Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Chapter 31 - Opportunity for Disaster

~~~***~~~

Harry stood at a large mahogany table pondering the purpose of the strange silver instrument spinning before him. He'd walked in to find out what was going on. It was a thirst for information he shared with all his classmates, and part of him felt uncomfortable for using his relationship with Professor Dumbledore to such ends. Everyone had seen Professor Dumbledore at breakfast, and had fully assumed he'd make some sort of speech, but he didn't. He ate quietly, spoke a few words with Professor McGonagall and left the Great Hall. After Charms, Harry came straight to his office hoping to find him, hoping to finally learn what his two best friends were doing behind his back. When Professor Dumbledore welcomed him in, it was with a half-hearted smile and a gloomy face. Clearly, something was concerning the Headmaster, and the expression through Harry off his stride. Now, looking at his own reflection in the silver disk spinning on the table, Harry was at a loss for how to begin.

"Have you seen the golden instruments at Grimmauld Place?" Harry asked hesitantly. "I've never seen anything quite like them."

"Yes," said Professor Dumbledore, nodding from behind his desk. "They are quite unique." He held his hands together at his chin. "Should you go on to become an Auror, you will learn about such things. As he delved further into the Dark Arts, Sirius's grandfather had those especially made. So much of his life was wasted in search of immortality. And so it is with Tom," Dumbledore shook his head. There was a short pause as Harry shuffled his feet. "And yet, I don't believe you came here to discuss the toys of wizards, or the resurrection of the dead. Did you, Harry?" The sixteen year old turned and adjusted his glasses as he looked at Professor Dumbledore.

"Where's Tonks?" he asked flatly. "She wasn't at breakfast this morning." Professor Dumbledore bit at his upper lip and shook his head.

"I don't know, Harry," he replied weakly with a small tinge of apprehension in his voice. "She and Ms. Granger..."

"Hermione?" Harry rudely interrupted. Dumbledore nodded, and Harry's face reddened.

"Professor Tonks and Ms. Granger were working on a method to track an apparation."

"But that's impossible," Harry replied. His emotions were torn between anger for being left out, and curiosity for what had been done. "Isn't it? I mean, once a wizard apparates, they're gone."

"Amazingly," Professor Dumbledore replied, "Ms. Granger developed the calculation in her Arithmancy class." The old wizard grinned. "Truly astounding, really. Professor Tonks practiced the technique with another witch in Hogsmeade, and with good success." The white-haired wizard's face again became grim. "Your tip was helpful, Harry. Professor Tonks and I had nearly a dozen wizards and witches watching King's Cross Station as well as other locations across the country. I was at the Ministry when word came of the explosion. We were able to stop two other attacks including one at the under channel crossing to France. Two of Voldemort's followers were apprehended at King's Cross Station. One of the attackers apparated, and this time Nymphadora followed. That's the last we've heard of her." Professor Dumbledore stood and walked over to the spinning silver instrument. He held out his wand and what appeared to be a field of stars suddenly surrounded the spinning silver disk.

"Each of these," Professor Dumbledore began pointing at one of the stars, "is a member of the Order." He smiled looking down at Harry. "We've grown somewhat since last year. Only a few of us know of our new foreign recruits." And then his face turned grim again. "I should see all our members unless there is some magical cloak at play or..." his voice trailed off.

"Or what, Professor?" Harry asked weakly.

"It will not show me the dead, Harry," Professor Dumbledore replied. He raised his wand and the field of stars vanished. "My fear is that she was successful, but with no one there to assist...." The creases on Professor Dumbledore's face deepened as he sat back down in his chair. The leather seemed to gasp under his weight. He looked more tired than Harry had ever seen him. For the first time Harry felt that, perhaps, they were losing the war. Harry walked over to Professor Dumbledore's desk. He knew his selfish desire to learn about Ron and Hermione was trivial compared to the lives being lost at the hands of Voldemort. He thought to ask about his scar, about Dobby, about his growing moodiness, about the crimson stone, but his mind couldn't let go of the adventures that his two best friends were having, adventures from which he was excluded. He had to know.

"Professor...," Harry began, "yesterday... Ron and Hermione were gone. Do you know where?" Professor Dumbledore's eyes seemed to lighten at the question as he looked back at Harry over the top of his half-moon spectacles. It was an expression Harry had not anticipated.

"Yes," he said simply. At the word, Harry stepped backward and looked for something, anything other than Professor Dumbledore to hold his gaze. He fixed first on Fawkes. The phoenix must have just flamed, for he was covered in white down and only a few inches tall.

"W-Well...," Harry stammered. "I thought you might. I mean... them working for the Order and all. Probably an important..."

"Who's working for the Order?" Dumbledore asked derailing Harry's attempt at cogent speech. Harry still couldn't look Professor Dumbledore in the eye, and instead shuffled over to the painting of Dilys Derwent who winked and smiled, but said nothing.

"Erm... you know... Ron and Hermione. I'm sure it was important and all. They're..."

"Harry," Dumbledore interrupted again, "I needn't remind you, of all people, that there is an age restriction on being a member of the Order of the Phoenix." There was a slight smile on the elderly wizard's face. "Neither Ron or Hermione are of age. Nor, I might add, are you." Professor Dumbledore stood again and walked over to Harry turning him so that they could see each other face-to-face.

"Harry, I know you want to be out there fighting Dementors and Death Eaters. But, the time, your time, is not at hand. We both know you're capable. We both know you're brave. I have no doubt that you would perform as well, if not better, than many of the Aurors in the Ministry. And yet, your greatest strength is not what you can do with your wand, but what you can do here at Hogwarts with this." Dumbledore held his hand over Harry's chest. "Your heart. Such magic is deep and impenetrable, and should you succeed, Voldemort will surely fail." He walked over to Fawkes and conjured a small piece of fish for the bird.

"Professor McGonagall told me how you performed in the Great Hall in my absence. A bit theatrical, perhaps," Professor Dumbledore grinned, "but admirable. You have offered the students at Hogwarts choices they never before dreamed possible. And I hear nearly a dozen Slytherins came to your meeting on Sunday."

Somehow thoughts of the battles his friends were facing faded from his mind, and Harry was thoroughly embarrassed for coming to Professor Dumbledore's office. He nodded, feeling both proud for the wizard's praise and sheepish at the same time. Professor Dumbledore patted the side of Harry's head, and noticed the silver lightning-bolt.

"I think you have some choices to make yourself, Harry," he said, his voice light but firm. "And I don't think they involve Voldemort." Harry reached up and stroked the silver.

"No," he said. "No sir, they don't." Harry started to the door. "It's almost lunch, I best be going." He walked through the door holding his right forearm with his left hand. Surely he should ask. He stopped and looked back at Professor Dumbledore, but the words failed him in favor of his primary goal. "Pardon me Professor, but if Ron and Hermione are not working for the Order, what did you have them doing?" At these words, Professor Dumbledore smiled and put his arm around Harry.

"I have often found, Harry, that the quickest way to find out what someone is doing or thinking is to ask them directly. It is not always successful, but quite often the eyes reveal the truth. Nevertheless, I believe they've been telling you for some time, what you would not hear."

As Harry left Professor Dumbledore's office, he could again feel his emotions splashing and splattering around in different directions. The thought that Tonks might be dead was foremost in his mind as he made his way to the Great Hall for lunch. When he entered, he saw Ron and Hermione seated next to Neville, Lavender and Parvati. When he looked toward the Ravenclaw table, he saw Luna reading a newspaper. There was space between Neville and Goyle who towered over the other Gryffindors. Harry walked to the empty space and sat down.

Goyle was busy putting fork to mouth, but Neville seemed to have suddenly lost his appetite. A plate with a corn-beef sandwich, potato salad and chips appeared before Harry. A glass of milk followed. Everyone, but Goyle, was looking at him apprehensively as he took a sip from the glass and set it back down on the table. He grabbed the sandwich and started to take a bite when Hermione broke the silence.

"Well," she said, her voice a bit shaky, "what did he say?" Harry looked at Hermione and placed the sandwich back down on his plate. He turned to Neville at his side.

"Neville," he said calmly, "I owe you an apology." He put his hand on Neville's shoulder. "If I ever act like that again, you can turn me into a toad, okay?" Harry smiled and Neville smiled back.

"I would if I knew how," said Neville regaining his appetite.

"Maybe I can show you at the next DA meeting," Harry said. "Greg, do you think you could give us a hand?" Everyone started to laugh.

"Very funny, Potter," said Goyle, smiling back with a drip of sauce running down the corner of his full mouth. "Very funny." He swallowed and wiped his chin, but then his face became stern. "I hope you haven't forgotten the first match is this weekend. We are practicing tonight, aren't we?"

"Katie's reserved the pitch," Ron jumped in. "She says to eat dinner quick and be ready to go." Throughout, Hermione's eyes had been fixed on Harry since her first question.

"Harry," she started again, "what did he say?"

Thoughts of Tonks being dead and Voldemort winning the war flooded into Harry's mind. He couldn't bring himself to tell them Tonks might be dead. His stomach lurched, and then he thought of his own choice between black or brown eyes. He suddenly had lost his appetite and pushed his plate forward.

"Finished," he whispered and the plate vanished. The long pause had them all worried as they waited for Harry to answer. Finally, he looked at Hermione in the eyes.

"He said I should ask you myself," Harry said leaning in across the table.

"Ask me what?" she asked.

"Where were you and Ron yesterday?" Harry asked watching her eyes as they darted to look at Ron, and back to Harry. There was a collective rustle as everyone who heard the question repositioned in their seats. Harry looked at them all. Even Parvati and Padma seemed anxious to hear the answer.

"I just don't think now's a good time, Harry," Hermione whispered. He looked intently into her eyes, looking for an answer. Again, she looked to Ron. "I swear I... we'll..."

"If you don't tell him," Ron said with a strong clear voice, "I will." Ron looked from Hermione and then to Harry. "No more lies, right, Harry?" Hermione was clearly nervous and uncomfortable.

"Not here," she said. "Not like this."

"Oh, come on Hermione," Parvati chimed in. "It's not like we all don't already know anyhow." Hermione began to redden.

"Really, girl," Lavender added, "it's the worst kept secret at Hogwarts."

Hermione looked like a trapped rabbit. Everyone, including Ron, was waiting for her to say what they all, all but Harry, already knew. She reached across the table and took Harry's hand.

"Promise me, Harry," she began furling her brow and looking quite nervous, "that you won't be mad."

"I promise," Harry said dismissively. "There's nothing you can say that I haven't thought of already."

"Well, this summer, Ron and I..."

"I knew it!" Harry jumped in. "Vacation! Hah! What did he have you do? Come on... what was it? Spy?" Hermione, who had barely enough fortitude to start in the first place, was suddenly at a loss.

"Spy?" she asked.

"Okay," Harry replied, "maybe not spy, but something surely. Did it start in Germany?"

"Well," Hermione said looking back at Ron and taking his hand. "I think it's been going on for some time really. It was just this summer when things got serious."

"Of course," Harry said taking to his feet and pacing as if to assemble all the parts of the puzzle. The only problem was that he had the wrong pieces. "Things only really got serious when the Ministry saw You-Know-Who, right? I just don't understand why it was just you two, and not me. I suppose Ginny and Neville are in on it too?"

"Ginny's known since..." Ron said smiling at Hermione, "since before we did I think." Harry grinned putting both hands on the table and leaning in. Somehow, the fact that they were finally clearing the air made Harry's heart lighter. It didn't really matter that they had gone on to work against Voldemort, even if it wasn't for the Order. They didn't really need to now that Ron's dad was leading the effort against Voldemort at the Ministry.

"Ginny's always been brilliant," Harry whispered. "You know, you could have just told me. I might have been a bit jealous at first, but I would have gotten over it."

"I don't think you quite understand, Harry," Hermione said uneasily. "Look, you've enough to be going on about without worrying about Ron and me. If I'd have known you were this upset..."

"But I'm not upset, Hermione. Honestly, I'm not," Harry shot back too quickly. "True, my mind's been on... other things since I left Little Whinging." His voice trailed off, and he looked over at Cho who was laughing at Anthony Goldstein. Anthony had made some sort of Quidditch doll in red robes and was showing it getting whacked by a Bludger from behind. Suddenly, inexplicably, the blood in Harry's veins caught fire. He'd lost all thread of what he'd been talking about and all his attention turned to Anthony and Cho. Cho wiped tears of laughter from her face and held Anthony's arm.

"Excuse me," he whispered through gritted teeth.

"But, Harry!" Hermione called out, exasperated.

Harry ignored her, and found himself walking over to the Ravenclaw table, the urge to throttle Anthony strong, when out of nowhere a stabbing pain ran down his arm. Joe Blunt, a Beater on the Ravenclaw team, had his wand out pointing it at Harry under his robes. To Harry it all seemed to happen in slow motion. Joe whispered something, and a yellow light began to leave the tip of his wand.

"Loooook Ouuuuuut!" Hermione yelled from behind him. Harry spun, reaching for his own wand.

"Protego!" Harry yelled, wand drawn, just as the beam of light was upon him. The light bounced off an invisible shield in front of Harry and was deflected directly into Anthony's back.

Anthony's face turned white, and immediately he began to vomit all over the front of Cho's robes. There was general screaming at the Ravenclaw table, and soon some of the first years began to throw-up as well. Joe stood up and began to slink away when Cho levitated from the table and ensnarled him in ropes.

"Joe Blunt!" she screamed. "Look at me!" She was about to cast another spell when Professor McGonagall called out.

"Everyone! Return to your seats!" she yelled. A few heads turned to see Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, and the somehow more intimidating Hagrid standing at the head table. The room fell silent except for Anthony who kept retching on the floor. Professor McGonagall turned to the nearest student at the Gryffindor table, James Chang.

"James," she said, "escort Mr. Goldstein to the hospital wing. Tell Madam Pomfrey what has happened." James took to his feet. "Wait," Professor McGonagall called. She conjured up a large purple bucket and handed it to him. "Have him carry this along the way. Mr. Filch will be angry enough when he sees what's happened here." James grabbed the bucket and helped Anthony up. When the two left the Great Hall, Professor McGonagall addressed the remaining students silencing the Slytherin table, which was beside itself with laughter.

"The rest of you," she called out, "get cleaned up and ready for class. There will be no excuses for tardiness!" She then turned to Professor Flitwick. "Filius, I believe Mr. Blunt belongs to Ravenclaw?" Professor Flitwick rolled his eyes and nodded his head.

"Yes, yes," he squeaked. "And they tell me my house has all the smart ones! Taking on Harry Potter...." Professor Flitwick just shook his head and proceeded to the Ravenclaw table. "Are you insane, boy!" he chided, as he unbound Blunt and took him by the scruff of the neck with some sort of clenching charm out of the Great Hall. Cho, still wet, went over to the Gryffindor table.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," she said earnestly. "I heard some rumblings from a few of the team members that they needed to get an edge for this weekend's match, but I'd never dreamt they'd turn a wand on you."

"Listen...Cho," Harry began.

"Hold that thought, Harry," she said. "I've got to get out of these clothes and ready before class." And she was off before Harry could say another word.

On the way to Defense Against the Dark Arts, Harry found himself walking with Ron and Hermione. His preference to shun Ron was overcome by his keen desire to learn about what missions the two had been performing. They had just left the Great Hall when Hermione began on a different track.

"You know, Harry, we haven't discussed your," she paused, "your gift for quite some time. I've been reading books all over on wandless magic. In some ways it's really rare, and in some ways it isn't."

"I don't understand," Harry said as they climbed the stairs. "Everyone who sees it always raises an eyebrow."

"Well, Harry," she replied in a way Harry knew meant she'd never finish before they made it to class, "it's all a question of magnitude. I mean... wizards can all do little things to change the world around them. Usually it's a form of telekinesis or conjuration. Some enchantments can be done to objects without a wand, and certainly hexes can be placed on people as long as eye contact is maintained." They rounded the first corridor to Professor Tonks' classroom. "The point is you're doing it on a much greater scale. It's as if you've tapped into to some huge energy source and are projecting it at will. Normally, that's what wands are used for. In your case, a wand just makes your spells that much more powerful." They were nearly to the classroom. "I don't know Harry, it might have something to do with," she lowered her voice to a whisper, "your arm. It might be some kind of controlling hex to make you stronger so that you can do someone else's bidding. Or maybe you've discovered a new form of energy. But nothing's really changed in your life since last year, has it? I know you were getting along better with the Dursley's, but that just doesn't seem powerful enough to me." They were at the door when Hermione looked to Harry for some kind of answer.

"Fascinating, Hermione," Harry said. "Thank you." With that he entered the class. They weren't late, but they weren't early either. Hermione stepped forward to sit with Ron. Standing in the front of the room with crossed arms and wearing a scowl, was Professor Snape. Harry made to sit with Malfoy as he always did in Tonks' class, but Malfoy slid the open chair further under the table and looked the other way. Harry took the cue and headed to the empty seat where Anthony usually sat next to Parvati. Evidently Joe's spell was still doing its business. Harry smiled.

"Well, if it isn't the king and queen of the castle," Professor Snape sneered and a few of the Slytherins laughed. "I'm so glad you both could take time out of your busy schedule to join us." Parvati put her hand on Harry's lap and patted it to calm him, but Harry was calm. He had, for the most part, learned to control his emotions when it came to Severus Snape.

"Forgive us, sir," Harry said apologetically. The words caught Snape off guard.

"Is Professor Tonks ill, sir?" asked Parvati in a concerned voice. The glib look on Snape's face vanished. For the first time in Harry's memory, Professor Snape looked concerned about something other than his own neck.

"Professor Tonks," Snape replied regaining his composure, "will return as soon as she is able." He strode over to a large desk at the front of the room and pulled open their textbook. So far this year, Tonks had only referred to it a few times. Nearly all their work had been practical. "Ms. Granger, how far have you progressed through your text?"

"Well, Professor, we haven't really used the text all that much."

"I see," Snape answered, a thin smile returning to his face. "Then who, other than Ms. Granger, can tell me the three primary defensive spells?" Only a few students raised their hands, nearly all of them Ravenclaws. Professor Snape, however, called on the one student who seemed the least interested. "Mr. Malfoy, perhaps you would share your insights?" Malfoy seemed only to slouch lower in his chair.

"Protego," he answered with a bored voice. "Protego, and I suppose Expelliarmus, would be another."

"Very good," Snape said. "And the last?" Malfoy looked uncomfortable, almost irritated for being asked the question.

"Áreddotu, Professor," he said finally.

"Excellent!" Snape praised. "Ten points for Slytherin." Neville raised his hand. "Yes, Mr. Longbottom?"

"I'm sorry, Professor, but Áreddotu? What's that?" Professor Snape shook his head putting his fingers to his brow.

"As I suspected," Professor Snape sneered. "The use of constant substitutions throughout the years has been harming your education."

"It's a reflection spell, Neville," Hermione said. "If the caster..."

"I don't recall anyone asking your opinion, Ms. Granger," Professor Snape chided smiling. "Five points from Gryffindor." Hermione's face hardened to stone, and fire lit her eyes, but she said nothing. Professor Snape then turned back to Neville. "It is indeed a reflection spell, Mr. Longbottom. It returns the spell back to the sender. It's advantageous if you know the spell you're about to be hit with. It is poorly used without such knowledge."

"Can it be used against the Unforgivable..."

"No it can not," Snape answered briskly. "For such curses there is very little that can be done without a strong mind, and so you have very little hope, I'm afraid." Snape walked back to the front of the class. "For the killing curse there is no known way to stop it."

"I'm not so sure of that Professor." A young woman's voice shot from the back of the classroom. All heads turned to see who it was, including Harry's. There, at the back of the room, was Tonks. Harry's heart skipped, others gasped. There were two large scratches across the right side of her face and, as she stepped forward, she walked with a distinctive limp. She stared at Snape without blinking. "That's a bit overblown, don't you think?" she asked with an intellectual tone. Though concerned about her injuries, Harry had to smile. Professor Snape on the other hand was completely speechless. He simply gawked at her as she continued to limp to the front of the class.

"I mean," she continued, "as long as you're not directly hit by the curse, you can survive. And there are a number of ways to avoid being hit by the green light, wouldn't you say?"

"Of course," Professor Snape offered quietly, "that might be true, yes. But the point is..."

"The point is," Tonks interrupted, "that I am deeply indebted to you for watching my class in my absence. I believe I can handle the rest of the afternoon's lesson. Thank you." Snape's brow furled and his hand came to his chin.

"Do you think that wise, Professor?" he asked. "Wouldn't you prefer to..."

"I prefer teaching my class, Professor Snape. Again, thank you for your assistance. Good day." She walked over to the text on the desk, closed its pages, and handed it to Professor Snape. "I believe this is yours?" Hesitantly, Professor Snape took the book from her hand, and then he leaned over and whispered something in her ear that Harry could not hear. Tonks nodded with a slight smile that Snape did not see. Quickly, he strode out the room and shut the door behind him. The class erupted into cheers, and Tonks was bombarded by a dozen questions in the same instant. Tonks raised her hand, but only to about chest level. She was clearly in pain. The room silenced.

"Áreddotu is a very advanced spell," she said sitting on the chair at her desk. "To use it wisely, it is true one must have knowledge of the spell being cast. Further, if the wrong wrist movement is applied, the caster might simply amplify the attacker's curse onto his or her self." She proceeded to show the class the correct movement and incantation. After some time of working without wands she clapped her hands. "Break out into pairs," she said, "and try to use the spell against a mood lightening charm. At least we can all leave the class happy today." As the class started to split out into pairs, Harry noticed Tonks starting to swoon a bit and then sit back in her chair. He began to walk over to her, but she pointed her wand at him.

"Mr. Potter," she said sternly, "you have work to do. Questions can come later." Harry hesitated, but continued toward her. "Go on, Harry," she whispered in all the commotion. "I'm fine." Finally, Harry turned to find a partner only to discover Malfoy, still slouching in his chair, as the odd man out.

"Do you have any friends, Draco?" said Harry with a sigh, and lining up against the blonde. Giggles were already beginning to be heard around the room. Neville and Helen were in a particularly happy mood, although Harry hadn't seen them cast a spell yet. "He better keep her out of the dormitory, that's all I can say," he mumbled to himself.

"Sneaking girls from other houses in to Gryffindor?" Malfoy asked Harry as he looked at Neville. "Perhaps there's hope yet."

"You're hopeless, Draco, and if you tell a soul..."

"Shall we try something with a bit more... fire, than a mood lightening charm?" Malfoy drawled. The boredom had left his face, and was replaced with pure mischief. Harry looked over at Tonks whose eyes were fixed on the far side of the room. "Looking for mommy's permission, Potter? Maybe you aren't Slytherin material!" Harry drew his wand and moved to a relatively empty part of the classroom. He'd never attempted this spell, and a miss on the first time would mean scorched fingers. The only heartening aspect was that beads of perspiration were popping out on Malfoy's forehead. Clearly he was a bit nervous too.

"You first, then?" Harry asked. Malfoy pulled his wand. "And Draco, when this comes back into your face, you may want to try and deflect it here. He pointed his wand at an empty dustbin and filled it with water. No one paid any attention as Malfoy pointed his wand at Harry.

"Incendio!" he called out. A streak of fire shot toward Harry as he called out the new incantation.

"Áreddotu." he said quietly. The fire stopped in midair and started on its path back toward Malfoy. The call of the fire spell turned much of the class their way, including Tonks.

"Protego!" Malfoy yelled, and the fire deflected itself off him, but not back to Harry. Instead, it was headed straight for Neville who was standing some ten feet right of Harry. Quickly, Harry pointed his wand at the water and levitated the dustbin in front of Neville just in time for the fire to hit it, burst the dustbin, and spray warm water all over Neville. Malfoy burst out laughing as Neville's robes dripped to the floor.

"Enough!" Tonks yelled. "Ten points from both your houses. And you've just landed yourself in detention. See me after class, which is right now. Class dismissed!" The students began to walk out, as Hermione walked over to Neville and dried him instantly with a flick of her wand.

"I could have used that the first night we were here," Neville said.

"Neville, I don't want to think what the Professors would have done if anybody had lifted a wand that night," replied Hermione as she looked back at Harry. She nodded her head toward Tonks in a 'find out what happened' look.

Harry and Malfoy stood waiting for the last students to leave. Malfoy, twiddling with his wand, had a smirk on his face. Harry, to the contrary, was trying to remember why it seemed like such a good idea at the time to bounce fire around the room. Tonks limped over to the two of them. The scratches across her face had vanished.

"What a pair of self-centered showoffs!" Her words were intense, but not loud. "Following simple directions isn't good enough for the two of you. You're too above regular lessons?" Malfoy snickered, and in a flash Tonks had her wand in his face, which instantly lost what little colour it had. She tapped the side of Malfoy's face that didn't have a scar. "I can give you a matching pair if you like Mr. Malfoy. Although I dare say my artwork would not be as refined." Malfoy began to tremble, and he shook his head.

"Good," Tonks said with a satisfied grin. She limped back to her desk and slowly lowered herself into her chair. "I believe four detentions should do the trick. We'll begin tonight." Harry's jaw dropped instantly.

"That's detention every night this week, and the match against Ravenclaw's this Saturday!" Harry pleaded. "Can't we..."

"Tonight!" Tonks said sharply.

Whatever interest he had in Tonks' injuries left Harry's mind in a flash. He could feel a sense of rage building inside. Something was wrong, very wrong. Clearly she was possessed! He clenched his teeth and took a step towards Tonks, but Malfoy grabbed his shoulder.

"Come on, Potter," Malfoy said coolly. "Let's go." Harry looked at him as if he were crazy. "We'll see you tonight, Professor," Malfoy said politely with a smile.

As the two students walked down the corridor, it was Malfoy who was correcting Harry. "What's with you, Potter?" he asked. "You were about to go off on a Professor!" And then he grinned. "I should have let you do it. I wonder what your precious Dumbledore would say then."

"Well at least I'm not kissing up to my head of house!" Harry snapped back. "Don't tell me you actually read the book." Malfoy simply shrugged.

"You don't get it, do you?" he quipped. "Sure, I read the book. I was told to read it last night. Not the whole book, mind you, just the part on the three primary defensive spells."

"A set-up?" Harry asked.

"Like I said Potter," Malfoy drawled, "maybe you aren't Slytherin material." The two walked for a few moments.

"When I walked in, you pushed your chair in," Harry said. "Why? I sit next to you in..." Malfoy pulled Harry to the side of the corridor.

"Don't play so thick with me, Potter," he sneered. "I know you and Snape have hated each other since day one. And if you're so connected to You-Know-Who's thoughts, it's pretty obvious why. Snape's in with him and you know it," Malfoy hissed.

"How do you..." Harry began.

"My father was a Slytherin, Potter." Malfoy's eyes darted around ensuring they were alone. "He loved the power of being a pure-blood." Malfoy shook his head, his face held a look of disgust. "But that's not where true power comes from, Potter. It was his failure in understanding that fact that put him in Azkaban." Malfoy's eyes narrowed, and his expression grew cold. "Knowledge is power," he whispered. "Knowing where the pieces are set upon the board. Knowing their strengths, their loyalties." Again, Malfoy took Harry by the arm and pulled him further off the main corridor. "Together, we could assemble the whole board. Together, we would know all the pieces. Together, we would shape the outcome of this war to our own advantage."

Harry began to pull away, but Malfoy held him tight. "Do you think the Ministry gives a damn about your vision of togetherness, Potter? Do you think they care about how many Muggles die before this war is over? We can make a difference... Harry."

Harry began to answer, when he looked up to see Crabbe and Nott passing on their way to the Slytherin common room. Malfoy looked back over his shoulder.

"I swear you'll pay, Potter!" Malfoy yelled. "The only time I'm ever in detention is because of you. Think about what I've said!" Malfoy shoved Harry against the wall and walked over to Crabbe and Nott, both snickering at what they'd just seen.

Harry watched them disappear down the stairs. He found himself trembling, and he wasn't sure why. If he could discover Voldemort's whereabouts... if Malfoy knew... Harry could.... The possibilities were beginning to spread through his mind like a rapidly expanding cloud in the sky.

"Yes," Harry whispered to himself. "Yes, it just might work."