fred and George?"

"Even them."

"Well, come on downstairs, Neville. If they're not busy with their N.E.W.T. preparation, maybe they can give us both a good laugh."

They left their books on their beds and went down the stairs to the common room. Before they had reached the bottom, however, they met Ron coming up the stairs, looking breathless.

"Oh," he said anxiously, "Harry and Neville! Are Dean and Seamus upstairs in our room?"

"No," Neville answered. "We were the only ones there."

"Well, um--do you need to go back there real soon? I'd like some--privacy---"

Harry looked down and saw Parvati appear at the foot of the stairs. She didn't look at Harry or Neville. Harry understood, and was a little bit wistful; he and Hermione were trying to be so careful about people knowing about their physical relationship, they hadn't been alone together since returning from the forest.

Neville nodded at Ron, smiling. "Not a problem."

"I'm putting a locking charm on the door, just so you know."

"Fine, fine," Harry said, trying not to sound too irritated as Parvati, averting her eyes, passed him on the stairs.

"It's not for you two; last time Dean and Seamus thought they would 'interrupt,'" Ron said. "Let them know they shouldn't even bother."

Neville said he would, laughing, and Harry was glad to hear him laugh again. He was right; he hadn't laughed enough since returning from the hospital wing.

Thinking of Ron and Parvati up in their room made Harry wonder where Hermione was. Probably in the library, he thought, with O.W.L.s being so close. Maybe if they went up to Fluffy's room...

But he didn't bother to go look for her. He and Neville started playing Exploding Snap with the twins, and before long, they were all laughing hysterically and nursing small burns, mostly singed eyebrows. Then Harry excused himself to go to the lavatory. The twins hinted broadly that he was going to try to spy on Ron and Parvati, and Harry laughed, pretending to go along with this. He went up the stairs, not hearing any sounds from the dorm before he entered the lavatory. When he was washing his hands, he heard the door to the dormitory open and slam shut again, then open again.

"Parvati!" he heard Ron's voice plead. Harry dried his hands on a towel; he stepped closer to the door and put his ear to it. He heard her footsteps return from the stairs, then the unmistakable sound of a slap.

"You bastard!" he heard Parvati's strangled voice, as though she were trying not to cry. Harry swallowed. He was trapped. Although perhaps if he opened the door and appeared on the landing with them, it could defuse the explosive situation he somehow felt was brewing.

"Parvati--" Ron pleaded again. "Come on! It happens to everyone..."

Now Harry was appalled; he did not want to know about this, not in a million years. How awful, he thought, imagining himself in Ron's shoes. Now he knew for sure that he shouldn't step foot out of the lavatory. Ron would die if he knew he had heard.

"It was a slip of the tongue..." Ron continued to try to placate her. What? Harry thought. Obviously it wasn't what he thought. Ron had said something to upset her. What could it be?

"A slip of the tongue? A slip of the tongue? Don't tell me you haven't been pretending I'm her every time. I'm not a bleeding substitute! I--I sometimes suspected, but when you actually call me by her name in the--in the middle of it--it becomes glaringly obvious! I am never speaking to you again, Ron Weasley!"

Harry covered his mouth in horror. It was even worse than he'd originally thought. He heard Parvati run down the stairs, her footsteps a rapid tattoo on the stone, receding now. Harry heard Ron take a step, then held his breath. What if Ron came in here? Harry thought fleetingly of running into a stall and standing on a toilet seat lid, hoping Ron wouldn't find him. But then he heard the door to the dorm slam again, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He opened the door and stepped onto the landing just as Ron opened the door to their dorm again. He froze when he saw Harry. Harry felt himself flush, remembering what he'd just heard. Ron's face was furious when he'd opened the door, then mortified when he saw Harry.

"Harry," he said nervously. "How--how long were you in there?"

"Why?" Harry decided the best course of action was to feign stupidity and deafness.

"You didn't hear our--our argument, did you? Me and Parvati?"

Harry swallowed. "You and Parvati had an argument?" he said, his voice higher than he wanted it to be. "I'm--I'm sorry to hear that."

Ron looked at him as though he were unconvinced, but also as though he'd rather kiss Snape than admit what they'd been arguing about. "Yeah, well, you know. Women."

Harry smiled feebly. "Women," he echoed softly.

Or, he thought, a particular woman.

Hermione.

* * * * *