Red Tide Rising

It was the middle May, and it was hardly ten degrees! Briar was outraged, since back 'home' in Canada it would be nearly thirty. And that was Celsius, as well! Nearly beach weather!

"Briar, relax, please," Malachi muttered irritably. He didn't bother to look up from the great dusty book he was investigating. "Your pacing is irritating."

"And you sound like Snape," she retorted. Even that didn't get his head out of the damned book. "Stop being such a Tome Raider, and pay attention to me!"

Sighing, Malachi pulled his head up and closed the book over his hand- so he wouldn't lose his place, natch. "What's the matter, Briar? You've been strange for weeks now. Are you alright?"

"Maybe I'm just feeling ignored," Briar said, trying not to sound needy. "Or maybe there's something I've wanted to speak with you about, but you've been so damn busy!"

"Briar, I have not been ignoring you, so what is it? What!" Malachi demanded again, through clenched teeth, when she spun away from him. He looked about to pull his hair out. He didn't look sympathetic or interested or even concerned. Bastard!

"Well, never mind, if you're going to be like that," she sniffed over her shoulder. Turning her back on Malachi, just as his exasperated growl turned into a snarl, she went to peruse the books lining his study. "You haven't any texts on Vampires?" she asked coldly, knowing full well he didn't, and why he didn't.

"Briar!" he bit out, spinning her back to face him. His very good-looking face, usually lit with an easy-going charm, was livid. "You know damn well I haven't anything on Vampires, or Giants, or Acromantulas, or Sphinx's, or whatever it is that you fancy this hour. Now tell me, please, what the hell is the matter? You've not been yourself for so long, it's hard to remember why we're together!" Malachi seemed to register his mistake the moment his mouth closed, and it immediately opened again. "I didn't mean that! What I meant was that you're not this woman, Briar! You hate this type of woman, who needs all the attention a man has. Briar, this isn't you."

He tried to nuzzle into her neck, but she managed, barely, to throw him back. "How would you know? We barely know each other!"

"Briar, we've known each other for ten years!" Malachi shouted. He was just angry because she had managed to push him. Typical man, needing to be big and strong. That's what she liked about him most, of course, but not at this moment. "What is the matter?" he demanded again.

"Nothing! Nothing, nothing, nothing!" Briar shouted back. She was about to break something when there was a knock on the door. "So- lucky-" she warned at Malachi's back as he stormed to the door and tore it ajar.

"Longbottom?"

"Er- hello, Professor O'Neill. I was told Professor Gryffindor was here?" a slightly nervous voice said. Briar pushed Malachi away from the door and smiled. "Oh, hi, Professor! Oh, you don't look very good. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Neville," she replied, although she was tempted to tell the truth. "Is there something you needed?"

"Yes," Neville said. He took a huge breath. "I need you to sign this." He handed her a slip of parchment and she scanned it quickly while moving towards the desk in the corner. Then she did a double-take and came up sputtering.

"Neville! This is a withdrawal slip! This says you want to drop my class," she said, as if maybe he didn't understand what it was for. She hadn't expected it, but she was hurt. Briar had not expected to care about stuff like this, slacker kids who couldn't cut it. But- but, Neville wasn't a slacker! He wasn't, and he had fought like hell to keep up in the beginning of class. The improvement was fantastic, brilliant. Neville made it all worthwhile, really. "Neville, why? You came to me, on the first day. You barely made your OWL, but you came to me and asked for a place in the class. And I gave it to you. Why do you want to drop it now, when you're doing so well?"

"Well? I can hardly keep up, I slow my group down, and I can't imagine why you made me Captain of my Ambush Squad, except that you felt bad for me. I've got the lowest mark in the class, I'm sure, if you don't count Pansy Parkinson or Smith or Mandy. I'm not going to pass, Professor, and I don't want not to. So I'm dropping it, and taking what I've learnt so far."

Briar gaped at Neville for a moment. "Come in and sit down. Malachi, will you excuse us a moment?" she asked, turning the evil eye on him to be sure he'd acquiescence. He left without saying a word. "Neville, you're not failing my class."

"Oh, even better, a pity pass," the boy said with such vehemence Briar searched his face. Well, well, well. It seems Neville has grown quite a bit since September. His face, still round, was showing a bit of stubble, and his Adam's Apple bobbed as he swallowed. His eyes were the most convincing change though; they were aware and bright and very calm- calm for Neville, at least. It seemed every student had those eyes, cold, calm and ready; it was frightening to see hundreds of little Briar's running around the school. "Professor, I know I'm a duffer. I always have. But I always refused to give up before, no matter what. But now Professor, I have to learn to take a clue. I'm not very good at much, but what I am good at, I should concentrate on."

"Like Herbology?" Neville nodded. "And Care of Magical Creatures." Another nod. "And Defense." Neville's eyes hardened. "Neville, you great yob! You're not failing, you're not doing badly, and you're certainly not struggling anymore. At first, yes, you had trouble, but now? You're one of my best students, Neville, at the top of the class, not the bottom."

"But, I'm always messing up," Neville protested.

"No your not! Neville, shut up and listen. You are very good at Defense. In fact, according to McGonagall, you've improved in everything since you got a new wand over summer. She is impressed, and I am doubly so. At the beginning of the year, I didn't care how many students I taught because I wasn't expecting more than two or three to pass my standards. But nearly all the class is passing, and you're near the top. And even if you weren't, Neville, I wouldn't sign that sheet. Let you give up when we have six weeks left? No."

"But if I fail my exam, or my NEWTs, I'll never get a good job!"

"I'd pull every string I could to get you the job you wanted, Neville. You've worked so hard, and I wouldn't do anything to endanger that. But Neville, I wouldn't worry about passing your NEWTs. We finished the sixth-year curriculum in February, and the topics your having problems with now are in the seventh-year syllabus. You are going to breeze through next year."

Neville was shocked. "I- I am? I mean, we are? I mean- what?" He paused a moment to breathe. "We've passed the sixth-year curriculum, and we're now doing seventh-year training?" Neville looked doubtful. When had that skepticism crept into his eyes? It didn't belong there! "Are you sure, Professor? You mean what you've said?"

"Yes, absolutely," Briar swore. "Neville, I understand I've been pushing all of you to the breaking point. And I know I may have undermined a bit of your confidence, but not without good reason," she said. "I've seen brilliant wizards and witches struck down because of pride; pride in their talents, surety in their superiority. I don't want that to be the end of any of my students, Neville, so if I push a little harder, if I don't give enough encouragement... Don't think I'm not pleased, and don't think I'm not rooting for all of you to master Defense. Honestly, Neville, I've too much at stake to allow the good guys to go undefended.

"But, Neville, just as some wizards were arrogant and died, there are just as many who were meek are dead. Don't let your past dictate what you can do today, and tomorrow. You are a talented Wizard, Neville. I would rather have you by my side in a battle than several older, more accomplished wizards, simply because you're not going to get me killed, you're not going to let me down. I chose you for Captain of your squad because you impressed me with resilience and loyalty, and may I point out that your team is still in the running, only competing against three others? You impress me, and that's why this is so upsetting." Briar didn't feel so good, suddenly. She was going to vomit. "Neville, I'm going to be sick," she gasped. "Go, we'll talk about this more tomorrow."

"Do you need anything, Professor?"

"No, just go," Briar cried as she dodged to the lavatory. Fifteen minutes later, when she lurched out again, Malachi was standing by the window, peering out into the late evening. "Malachi," Briar began. He flipped around at her voice, and began to pace.

"Are you alright? I was waiting outside- Neville said you were sick," he said, his voice accusing. He was still pacing. "I was going to help you, but- but you locked the door."

"You know how to unlock a door, surely, Professor O'Neill," Briar said. "You have several brothers."

"Briar, you didn't want me in there with you!" Now he was accusing her, outright. His face was tight, all the lines formed from laughing (was he really only twenty-eight?) had disappeared. "Briar. I- what have I done?" he asked. "What, that you would lock me out?"

Briar sighed. "Nothing. I'm just pissy and sick and tired. I need to sleep." She began to move towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Malachi asked.

"To my chambers," Briar answered. His face dropped. Exasperated, Briar heaved a sigh. "Malachi, we are not living together, after all. We haven't even sworn not to see other people."

"You're not, are you?" Malachi demanded, grasping her wrist. He had covered the distance between them in two strides. "Are you?" His eyes were narrowed and searching her face. "Scratch? Or Charlie? Or that other bloke, the blarney bloke with the perfect fingernails? You aren't seeing someone else?"

"No! And I'm a little insulted. Scratch is simply my friend, the one I can tell everything to. And Charlie and I didn't work out; he makes me laugh. And Daniel is an old friend who solves my problems when I can't think of what to do; why in Merlin's name would I be interested in him?"

Malachi cursed and shook his head. "I want to that man, Briar. Or, rather, all three. I want to make you laugh, and have you tell me everything, and solve your problems for you. Briar, it just seems as if there are no vacancies in your life."

"But you are in my life," Briar assured him. "Chi, you are."

"No, I'm in your bed, Briar. And that's not enough today."

"And I suppose you have a solution, Chi?"

"Yes!" he whispered emphatically. "Marry me! Briar, marry me, be with me always, and I promise never to ignore you or take you for granted. I'll become that man who you can go to for everything, Briar. And we'll have children," he continued, his voice breaking a little. "Briar, please."

Pain flashed through Briar, effecting her so violently she almost imagined it to be real and physical. But it wasn't, it was simple regret. Regret that she couldn't say yes, that she wouldn't- she had promised her life to something else. Oh, it would be lovely to say yes- perfect, really- and she could live her life with him by her side, always, as he had promised. But how would that be possible, now, with Voldemort? No, she had to remain vigilant and aware, not stupid satiated with Malachi's love and body. No, it was better she slept every night, shivering with cold, but aware, than secure in Malachi's arms and exhausted by their efforts.

She looked up at Malachi. Tall and strong, his biceps the size of her thighs, his neck thick with muscles and his chest was solid. It was more than one would expect from a historian. His face was so handsome it often took her breath away; his eyes were coal black and burned with any emotion he felt. His skin a soft white, his cheekbones slashed horizontally across his face, drawing attention back to those soulful eyes. His chin was square and covered with stubble, his nose straight, with a dusting a loose freckles. And around it all, perfectly framing his face in an accidental way, was his chin-length, black hair. And he had dimples and crows feet and a scar on his chin. If there was any man who could give her what was promised, it was Malachi O'Neill; she actually loved a man.

She actually loved a man. Musing, trying to detach herself from the pain in her chest- and the nauseas feeling in the pit of her stomach- she wondered why she should fall in love now, when it was so inconvenient. Sure, she'd been told love came when it chose, but she'd also heard that love comes when your ready. There was no way Briar was ready for love, not now, when she wasn't ready for tomorrow, let alone forever.

Briar sighed heavily. "Malachi," she said softly, lifting her hand to his cheek. Her hand was so small compared to the size of his head, as his hand was so large compared to hers. It was a marvel. "Malachi, we can't do this, not now. Maybe not ever, but certainly not now."

His eyes glowed with misery, and she felt herself choke back tears, her face crumpling.

"Briar, we have to be happy now, before it's too late. We can be happy and fight at the same time," he whispered. She even loved his voice, smooth and low and lilting with Inishtogue and happy days and memories that she didn't shudder at. "Please, Briar, I love you sure, and I will be with you always if you'll let me."

But Briar didn't want to share the horrific memories of what was to come with the stupid happy joy she would have with Malachi. She wanted those memories completely separate, so when she was old she could look back on Malachi with completely pure remembrance. "How long will we have together, Chi, if we're happy and content while Voldemort's around? We can't be stupid with love, not now. We need our wits together, they're our only chance at living another day."

He shook his head. "You're my only chance at living- today or any other day. Without you, it wouldn't be worth it, Briar," he murmured. His eyes held hers, begging her to accept the unacceptable.

"Chi, I'm not going any where! We simply can't, and I shan't, ignore our duty to the community," she breathed. She wanted to say more, that she was sorry, that she loved him, but that would only encourage him. Still, the idea of Chi not being in her life was too painful to imagine. "I need you, Malachi, and I need you alive. We just need to get through these next few years, and we'll be together forever, like you want." She paused. "Like I want, too."

His eyes were closed, but not in defeat. His shoulders straightened and he gave Briar a strong hug. "You're right. I know it too; I just hate to admit anything should stand in my way. But once Voldemort is dead and gone, I'll be asking again."

"Fair warning? Your very honourable today," Briar laughed. Relief had flipped through her body at his words, and she couldn't imagine happiness being any sweeter than this. Casually, she wondered what it would be like, when she was Malachi's wife.

****

Life didn't get easier as the term progressed. Harry had too much work to do in any one class; combined, he couldn't keep up. Or rather he could, but he didn't feel he was doing very well. His average grade was up from fifth-year, however; Flitwick graded him at 'E', as did Sprout. He had an 'O' in Defense, Herbology and in Care of Magical Creatures, but only an 'A' in Transfiguration, which as a Metamorphmagus, McGonagall didn't seem to think was acceptable at all. She piled special work on him.

He didn't really know how he was doing in Potions, because Snape, though less snarly in class since late October, was still grading his work quite differently than anyone else's. He'd actually received a 'T' on his last assignment, which he'd written with Dean. Though the papers were different, the information had been the same, and Dean had received an 'A'. That didn't matter though, because Snape didn't mark his NEWT, and he had resolved to let it all wash over him. He was bigger than Snape.

Overall he couldn't complain. Gryffindor had won the Quidditch Cup, which was even better this year than in third because he and Ron were both on the team now, and Co-Captains. Ginny was on the team, as well, which had presented plenty of opportunities for wonderful, slightly soggy, snogging.

He couldn't believe he had hesitated about asking Ginny out. It was quite possibly the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to him, if you discounted a Troll in the girls bathroom or Malfoy tossing Neville's Rememberall into the air. Ginny didn't seem sweet anymore; sweet would have been insulting to her sense of life. She was extraordinary, brilliant, funny, beautiful... he was completely smitten.

Ginny didn't seem so entirely taken with him, though; he felt like a piece of meat. He hadn't expected her to be all for him, but a little more attention would be nice- he could always do with more of her particular brand of attention. He wouldn't say anything though- he saw how the other boys were with their girls, and he knew he wasn't supposed to complain about being less important than schoolwork or Dueling Club or the newspaper. Dean and Seamus and Ron, when he had a girl he was falling in and out of love with, seemed relieved when Padma or Parvati or this week Mandy Brocklehurst, didn't have the time to be with them. They celebrated by fooling around and having 'time with the lads'.

But, and maybe something was seriously wrong with him- always a possibility, thanks to ten affection and attention starved years with the Dursleys- Harry wanted to be around Ginny more than some of the time, and more than just a quick meet in a deserted classroom. He didn't care if it was silently in the Library or out on the Quidditch Pitch or walking to breakfast, lunch, or dinner. He simply needed to be around her.

Before they'd started dating he'd never thought about how much time he'd spent with her, or anyone. But now it seemed he allotted time to everyone; Hermione and Ron and Neville while working on the paper or classes and relaxing in the Common Room before the panic of that days work set in, Dean during Potions, Seamus, Parvati and Lavender during meals and classes, and Ginny whenever they had the chance. Other friends, like Ernie and Justin, Morag and Blaise, and even Draco, or Susan Bones, Hannah Abbott and any other girl he'd become friends with while Ron dated them- well, they got whatever time they could take between classes, studying, Ginny, Quidditch, the newspaper, Dueling Club and his Gryffindor friends.

But everyone was busy, much more so than the year before when they'd had OWLs. Harry studied more this year, with less classes, than he had ever thought to in fifth-year. Ginny and the other fifth-years were so tense it was nearly cute, until professor's starting talking about this years final exams. Professor McGonagall had giving them a list of four hundred different spells they may be tested on in June- divided neatly into eight different types of Transfiguration. Sprout had given them nearly the same thing, only hers were divided into terrestrial or non-terrestrial, carnivorous or nutrient-gathering and such. Flitwick and Hagrid's revision notes weren't as exhaustive but were still daunting. Snape and Gryffindor hadn't bothered telling them what to review, though Gryffindor had offered to chant a Druidic good luck Charm for any who were worried. She had seemed serious; then she'd ordered them all to attend one last night class.

It was eleven o'clock on the last night of May, but it was a Friday and tomorrow they could all sleep in. Assembled on the dewy grass, stretching their arms and braiding their hair or tightening their shoe-laces and muttering counter-curses under their breath, the sixth-year NEWT Defense students were ready for their last night class of the term. They hadn't had one in two weeks when they'd practiced casting spells at fast moving shadows, and deciphering how far away and in which direction a particular noise had been. All in all, Harry rather enjoyed these classes. He thought Gryffindor might be the best Defense Against the Dark Arts professor he'd ever had, although the competition was really only between her and Lupin.

Waiting until the students seemed to stop preparing themselves, Gryffindor stood silently at the front of their gaggle. She peered at each one, lit by the pale New Moon, and seemed to be thinking deeply. She had a broomstick clenched in one hand and a whistle around her neck.

"Alright," she called. "Listen up. I know you've all been killing yourselves with your revision schedule and my little heart gave a beat of sympathy. So, to help your revision in June, your doing your exam tonight."

Gasps and cries of fright and disbelief rang out. "But, Professor!" Hermione moaned. "I haven't finished all my revision!"

"How are we to write an exam outside in the dark?" Zacarias Smith called.

"Well, Smith, you aren't going to write it. You are going to perform it," she said. "And Ms. Granger, I don't think you should worry. This exam is worth fifty percent of ten percent of your grade. You will have a short written exam on Monday, but that won't be much worry. I've made sure you're all very prepared."

"This isn't fair Professor!" Smith cried.

"Mr. Smith, I seriously suggest you develop some character," Gryffndor said in a harsh voice. Leaning over, she retrieved something, but the class could hear her mutter, "Fair? Fair? Really!" Several students hid their smiles.

There were still protests but Professor Gryffindor halted them by simply raising her voice over them. "In this hat are your names. I'll draw two names first and they'll be team Captains. Then I'll draw the rest as team members." She dug her hand into her hat and pulled two names. "Su Li and... Neville Longbottom. Step forward." Neville and Su stood on either side of Gryffindor. Neither seemed very happy.

"Li's team will be composed of: Parvati Patil, McDougal, Parkinson, Corner, Smith, Potter, Finnegan, Boot, Bones, MacMillan and Abbott. Longbottom's team will therefore be composed of: Padma Patil, Granger, Weasley, Brown, Thomas, Jones, Malfoy, Zabini, Cornfoot, Brocklehurst and Fitch-Fletchley."

Harry groaned inside. Neville got everyone who was any good, besides Morag and Seamus.

"Now the exam is a mixture of two games, Capture the Flag and Storm the Castle. The objective is two-fold; you will seek to capture the other teams flag and return it to your base-" she brandished two flags, one purple and one orange, "-and you will also try to infiltrate the other teams base of operations. Li's team will use the Broomstick Shed as their base while Longbottom's team will be based in Hagrid's hut, which he has kindly let us borrow for this exercise. So no screwing around, no property damage, and absolutely no pranks."

"Professor?" Hermione raised her hand. "How will you be able to grade us all?"

"Well, tonight, I'll just be flying around, refereeing this game. But I've got this book-" she lifted a large book from the ground. "It tells me all the engagements, spells and counters that are cast. When a team has accomplished an objective, you send sparks into the air. When both objectives have been met, the exam is over."

"And you'll mark us later?" Harry asked.

"Yes. These Self-Scribing books are a marvel. I'm leaving it here, but trust me when I say that tampering with this book will mean a rather uncomfortable few weeks," she warned, a suspicious glance towards a few of the students. "And no, I don't trust a single one of you." Again, several students hid their smiles. "So, off to your bases. I'll give you five minutes to talk out strategy before I start the game."

Harry marched with the rest of his team to the Broom Shed. Once they got there, everyone began telling Su what to do.

"Hey, shut it," Seamus said. "Su's Captain."

"Shut up, Finnegan," Smith said. "Su, we should just bombard them. Send everyone out after their flag, and storm Hagrid's hut."

"Brilliant, Smith," Harry said. "But who's to say that they'll keep their flag in the hut?"

"Su, what are we going to do?" Hannah asked. Unfortunately, Su didn't seem like she had a clue.

"I suppose- uh, Harry and Seamus should stay here, and guard the shed. The rest of us will go out and look for the flag. Once we've found the flag, we'll go after the base?" She did not sound confident.

"No!" Terry Boot cried. "We should try to take the base, first, and then go for the flag. We know where the base is," he pointed out.

"Yeah, and we should keep more than two to guard our base. Where will we hide the flag?" Harry asked.

"Can't guard a simple building, Potter?" Smith jeered.

"That's it! Sorry, Su, but I'm taking over," Morag announced. Su didn't seem the least bit upset. "Harry, Seamus and Parvati will stay here, guard the base. They're our Gryffindor contingent. The Hufflepuff's, Hannah, Smith, Ernie, Susan and Stephen, will storm Hagrid's hut- play dirty, all right?" The Hufflepuff's nodded. "So Pansy, myself, Terry and Su will go and try to find the flag. We'll hide ours in the Broom Shed. They won't think we'd hid it there."

Just then, a loud firecracker went off above then. "Go team!" Morag shouted. When the Hufflepuff's put their hands in the center of the huddle, Morag clarified. "No, I mean it. Let's go!"

And without a bloody backwards glance, they left three bewildered Gryffindor's in their wake.

"Umm," Seamus began. "What do we do, then, Morag?" he shouted. But Morag was gone. "Guard this? But how? What's the password?"

"She didn't have time," Parvati said. "We'll just have to ask them who our real leader is..."

"Let's sort this out, then," Harry said, entering the Broom Shed and hiding the flag behind a bench. "That good enough?" he asked. The others shrugged. "So, I guess one of us should stay inside-"

"Me!" Parvati declared, right as Seamus was gaining his voice.

"Okay, you, Parvati. Seamus and me will go outside and guard," Harry said.

"Oh, but, one to the front and left, and one to the rear and back," Parvati reminded them. "Oh, and get some lights up. Use the Solaris Charm. Oh, and call for help if you are attacked. Oh, no, not for help, but let me know so I can be on guard. In fact, I want you two calling an all's clear every minute so I know."

"Parvati, chill!" Seamus groaned.

"Get out of my Broom Shed, Seamus!" Parvati demanded, her chin in the air and her hands on her hips. "I won't be spoken to like that."

Groaning, Seamus and Harry left the Shed. "Honestly, Harry, you'd think she was a queen or something."

"You're dating her, not me. You want front or back?" Harry asked as he raised his wand. "Solaris!" Harry called, only to have the area lighten a bit.

"You take front," Seamus said. Raising his wand, he too cast the Solaris Charm, but his was much better. "I like the rear- get that grin off your face, you pervert! You know what I mean."

"Not particularly, no," Harry said, laughing as he began a jog thirty yards away. Hiding behind a rock for cover, he peered out into the area. The Solaris Charm wasn't such a perfect idea, since he couldn't see very far in the dark, but the light wasn't strong enough to really restrict his vision. "All's clear!" Harry shouted after surveying the area.

Nothing happened.

About five all's clears later, Harry thought he heard something in the Broom Shed. "Parvati?" Harry called. "Are you alright?"

Her voice, weakened by distance, replied, "Yes, just tripped, that's all!"

Resuming his post, Harry continued watching, until something odd happened. About ten feet to his left, something invisible tripped over a small rock and sent it skittering. "Hey!" Harry shouted, drawing his wand and throwing an Imobilius Charm the way of invisible thing. A startled shriek fell into the air, and whoever the invisible person was, they had been carrying the team's orange flag.

Harry darted and snatched it up, although he had to tug it from someone's hands. A flash of light made contact with the air in front of Harry and whoever it was fell over with a thud. "Their Disillusioned, Harry!" Seamus shouted as he ran up to the door of the Shed. He glanced in. "Parvati's out cold!"

Harry groped around for the bodies of the enemy, muttering a few 'sorry's' as he realized both of them were girls, and they probably didn't want him touching them there- it was an honest mistake, honestly! Not his fault he immediately recognized one of the girls as Blaise.

Getting a firm grasp on Blaise's head, he countered the Disillusionment Charm and tied her up with roped. "How's Parvati?" he called as he turned to the next. It was Padma.

"Yeah, she's okay now," Seamus said at his shoulder, startling him half to death. "I'll take them into the base-"

"No! Take the flag back, but I'm keeping them here. Two against one, even tied and without wands aren't good odds for Parvati."

"Right," Seamus said. He took the flag and headed back to the Shed. A moment before he entered, an explosion of orange sparks went off above them. "Yes!" Seamus cried. "maybe now they'll send someone over to help?"

"Yeah. Hey, do you know any surveillance Charms, so we'll know when someone enters the area?" Harry asked. There was a Charm, tickling around the back of his brain, but he couldn't remember it.

"No, sorry, mate. Wait a minute, I'll ask Parvati," came Seamus's reply. "No, she can't think of one either."

Just then, Morag and Terry came out of the darkness, both limping. "Tag, your it," Morag said with a laugh. "We'll guard this, you and Finnegan get out there. We've taken the hut, now we need the flag. No clue where it is, though. Hermione and Ron completely destroyed Terry. I had to save him, heroically," Morag said. Terry snorted. "The others are fine, though. Ernie was taken captive, but we freed him when we took Hagrid's."

"Okay," Harry said. Seamus was already beside him, checking his shoelaces. "Padma and Blaise got into the shed using Disillusionment Charms, so watch for that. They got the flag, but Blaise tripped over a rock."

Morag found that hilarious and mocked Blaise for those 'long legs'. "Get going, Potter. No slacking! I know you Gryffindor types, just want to laze around all day." At this point Harry and Seamus disappeared into the darkness, but Harry had a feeling Morag would still be renouncing the Gryffindor habits when they returned.

The darkness of night was different from the soft light of the area around the shed. Between the shed and Hagrid's hut were greenhouses, the Quidditch Pitch, the Whomping Willow, and several other things to give cover and hide enemy. Dodging in and out of cover was more tiring than Harry thought it would be, and it was harder with Seamus than it would be alone; together, they had to squeeze behind rocks or under the seats at the Quidditch Pitch.

While they were dodging their way between greenhouses, Harry spotted Ron ducking between greenhouses as well. Signaling to Seamus for cover, Harry dived out of cover and sent a Disarming Charm towards Ron.

"Expelliarmus!" he shouted, running full out to catch Ron's wand.

"Damn!" Ron cried as he hit the ground, elbow first.

"Immoblius," Harry continued as he came within short stride of Ron. Having dealt with Ron, he signaled Seamus ahead of him to scout for other activity. A few moments later, Seamus returned.

"Nothing. Do you want to leave him here and continue, or take him back to base?"

"Take him back, I suppose. Too cold to leave him here," Harry rationalized. The truth was that he wouldn't leave Ron immobile, alone, and unable to shout for help. He'd broken the hearts of too many well-trained girls to leave him helpless with them running around. Charming Ron so that he could walk but could not move more than five feet ahead of them, and roping his hands behind his back, Harry prodded Ron in the back with his wand. "On with you, then."

Trudging back towards the greenhouses, still taking cover so as not to be seen, the group made it to the Quidditch Pitch quickly. Harry left Seamus to scout ahead- there was a long distance between the Pitch and the Shed, and very little cover. Not seeing anything ahead, he turned back...

And threw himself on the ground. There was a person scurrying among the seats, a person in dark robes and cloak- not a student in Harry's class, though. This person was fat and short, and though their face was covered in shadows, Harry knew it was an adult. Glancing to his left, he was glad to see Seamus and Ron were both on the ground, two hundred yards away from the person across the Pitch. Ron was moving now; he saw Harry glance in their direction and lifted his arm a bit to reveal his wand. He gestured for Harry to crawl up and get a better look.

Swallowing strongly, Harry began to crawl towards the figure. The person didn't seem to be doing anything, which seemed odd. Keeping to the shadows, Harry got close enough to cast a spell should he have to. Before he could though, another person joined the figure.

"I'm finished," the new person said brusquely.

"And?" asked the first person.

"And our allies are aware. That's what I meant when I said I was finished."

"There's a lot of students out here tonight. You're sure you weren't seen?"

"I was not seen. I am never seen."

"Of course not."

Harry knew he knew the voices- both of them, the first a man and the second a woman.

"Let's go," the woman said. Turning back the way she came, she leapt gracefully into shadow and out of Harry's view and range. The man though, took a look back around the Quidditch Pitch just as the moon came from behind some cloud: Wormtail.

Leaping from his hiding spot, Harry shouted curses and jinxes and spells. Wormtail went down quickly, easily. Across the field he could hear shouts and pounding feet as Seamus and Ron ran towards him and his prey. He could hear the woman shouting for Wormtail, running back towards him, coming closer.

He didn't care. He ran, tripping, crawling towards the rat that was responsible for so much- through Wormtail he could trace every thing that had made him miserable. Scooping his wand from the ground, Harry flung it behind him, back towards the shadows, away from his quarry. He jumped onto Wormtail, planting his knee into his stomach and leaning into his throat with his palms. The rat's eyes were large, fearfilled, and watery, his blubbery head spread out against the inky dark grass.

"Harry, no!" Ron shouted, as he leapt over the two and assumed a defensive stance, watching for Wormtail's partner. "Harry, get off him! Knock him out, Harry!"

Seamus was pulling him, trying to force him to obey Ron.

"Ron, you know who this is. This thing- they were talking about allies. Ron, allies, here at Hogwarts," Harry said through gritted teeth. He wasn't getting enough air, and his arms were sore- one final ram from Seamus knocked him lose from his victim. "Hey, fuck you!" he shouted.

An attack came from above. The woman was on broomstick, and diving at him at such speed that Harry and Ron had to flatten themselves against the grass. Seamus managed an Impedimenta Curse before he too ducked, but the spell was avoided by a sharp turn. Ron sent a wicked war cry into the air and launched himself at the woman as she ducked again- the collision sent both of them crashing into earth, the broomstick landing twenty feet away.

Jumping up from the ground the woman began cursing anything she could. Her hoods were down her back, and her face- one etched into Harry's mind forever, that of Bellatrix Lestrange- was filled with the same rage and madness as the last time Harry had seen it-

"You killed Sirius!" came a roar, ripped from his own throat but certainly not in his voice. Blood pounding into his face and his head felt heavy- a moment later, Harry realized he was flying through the air. A moment later he crashed ass first into the ground. Getting up quickly allowed him to trip twice before he regained his balance. Rushing back towards the fray, where Ron and Seamus were dueling two-to-one but gaining no ground, Harry launched his most effective Curse, the Tremorous Curse, to Bellatrix. She laughed as she set a Shielding Charm around herself.

"Poor ickle baby. Hasn't learned yet!" Bellatrix taunted. She sent the Curse back at Harry, and he just wasn't quick enough.

The pain wasn't so bad, really. Just a minor inconvenience. It was the tremors that shook his body, making it impossible to cast a spell, impossible to counter a spell, impossible to do anything but sink to his knees and then flat to his face. He could hear Bellatrix's deranged laughter. As he rolled over, shaking, he could see Wormtail crawling towards the broomstick she had swooped in on.

"R-Ron!" he cried, trying to point. Ron didn't hear him, too busy trying to defend himself against some spell or jinx. "S-Seamus!" Harry tried again. Seamus looked down at Harry and took a moment to counter Bellatrix's Curse.

Unfortunately, Bellatrix took the opportunity to Curse Seamus, and he crumpled to the ground right in front of Harry. Staring horrified at Seamus, who wasn't moving or moaning, Harry got shakily to his feet. "Ron," he cried, pointing towards Wormtail. "You stop him. I'll deal with her." Ron nodded and, sending one last Curse that Bellatrix countered easily, ran towards Wormtail.

Harry changed his angle slightly so that he could watch Ron's back while still covering Seamus and fight Bellatrix at the same time. She stood in front of him, looking at him with so much resemblance to Sirius- both physically, and with that haunting aura of Azkaban- that it was nearly difficult for Harry to raise his wand. But he did, and they began to duel.

Curses flew between the two of them, but none managed to find their target. To his left, Ron and Wormtail were also dueling, with Ron advancing quickly on his opponent. Seamus, at his feet, still did not move- and still he fought with Bellatrix.

Shouting came from behind him. Praying that help had arrived, Harry advanced on Bellatrix a few steps, but hastily retreated when she sent the Cruciatus Curse his way- an effective shield took some distance to work. He returned to her a Silencing Charm, hoping to buy some time for any allies to join the fray, but she was too quick, even if Charms traveled much quicker than Curses.

Ron had advanced to Wormtail, just steps away, when he failed to counter a Disarming spell and his wand was ripped away- he launched himself at Wormtail instead. Both fell to the ground, but Wormtail swiped at Ron with his silver hand and the loud, dull crunching sound that reverberated as contact was made sent Ron staggering to the ground, where he too lay unconscious.

A Stunning Charm hit Bellatrix straight in the chest as she had turned her head to look at what had caused the noise, and she stood there, completely frozen, just waiting for Harry to finish her off. He ran towards her quickly, wand raised, sure that allies were behind him to tend Seamus and Ron. His body was ahead of his voice, and he was motioning for the final Curse before he had any idea what he really planned to do.

"Ava-"

Professor Gryffindor swooped from the air and crashed into Bellatrix's back; the shock of the collision broke the Stunning Charm and Bellatrix regained her feet just as Professor Gryffindor did. Harry, unsure what to do, sent a Disarming Charm at Bellatrix- but Professor Gryffndor had a better idea. She swung her broom around from the handle and crashed it into the side of Bellatrix's head. A jet of light hit Bellatrix from behind Harry, and she fell.

Without missing a beat, Professor Gryffindor grasped the handle end of the broomstick, which had broken in two on impact with Bellatrix's head, and chucked it straight at Wormtail's retreating head, as if it were a knife. He managed to duck in time, jumped onto the first broomstick and ascended into the air.

"Accio broom! Accio broom!" Gryffindor shouted, but to no avail. Wormtail flew off into the night.

Silence covered the scene just a moment ago alit with battle. The only noise was the panting of people; everyone was panting. Harry, confused, turned in a full circle; Hermione was staring back at him, her face upturned from where she stood hunched over Seamus. Neville was advancing on the prostrate form of Bellatrix Lestrange, his face shielded by shadow, but Harry knew what his intention was. He grabbed Neville's arm and pulled him towards Ron.

"Our friend," he said as they reached Ron. "First our friends."

Two hours later, Harry and Ron were released from the Hospital Wing. Madame Pomfrey hadn't believed Harry when he'd sworn he wasn't hurt; "Are you sure? It's been a quite long time since your last visit." Ron had a few cracked ribs and a crushed jaw, all of which Madame Pomfrey healed quickly and efficiently. Seamus would be fine- the Curse had been particularly nasty, but not life threatening.

Bellatrix had been taken into Ministry custody before Neville managed to wreak vengeance. When Ron and Harry returned to the Common Room, he was staring dejectedly into the fire, the just-dawn sky casting a pink glow about the room.

"You alright, Ron?" Neville asked.

"Yeah. You?"

"Uh, no," he replied. Harry and Ron sat beside him on the couch. "Ron, was that the attack you meant? Seamus was telling us when we got him into the Hospital Wing that you thought there'd be an attack. Was that it?" Neville asked hopefully.

"No, Neville. That was recognizance," Ron said in a heavy voice. "The real thing is coming."