Choices and Consequences

Batsnumbereleven

Story Summary:
Harry's heading back to Privet Drive for the summer after his fifth year. He's tired of being angry with the world, and now it's time for him to change his attitude. He might have lost Sirius, and have had the prophecy thrust upon him, but there are still people who want to help him, and who understand the burden he carries. He has to take responsibility for his life and find a way to defeat Voldemort. (Mild H/G)

Chapter 25 - 25

Chapter Summary:
Harry worries about Ginny's safety, and has a run-in with Malfoy that turns out to be more significant than he'd originally anticipated.
Posted:
02/08/2007
Hits:
2,762
Author's Note:
Hopefully this will cure the formatting glitch in the original upload!


When morning finally came around, and Harry was able to use the daily grind to hide the fact that he hadn't slept at all after Neville had woken him, he realised that the vision of Voldemort, and how he had found out about Harry's Occlumency lessons actually being taken seriously this time, worried him an awful lot less that the nightmare he'd had.

He wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or not since it suggested that he was getting used to the visitor; either than or the nightmares were disturbing him especially.

He struggled through the day and welcomed the end of classes, finally able to relax. He went to bed early, but got no relief, as the nightmares haunted him yet again - this time of Ginny being abducted from right beside him and him being unable to find out where she had been taken.

The nightmares continued over the next few nights, and although they varied in their content, the common factor was some harm or distress befalling Ginny, whether as the result of Death Eater actions or through falling victim to some unexpected mishap.

He started to realise how much of a target Ginny would be once it was common knowledge that she was his girlfriend, but he didn't really know how to tell her what was disturbing him. He talked to Dumbledore, both about the vision and his nightmares, but the Headmaster just gave him vague reassurances that while they were in school, there was little that Voldemort or his followers could do to cause any of them harm.

Harry wasn't particularly reassured though. He knew that it just meant that students were even more likely to be attacked when they were out on a Hogsmeade visit or at home with their families during the holidays, and he was equally sure that Voldemort knew exactly how well protected the students were when they were actually inside the school, having been very closely aligned with Quirinius Quirrell during his final year as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.

His tutorial sessions with John Christopher and Fabian Gaarder seemed to be going quite well though, despite the increasing weariness Harry found himself experiencing, as he put off sleeping until later and later each night to try and avoid the nightmares.

His proficiency with the elemental magic was growing lesson by lesson, and Professor Gaarder seemed to be fairly pleased with his progress now. He did remind Harry on a regular basis that the ability might not be all that helpful in the middle of a duel though, since it took time for the effects to take shape, and that would be time that he could not afford to take away from concentrating on his opponent.

He'd tried a few times in his duelling lessons to incorporate some of the things he'd learned from the elemental magic sessions, but for the most part found it an unwieldy form of magic to be using in an immediately life-threatening situation.

On one occasion he questioned Gaarder about the overall usefulness of learning it if it wasn't all that helpful in battle.

"I'm sure you'll find that it has uses beyond simple duelling, Mister Potter," Gaarder pointed out. "There are occasions when the ability to have control over large scale elemental functions could come in quite handy.

"For example, if the battle were here at the school, you could use your skills to cause unbelievable havoc, even prior to engagement, by manipulating the water in the lake, or the ground on which your enemies stand. Similarly, from a certain range, control of the air could be most helpful if your enemy were attempting an aerial attack - they would find it most difficult trying to fly through a tornado to get to the castle."

Harry acknowledged his mentor's point and redoubled his efforts to learn as much as he could from him. If indeed the attack were to come at Hogwarts, he would need someone to point out these kinds of opportunities though; otherwise it might be a waste of time having learned such control.

Gaarder had told him that if he had years to study the subject, he could refine his skills to the point where he could use elemental magic in a duel, but since it was unlikely that he had that length of time before Voldemort challenged him once more, they had to concentrate of honing his skills to use in a more strategic fashion. Besides, as Gaarder reminded him, he was already working on his duelling skills with John and Moody and for him to concentrate on that area would only be duplicating their efforts to a large degree.

After completing a tiring morning's work with Gaarder, Harry was surprised to be jostled by a group of first years hurrying to lunch. He shook his head at their antics as he regained his balance a greeted them with a tired wave as they flowed past him.

The first years seemed to be very enthusiastic, always running around the castle from one lesson to the next and from their dorm room to the Great Hall. Harry could remember when he and Ron had been the same in their own first year, but this seemed to be more akin to a tidal wave, as fifteen or twenty of them at a time were congregated together, sweeping all before them as they made their way through the melee from place to place.

Harry had made an effort to get to know all of them a little bit, and had committed to sitting at what was now considered the "first year table" for at least one meal a day so that they always had a senior student to talk to. This hadn't really been a problem though, and the prefects that Harry had enlisted on the first day had also made the table a regular stop: even when they ate with their own Houses they often found time to drop by for a chat.

They seemed to be settling into the Hogwarts routine quite well despite the odd grumble about some of the teachers, most notably Snape and McGonagall, and the feeling that they had been slighted by not being allowed out to Hogsmeade. Harry related the tale of his third year when he'd been barred from the village as well, which made them all laugh, though he didn't reveal the location of the secret passage that led to the cellar of Honeydukes, nor the minor details of his Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder's Map. Even with those omissions, the story seemed to go down quite well, although there were one or two cynical looks from the older students present that indicated that they didn't quite believe what he was saying.

A few divisions were starting to set in between the first years as well. Harry thought it was a bit of a shame, but it was only natural that they would start to form good friends among some of their contemporaries and not others, and those of similar temperament or with similar interests had started to gravitate to one another's company. It did seem as though the group got on pretty well together as a whole though, and there were remarkably few obvious frictions.

It was a surprise to Harry therefore, one Friday afternoon as he was rushing so as not to be late for his Astronomy class, to come across Malfoy and Crabbe in the middle of bullying one of the first year boys in a relatively quiet corridor. He'd almost rushed straight past them until he noticed the youngster, shielded from the view of most people by Crabbe's bulk, cowering away from the three sixth year boys.

He stopped for a moment, and heard Crabbe cast a nasty cutting hex that made the boy, Harry thought his name was Graham, squeal in pain, which Malfoy quickly cut off with a silencing charm.

"You idiot, Crabbe! No one's supposed to hear him squeaking."

Crabbe just laughed dumbly, no doubt still amused by the pain he'd caused and pulled back one hefty boot, kicking poor Graham in the ribs as he fell to the floor, and chuckling at the cry of pain from the youngster.

Malfoy looked around surreptitiously, to guard against being spotted by any of the teachers, and noticed Harry's interest.

"Go away, Potter. There's nothing to watch here," he said with a sneer, and turned his attention back to the sandy haired youngster that his friend had just assaulted.

Harry wasn't going to stand for that. He'd been on the wrong end of Malfoy's nasty temper on more than one occasion, and was determined to put a stop to him intimidating the first years.

"Is that so, Malfoy? Then why don't you and your hired help wander off and leave this young man alone?"

"Don't interfere, Muggle-lover," Malfoy threatened. "Wallace here and I were just concluding a little ... business arrangement. No need for you to poke your nose in."

Crabbe turned towards Harry and gave him a look that Harry guessed was supposed to be threatening, but all it did really was make the Slytherin's face look even more Neanderthal than usual.

"Business arrangement? You mean, he pays you, and you'll avoid the business of arranging his face differently? I thought that was pleasure for you, not business?"

"I told you, Potter! Get lost!"

The blond boy seemed slightly disturbed that Harry hadn't just gone away, which was ludicrous.

"I'll tell you, Malfoy. Leave him alone, and get back to your creepy little Slytherin nest. If you think I'm standing for your crap, you've got a surprise coming. I thought I'd already made that clear when we had words the other day? Did you think that running off to squeal to Snape would make the slightest difference?"

Clearly Harry's identification of Malfoy as such a minuscule threat had only served to rile him further - if Snape apparently wasn't going to back him up, he needed to be reminded as often as possible that he was messing with the wrong person.

Crabbe backed off a little, leaving the two long-time protagonists face to face.

"You're dead, Potter," Malfoy growled menacingly, as he leant in towards Harry to try and intimidate him. "I told you before - Malfoys don't take orders from you, and you're sure as hell going to pay for your tricks."

Harry wafted a hand in front of his face.

"Your breath stinks something rotten, you know- " he began, but before he could get the rest of his insult out, Malfoy had drawn his wand and tried to send a curse at him.

"Crucio!" he crowed, and the curse hit Harry almost instantly, given the few centimeters the spell had to travel, forcing him to the floor in agony, as the nerve endings all around his body burned.

This gave the first year the opportunity he needed. Grabbing his bag from where it had fallen on the floor next to him, he leaped to his feet and dashed off, disappearing round a corner as quickly as he could.

"I told you not to mess in my business, Potter," Malfoy said, his lip curling into a supercilious sneer as he lifted the Cruciatus curse and signalled to his henchman. Harry didn't have long to wait before he found out what the signal meant, as Crabbe's foot buried itself in his stomach, doubling Harry over in yet more pain.

"You never listen, do you?" he spat. "I could kill you right now, with two simple words, and the world would be such a better place for it." Malfoy stood over Harry's prone body. "In fact, I think I will."

The blond Slytherin lifted his wand one more time, but as he began the incantation intending to end Harry's life, there was a loud 'bang' and his form was suddenly replaced by that of a white rabbit, which fell to the ground with a thud.

Crabbe looked around in amazement, remembering the last time this had happened, and wondering where Mad-eye Moody had come from. There was no sign of him though, and the lumbering Slytherin decided that he was best served by being somewhere else in a hurry, and tanked off down the corridor at a previously unseen rate.

The rabbit scuttled around for a moment, then gathered its bearings and shot off in the direction that Crabbe had taken, presumably in the general vicinity of the dungeons to find Professor Snape.

Harry, meanwhile, picked himself up and dusted his clothes down, shivering a little as he tried to shake off the effects of the curse that Malfoy had employed.

He wasn't sure, after that little confrontation, that he really wanted to go to his Astronomy class after all. In fact he felt a little woozy, and considered that a seat in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room might be the most enticing option, while he tried to recover.

Despite the number of times he had experienced the Cruciatus curse, both physically and in his visions, it wasn't something that he could get used to. He felt as though he wanted to vomit, but was more concerned with the way that his legs were shaking as he tried to walk down the corridor, not caring immediately where he was headed, just trying to get some sort of feeling of normality back into his body.

In the end, the decision was made for him. As he reached the end of the corridor, Professor McGonagall mowed him to the ground as she steamed around the corner, looking fit to burst, and they fell to the floor in a heap.

McGonagall apologised profusely as the two of them levered themselves up from the floor, and eyed Harry up.

"It's true then?" she asked rhetorically, her mouth working overtime trying to phrase the question she wanted to ask, partly in disbelief in recognition of Harry's symptoms.

"What is?" Harry answered, not really in the mood for guessing games.

"Young Mister Wallace was most insistent that you were in trouble; that Mister Malfoy had performed the Cruciatus curse on you."

Harry had rarely seen McGonagall's face quite so thunderous, nor the red tinge of anger that framed her cheeks. Perhaps the time when they had been caught out of bed releasing Norbert to Charlie's friends back in their first year and had lost fifty House Points each, but rarely.

Harry let out a deep breath.

"It's true, Minerva."

It wasn't Harry that spoke. Mad-eye Moody stepped out from underneath his Invisibility Cloak and regarded Harry with concern.

"That's not all. He was about to use the Killing curse until I stopped him."

Moody's magical eye was whirling madly in its socket, and the old Auror had a fire in his face that Harry hadn't anticipated, even considering he'd witnessed Harry's encounter with Malfoy on the Hogwarts Express.

"What? You're joking! Where is he?"

This was a side of Professor McGonagall that Harry rarely saw. She wasn't putting on a strict, disciplinarian act now, she was full of righteous anger and disbelief that one student would attempt to perform the Killing curse on another.

"He scuttled off down to the dungeons, Professor," Harry volunteered, which elicited a chuckle from Moody as he caught the subtle reference. "You don't have to do this, Professor."

"Well he can damn well scuttle his way up to the Headmaster's office, right now!" she fumed. "Alastor - go get him and bring him up!"

Despite his weakened state, Harry's eyes opened wide at Professor McGonagall's use of profanity. Even under the excessive duress of Umbridge's provocation she hadn't stooped to expletives to express herself.

Moody didn't seem to find it particularly outrageous though, and turned on his heel with determination, striding away, his wooden leg echoing strangely on the floor as he moved along the corridor. As he reached the far end, McGonagall called out another instruction.

"Bring Severus, too. He ought to be present."

"Aye, that I shall," Moody agreed, stopping and nodding briefly without turning to face them before resuming his march.

Harry almost felt like saluting as McGonagall turned her attention to him.

"I'm sorry to have to do this right now, when what you really need is medical attention, but you're going to have to come to Professor Dumbledore's office as well. I'm sure you don't care for this, but it's about time we did something." The Gryffindor Head of House looked at him in a sympathetic manner. "Can you cope with that?"

Harry sighed and nodded. He'd hoped to avoid dealing with Malfoy this year, but it looked as though he had no choice.

He'd ignored McGonagall's warning not to antagonise the Slytherin, but what was he supposed to do - simply allow him to bully the first years into submission? That didn't seem right. He wondered if he was in for a lecture, but McGonagall was silent as she led the way to the Headmaster's office, probably still fuming at Malfoy's actions, if Harry read things correctly. Much as he despised Malfoy, he didn't really want it to come to this, being dragged off to see Dumbledore about him.

She gave the password and they travelled the up the moving spiral stone staircase in silence, coming to a halt outside the door to Dumbledore's study. McGonagall rapped sharply on the door, forgoing use of the brass knocker there for that purpose.

"Come in Minerva," the Headmaster's voice echoed from the inside, and the two of them entered.

McGonagall gestured for Harry to sit down.

"We just need to wait a few minutes for Professor Snape and Alastor to bring our little problem up," she said, settling herself onto the edge of the least comfortable looking chair in the office.

"I assume this involves Harry and Mister Malfoy?" the Headmaster guessed.

"Of course it does," McGonagall said with a shudder. "But we need to wait for the others."

Dumbledore nodded and leant forward at his desk, steepling his fingers in front of him and gently resting his chin on the apex, pondering Harry intently as they waited.

"It seems trouble follows you around?"

Harry snorted. Dumbledore wasn't wrong. Admittedly there had been times when he'd gone looking for trouble to a certain degree - the event surrounding the Philosopher's Stone, or the Chamber of Secrets, for example - but it seemed that even when he was trying to get through the year without precipitating a crisis, the crisis would jump out at him anyway, knowing that he was just the guy it was looking for.

They didn't have to wait very long. The sounds of Malfoy protesting his treatment at Moody's hands could be heard from quite a distance away, and it appeared that Snape was allowing it, which seemed to irritate the blond Slytherin even more.

As the three of them entered the office, Harry had to hide a grin. Moody had literally dragged Malfoy up to the office by his ear, and given the aged Auror's height advantage it looked a particularly painful mode of transport. Entering behind Moody and his struggling victim, Snape looked on impassively, almost as though he was annoyed to have been put to the trouble of having to attend rather than having any particular concern for his erstwhile protégé.

"Sit!" Moody snarled as he dragged Malfoy across the room.

Malfoy did as he'd been ordered, but immediately began a long tirade against the veteran wizard, beginning with how unfair it was for him to be dragged out of his common room for no apparent reason, and ending with accusations of being transfigured into a sub-species.

His vituperative ranting was cut off abruptly with a wave of the Headmaster's hand. It took a moment for him to realise that he'd been magically silenced, but then an obnoxiously superior expression crossed his face.

Dumbledore cancelled the spell and turned to the Head of Gryffindor House.

"Minerva?"

McGonagall puffed her cheeks out and related the tale that the horrified first year had carried to her about Malfoy using the Cruciatus on Harry. Moody picked up the story as the eyewitness to the rest of it, filling in details that the panic-stricken child had missed, and culminating in Malfoy's attempt to use the Killing curse.

The room was filled with Malfoy's denials and accusations of bias and collusion for a few moments, before he was silenced once again, this time by Professor Snape.

"Is this true, Draco?" he asked.

Malfoy attempted to spout off another lengthy spiel, no doubt full of recriminations, but the silencing spell was still in effect and whatever his explanation was it went totally unheard.

"Just a nod or a shake of the head, please, Mister Malfoy," Dumbledore suggested mildly.

He shook his head defiantly.

"Fine. Let's get to the bottom of this then, shall we? If I remove the silencing spell, I need you to answer the question posed and nothing more," the Headmaster told him. "Do you agree?"

Malfoy grimaced, but tentatively nodded his head.

Another wave of Dumbledore's hand cancelled the silencing spell and he nodded to Professor Snape to ask the questions.

"What's your explanation for the events that Professor McGonagall and Mister Moody have related here?"

The trademark Malfoy sneer was back in full force.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he replied with a drawl. "I haven't seen Potter all day.

Harry couldn't believe that Malfoy was able to lie with such a straight face, though there was no doubt he had the appropriate incentive.

"How do you account for Moody's eye-witness account of you performing the Cruciatus curse and attempting the Killing curse, then?

"I don't. You're obviously trying to frame me," he responded with an oily smirk. "The Dark Lord knows all about you - you can't fool him. He knows you've betrayed him. You're just trying to save face with the Muggle-lovers like Dumbledore."

Snape's face screwed up into a snarl. "You're not helping matters here, Mister Malfoy," he growled out. "I've given you an opportunity to explain yourself, and you've decided to ignore it. Moody!"

Moody stepped forward. "Your wand please, Flopsy," he demanded, waving away the Headmaster's protests at the sobriquet.

Malfoy pulled his wand out. "You've got to be kidding," he responded, pointing it directly at the gnarled man. "I don't give up my wand to anyone."

From his seated position behind his desk, Dumbledore sighed.

"Hand your wand over, please, Mister Malfoy, or I'll have no choice but to expel you from Hogwarts."

Malfoy wasn't taking the bluff though. "You'll expel me anyhow. I'm not about to hand in my wand to any of you lot.

"Stupefy!"

The curse wasn't aimed at Moody, where Malfoy had initially been pointing his wand. Instead, the streak of red light belted across the room and lifted Professor Snape clean off his feet, throwing him back against the wall of the Headmaster's study, where he slumped down, unconscious or worse.

"You're all idiots!" he shouted, clearly not caring that despite knocking the Potions Professor out he was still outnumbered four to one. "You think I don't know I'm going to be the scapegoat for whatever lies Potter here spouts, do you?" he yelled.

"Well I'm damned if I'm going to let that happen!" He jumped up and pulled Professor McGonagall out of her seated position by the hair and pointed his wand directly at her heart. McGonagall struggled briefly in his grasp, but ceased to when she found the wand replaced by a knife that had suddenly appeared from Malfoy's sleeve into his hand and was pressed against her throat.

"You," he demanded, pointing at Dumbledore, "will make me a Portkey that takes me directly to Diagon Alley, or I'll rip her throat out."

The Headmaster looked despairingly at his Deputy, and the situation she found herself in.

"Don't give him anything, Albus!" she implored, a request that was cut off into a gurgle as Malfoy pressed the knifepoint into her throat a little firmer, breaking the skin. Harry could see a trickle of blood work its way down his Head of House's neck as Malfoy gradually increased the pressure.

"Typical Gryffindor," he snarled. "Trying to act the hero until the last minute. Well it's not going to work."

He turned back to look at Dumbledore. "You've got five seconds before I kill her anyway.

"Five ... "

It didn't take Dumbledore more than half of one of those five seconds to make up his mind. He picked up a quill from his desk and cast the Portus spell upon it, then pushed it to the far side of the desk so that Malfoy could reach it, although he would have to step away from Professor McGonagall to do so.

Harry could see the Moody had his wand surreptitiously trained upon the spot Malfoy would have to move to, to try and intercept him the moment he let go of the Deputy Headmistress, but he never go the opportunity. Malfoy was too smart for him, and dragged McGonagall the half step he needed to take to reach the quill.

"This had better activate on my touch, or she's dead," he threatened.

Dumbledore nodded, and Malfoy reached out a hand for the quill. Indeed, it did activate on his touch, but he hadn't released McGonagall from his grip, and they both disappeared from the office in the blink of an eye.

"Dammit, Albus!" Moody snarled a moment after the two vanished. "You're supposed to secure the hostage first, before you provide the means of escape."

Dumbledore hung his head. "I could not risk Minerva's safety on the possibility that we might be able to do that."

"I agree with the Headmaster," Snape intoned bleakly from his prone position against the wall. He massaged the back of his head and his neck, and tried to stand, but failed to, so resigned himself to being seated on the floor.

"She stands a better chance of escaping that if we are standing over her. Malfoy can only use her as a hostage if he has someone to bargain with. Right now, I expect he has no further need for her."

As though on cue, the fireplace flared up and Professor McGonagall's head appeared in the green flames.

"Albus?"

"Yes, Minerva, I'm here. Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Malfoy's disappeared, so I'll Apparate up to Hogsmeade and walk up from there," she advised calmly, before ending the conversation.

"Thank heavens for that!" Dumbledore murmured under his breath.

"How are you feeling, Severus?" he asked the dishevelled Potions master.

"I have a slight headache, and feel a bit woozy. I think I'll drop into the Hospital Wing and see Madam Pomfrey if that's alright?"

Snape pulled himself to his feet and shook his head to clear the cobwebs, then strode out the door as though nothing was wrong with him at all.

"Yes, yes. And Harry?"

"Umm, I'm fine sir."

Harry really wasn't sure what to make of the events in Dumbledore's office. It was difficult to comprehend what Malfoy had just done, whether it was an act of desperation, or something planned with malice aforethought.

"Can I ask Alastor to escort you back to your common room then, please?"

He looked up to Moody for confirmation, and received a sharp nod in return.

"I realise that your friends will want to know about your temporary disappearance, but I'd prefer if you could hold off answering their questions until after I've had a chance to address the whole school. I'll need to edit this afternoon's events slightly for general consumption, but after that you can tell Mister and Miss Weasley and Miss Granger what really happened, if you wish."

Harry blew out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.

"Yes sir. When are you going to tell the school?"

"I shall have to do it at Dinner time, unfortunately. If I leave it any longer, I'm sure that the school will be abuzz with rumour, not least at Mister Malfoy's absence."

Harry nodded, and turned to leave.

"Oh, and Harry?"

He turned back to look at the Headmaster.

"I'm sorry it had to come to this. I'm sure you understand that having Alastor around is for your own protection, especially after today, but I don't mean to restrict your movements."

With a grimace, Harry turned back to the doorway and stepped out, followed by Mad-eye Moody who for once did not don the Invisibility Cloak, but stayed close to Harry as they walked towards Gryffindor Tower.

"In here, Potter," Moody growled as they passed an empty classroom with the door wide open.

They stepped into the room and Moody sealed the door behind them.

"I don't know what Albus is up to," he began, "but I've had enough of his games. He thinks he can treat you like a child and get away with it because he has done for so long, but its time that you stood your own ground."

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked.

"First of all, he should have told you that I was going to be keeping an eye on you around the school. I know you found out anyway, but I'm sure you can't have been happy about it. Dumbledore thinks you need to be watched, but daren't protect you too obviously because he thinks it'll get back to You-know-Who.

"He told me not to interfere, but if you're going to have students throwing Unforgivables around, I need to be able to stop them, not just ignore it like I did on the train up here. For that reason alone, I'd be ignoring his orders.

"Okay, with that out of the way, I need to tell you a few other things. He could have told you the prophecy years ago, and probably should have, but more importantly, he knew about you being an agent of choice long before John Christopher told you, but kept that from everyone. He's always been worried that once you found out, it would be the catalyst for the decision to be made - in other words you have to understand your role before it could happen."

"So when he told me there was no other interpretation of the prophecy than I would be murderer or murdered, he was lying?" Harry asked.

"Probably bending the truth, rather than lying, since he normally doesn't lie outright," Moody suggested. "I'm sure it wasn't exactly helpful though. If you'd been undergoing proper training from an early age, you'd have been in a much better position to deal with He-who-must-not-be-named when you first met him.

"Anyway, what I mean to tell you, is that you should listen carefully to what Albus says. The way he avoids answering questions can be just as revealing as any actual information he gives you, and you should be wary of trusting his answers outright."

Harry grimaced. "I'm starting to get that feeling. But why?"

Moody scratched his head. "I'm not totally sure. It might be simply that he wants to make sure he has control over everything. You must have seen the way that he seems to know everything that's going on around here, even when that would seem impossible, and he likes to push the pieces of the puzzle around at his leisure."

Harry vaguely recalled the book that lay back in his trunk in the dormitory, the one that Remus and the twins had given him for his birthday, and once again wondered if it held the secrets to Dumbledore's knowledge of Hogwarts.

Harry shook his head to clear it of the annoyance that was building in his mind at Dumbledore's actions over the years. He'd more or less forgotten that it was the Headmaster's actions that had led to him spending his formative years with the Dursleys and that he had to return there every summer, but it still rankled with him that even though he effectively had no proper guardian there seemed to be any number of people in the wizarding world who felt it was there place to tell him what he should do.

He nodded curtly at the older man, acknowledging his point, and asked a seemingly unrelated question.

"Can you tell me how to get into the First-year common room?"

Moody chuckled, a grim sound if you didn't realise that was what he was doing.

"Up to something?"

"Not at all, actually."

Moody paused for a moment as though considering his request, then shrugged.

"Follow me."

He stepped out of the room and Harry followed him through numerous corridors and down two flights of stairs. One of these stairways had a tendency to move, Harry recalled, and mentioned it out loud.

"Observant sort, are you?" Moody noted with an upward quirk of his remaining eyeball. "There's a reason why they move, you know - it's the only stairway that leads directly to this part of the castle."

He left Harry to ponder that as they unobtrusively followed a group of first years who were making their way back to their common room after lunch.

They followed them a little further and waited a few yards back as the group stopped at a door that Harry hadn't come across before on his journeys around the castle. Even from where Harry stood he clearly heard the youngster at the front utter the password 'tantellegra' and led his classmates through the door.

Moody raised an eyebrow at him, and waved him forward. "It's that easy, son," he noted.

Harry smiled and shrugged, stepping up to the door.

"Tantellegra," he muttered, and watched as the door opened for him.

'I really must get them to be more careful with the password,' he thought as he stepped into the common room.

The room was a lot larger than it appeared from out in the corridor. It wasn't anywhere near the size of the Gryffindor one, but that was to be expected, given that at one time there had been nearly twice as many students at Hogwarts than in modern times.

Sometimes Hermione was full of useful information that just popped up and hit you when you least expected it, and one small section of 'Hogwarts - A History' she had read out to him and Ron had included this little titbit of information.

It didn't really matter though. The common room was lavishly decorated, and the students looked comfortable in their surroundings. The colour scheme was very neutral, as though to ensure that none of the House affiliations was too strong, but the blazing fire and comfy-looking armchairs made it very reminiscent of the Gryffindor room, to Harry's eyes.

The most noticeable thing about the room though, was the twenty or so pairs of eyes that were looking up at him expectantly, no doubt wondering what Harry was doing there, since it was supposed to be their own private place.

The stares unnerved Harry slightly, and he almost forgot why he'd come here.

"Erm. Are you all here?" he asked, to a few giggles.

"No, but I can get the others from their dorms," one of them said, and dashed off through a wide archway to Harry's right at his nod.

"You aren't supposed to be in here though, are you?" the precocious Nicola Mavelli asked him.

Harry shook his head slowly. "I'll explain in a moment, if that's okay - when everyone's here?"

Nicola looked him up and down, slightly disdainfully, before agreeing. "Fine," she said shortly, turning away from him abruptly.

One of the girls sat next to her elbowed her in the ribs, and she let out a sigh of frustration.

"Okay! Okay!" she acquiesced a little irritably, before turning back to Harry with a giggle she couldn't quite stifle.

"Actually you're welcome to stay - I was just trying to wind you up." The giggle became a throaty laugh. "I'm sure some of the girls wouldn't mind you staying in our rooms permanently," she added flirtatiously, to the gasps of a number of them, and to the increasing redness of Harry's cheeks.

He fought the urge to simply tell them that they were far too young for that sort of thing, but it just made him even more embarrassed at the thought of trying to tell these eleven and twelve year olds about that sort of thing.

"I'm afraid I'm spoken for," he resorted to informing them, to a few barely stifled groans amongst some of those hidden from his sight.

Once all the first years had assembled, Harry looked down at them. They had expectant looks on their faces, and it seemed as though they were prepared to listen, so he launched into it.

"I just wanted to warn you all to stick together," he said, looking around the room. A few puzzled faces looked back at him, so he continued.

"This afternoon, not all that long ago, I came across three sixth years who were picking on one of you." He decided not to mention any names, just in case it made the situation worse, but he felt he had to warn them. "If you're going from one class to another, please try and stick together in groups - if one of you gets separated you're a pretty easy target for some of the older boys and girls. You might not be Sorted into Houses now, but some people will pick on you anyway, just because they enjoy bullying those smaller than themselves."

Harry's eyes finally found those of the youngster he'd rescued from the hands of Malfoy and his goons, and he nodded in recognition.

"I don't want you to be afraid. It's difficult enough settling in here without living in fear, but I think you should try and go around in groups, rather than on your own."

A fair number of them nodded, agreeing with Harry.

"What if we don't like everyone though?" one young girl asked.

"You don't have to be friends with everybody," Harry explained, "just don't leave them on their own, especially if there are no teachers around. I know this is going to sound a bit hypocritical coming from me, but I don't think you should be dashing off by yourselves."

There were a few grumbles, but for the most part, the first years accepted his points, and Harry turned to leave.

"You can stay if you want," Nicola suggested mischievously.

"Thank you," Harry replied, not rising to the bait. "However, it's more or less time for afternoon classes to start, and I'm sure you don't want to be late."

He smiled at the young girl, and pulled open the door to the common room to head for the Great Hall, amused at the flurry of activity behind him as the first years gathered their books together for their afternoon lessons.

Dumbledore's announcement over dinner that evening was typically low-key. Although he didn't mention Harry's name, simply stating that Draco had been expelled for attempting to use the Cruciatus curse on another student, there were quite a number of the older students who looked to Harry for an explanation, almost in the knowledge that there probably wasn't anyone else at the school that the Slytherin would have been trying to curse in that manner.

What surprised Harry was that Dumbledore also announced that Crabbe and Goyle were on probation. Professor McGonagall's briefing by the first year involved had obviously been fuller than Harry had imagined, since their guilt lay only in the bullying of the young lad. He admired the youngster's courage in speaking out about his own predicament as well as Harry's.

After his little talk with the first years, Harry had elected not to sit with them for dinner. He didn't really want to end up flanked by potential fan-girls, especially after Nicola's comments, but even sat with Ginny and some of the fifth years at the Gryffindor table, he was approached by Blaise Zabini.

"Congratulations, Potter," he grinned, holding out a hand for Harry to shake. "I've been trying to get rid of him for years. Not sure I was prepared to take a Cruciatus for it though."

Harry noted the new badge pinned to the Slytherin's robes, and his eyes opened in surprise. "You're replacing Malfoy as prefect?" he asked.

"Well, Snape could hardly give the job to Crabbe or Goyle, could he? Even if they weren't being disciplined themselves, they don't really have the authority needed."

"And you do?" Harry cringed as he said the words, knowing that they sounded particularly insulting. Blaise just grinned back at him though.

"Well I'm not a junior Death Eater, and I haven't been following Malfoy around like those two baboons for the last five years, so yes. I have a few friends, too, I just don't parade them around."

Harry shrugged. "Well it's good to know that I don't have to watch out for a poisoned knife in my back quite so often now," he admitted, "though I'm intrigued to know how your House-mates are taking the news."

Blaise responded with his own eloquent shrug.

"Mixed, to be honest. Some of the seventh years aren't very happy with you, so you'll still have to keep an eye out for them, and of course Parkinson is totally distraught, but there are a lot in the lower years that are really happy about it.

"Malfoy didn't make a lot of friends among the younger ones - he used to intimidate them for his own ends, especially when he couldn't get the better of you - and they'll probably thank you for whatever it was you did."

Blaise tilted his head sideways as though trying to figure something out.

"You don't really care about Malfoy now he's gone, do you?"

"Not really," Harry replied. "He was just a nuisance, more than anything else."

"Remind me never to get on your bad side, Potter," he noted, turning to leave.

Harry turned briefly to look at Ginny, who just shrugged. "He hasn't got a bad side, Blaise," she smirked.

The Slytherin just raised an eyebrow and headed back to his own table.

"Well that was interesting," Ginny noted.

"What was?"

"I think you've just made another Slytherin friend," she chuckled, ruffling his hair.

"Another?"

"Well you're already friends with Matthias and Irene, aren't you?"

"I guess so."

"There you go then. Those two aren't a bad sort at all, and Blaise seems fairly decent."

"What? For a Slytherin?"

"Well yes, but in general too. There's not many that would cross the Hall to talk with Slytherin's deadly rival, the mighty Harry Potter, Boy-who-Lived!"

"Aww, hush," Harry muttered as he blushed yet again.

Ginny rolled her eyes and turned back to her food with a gentle shrug.

"It's true,"

"Well, okay. But don't you go spouting all that stuff off when there're people around to hear you," he half-pleaded, seeing the glimmer of amusement in her eyes.

"Or what?" she challenged.

Harry didn't really have much of a response to that, and went silent for a moment.

His mind went back to the nightmares about Ginny he'd been having, and for a moment considered trying to talk to her about them, but then, as he was opening his mouth to say something, he was nudged by Hermione wanting to talk about their Transfiguration essay, and by the time he turned back to Ginny she was engaged in a heated discussion about Quidditch and he lost his nerve again.


Just a quick reminder that you can find further updates on my Yahoo! group here: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ChoicesandConsequences/?yguid=152618619 along with a list of OWL results and NEWT classes, and a timetable for the 6th year classes.