Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Chapter 64 - A New Day Dawns

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The sky was a faint blue and the air hot against Harry's face as he lay down at the pool's edge dangling his left hand into the cool, clear water. He could feel the sun scorching his front; a bit painful, but he didn't care. He could stay like this for hours just watching her swim, chat about nothing, and smile about everything. Could there be a more beautiful creation on all the earth? Gabriella flashed him another smile then looked up above him, waving at someone. Lazily, Harry turned his head to see who it was. The sun flickered in his eyes forcing him to rise up on his right elbow and shield his vision with his left hand. Drops of water fell soothingly onto his burning face. It was Emma and Duncan. Harry sat up to say hello, when he noticed Emma holding a chain of thorns that was wrapped about Duncan's neck. She was pulling him along like a dog.

"Hey, mate!" Duncan said with a smile, oblivious to the thorns poking his neck and the blood dripping down his chest. "Bloody hot today, ain't it?" Emma, however, was most definitely not smiling; in fact, she looked furious. She came to the pool's edge and kicked Harry hard in the leg, and it snapped off, flying into the pool and sinking to the bottom.

"You ruined everything," Emma spat, and then narrowing her eyes on Gabriella she added, "Both of you! He was supposed to die by his own hand and you..." she pointed at Harry, "you bloody idiot, you had to interfere." She pulled Duncan to the side of the pool. "Well, I don't need him anymore!" she cried and threw him into the water; without making a sound, he sunk and disappeared to the depths with Harry's leg. Gabriella seemed not to notice, and when Harry turned to save Duncan, Emma grabbed him by the shoulder.

"Forget him, Harry. He's dead weight." Then Emma leaned down next to Harry, pointed at Gabriella, and whispered lustily in his ear, "Her father had me tied down to this place, but no longer; he's helping me now, and we both have our eyes set on you... Harry." These last words slipped delicately out of her mouth and she slid her finger down his red chest to his navel. It felt as if she were slipping the edge of a dagger down his front. "You have something I want," she said lingering long and low on Harry's waist. "Soon, with your help, my little Mudblood, I'll be rid of this Darbinyan retch and we can be together forever." She held out her hand, and there appeared a wand about eight inches made of ash. She was going to cast a spell at Gabriella who was still smiling at her from the pool as if nothing had happened, but something was stopping Emma, holding her back.

Out of Emma's own mouth came, "Put... it... away," only the voice wasn't hers, it was a male's, thick with a foreign accent -- Armenian Harry now knew. "You will not call to her." Emma's eyes flickered and a look of rage filled them. It was but a moment before the expression passed.

"Just a few more errands, Harry," she said, regaining control of her own voice again. "You'll see... we'll have each other, love." As the ringing of her words died away in Harry's ears, she faded into nothingness leaving only a rope of thorns upon the hot concrete deck of the pool.

"That was nice of him to stop by and say hello," said Gabriella placing a cool, wet hand on Harry's chest. The cold was penetrating, passing into him as if he'd been run through by Nick.

"Him?" Harry asked.

"Yes, it's about time you had a chance to meet. He's always said--"

"Harry! Harry, can you hear me? Harry!"

Harry watched as the pool swirled around like the flush of a toilet.

"It's too hot, don't you think?" asked Gabriella, completely unaware she was being sucked down into some hidden drain. "It's so much better here early in the morning. I love to watch the sun being born anew." The sun was fading to darkness, but Harry now felt its heat more than ever.

"He can't be dead! He can't be!"

"He's not dead Ms. Chang. Now, please, get to the hospital."

"I'm fine," answered Cho from the distance, in the dark.

"It's not you I'm concerned for, my dear."

The voice was Dumbledore's and it pulled Harry back into the present. Yells and screams, near and far, filled the air, and everyone was crying. Harry opened his eyes to find a very dusty, very tired Dumbledore kneeling at his side. A breath later, his mind began to focus and his eyes opened wider. Behind Dumbledore stood Cho Chang, a streak of blood running down the left side of her ash covered face; both her hands on her stomach. On the second breath, Cho Disapparated as Harry sat bolt upright, pain searing up the front of his body. He was badly burned, his clothes more charcoal than thread. His eyes were panicked, and though he wanted to scream out in agony, there was something far more overwhelming crawling into his mind.

"Greg!?" he cried. "Where's Greg?"

He remembered watching as the blast appeared to expand in slow motion out from the center of the boxcar before them -- the boxcar from which the green-eyed witch vanished. Glass and steel were flying outward in an ever increasing fireball. Harry and Hermione were both one step back from Goyle as all three cast a defensive shield. Goyle's spell filled the corridor and as the train in front shattered away his shield expanded to either side to join Harry's and Hermione's. But, as if being etched away by acid, the shields began to give way to the explosion now enveloping them. From afar, as Harry was told later, it looked like a large comet streaking down the tracks, their shield charms protecting everyone behind them. Finally, the fireball burned its way through, reached the tip of Goyle's wand, and his shield charm failed. He was knocked backwards by the explosion into Hermione and then Harry. As Harry felt the percussion of the blast, he watched as the fireball consumed Greg and then all was darkness.

Harry looked up into Dumbledore's grim face; the Headmaster's blue eyes bore a deep sadness. Looking down, Dumbledore simply shook his head.

"I'm so sorry, Harry."

The young wizard could feel his blood turn cold; his heart skipped.

"And... and Hermione?" he asked not wanting to know the answer.

"She's fine, Harry," whispered Dumbledore and the air filled Harry's lungs again. "Quite a remarkable young woman, really. Unfortunately, Mr. Boot required immediate medical attention and she departed with him; now it's your turn." Dumbledore suspended a small silver sphere in front of Harry.

"Wait!" Harry yelled. "I can't... the... the stone. It's in my bag, in my carriage."

"There is no carriage, Harry," said Dumbledore dryly. "Hence, there is no bag, and there is no stone."

Wincing again in pain, Harry turned to see the devastation scattered on the barren landscape. There was nothing but heaps of smoldering debris surrounded by squatting students, some worse off than others, but all alive. Thanks to the knowledge that something was about to happen, they all had their wands at the ready. "He has the stone," Harry whispered, dropping his head into the ashen earth. "They've won."

"Perhaps, Harry... perhaps it has been destroyed. Now, please take the orb; we'll talk later, but first we must tend to your burns." Harry looked down to see bone poking out through the bottom of his right pants-leg. His blackened jeans were soaked in blood, but the bleeding had stopped. Harry reached out with his right hand and was surprised to see it still clutching his wand. His shirt had been burned away and revealed the mark on his forearm. He cast Dumbledore a nervous glance.

"Later, Harry," he said calmly. "Now take the orb."

Harry touched it and felt the tug at his navel and the wind in his face. A swirl of colour later, he was on the cold hard floor of St. Mungo's, his leg pointing in an awkward direction. He looked up to find Mad-Eye standing over him, wand drawn and magical eye spinning in all directions.

"That's got to hurt, Potter," he said gruffly. "A few more breaks like that and you'll be on your way to being a real Auror for sure."

"Honestly, sir," said a Healer reproachfully to Mad-Eye and advancing on Harry from the other side. Harry looked up at her.

"You know," Harry said with a grimace, "padded floors wouldn't hurt."

She smiled. "You would know. Now, stay still." She whispered an incantation, and Harry began falling into a dreamless sleep as he listened to Mad-Eye go on about how in his day....

Harry's stay at the hospital was short, only a few days; Terry Boot was there a few more. He never was able to discover Cho's whereabouts; she was not with the rest of the other injured Hogwarts students. Harry was able to send post telling Gabriella what had happened, but her reaction to the loss of the stone was miniscule to her concern over his injury. She wanted to come and visit, but Harry was released and sent back to Hogwarts before she could make it. There would be no more late-night conversations with the mirrors again; his was in shards scattered with the debris along where once laid the tracks. Still, worry over the loss of the stone, and his sadness over not being able to see and speak with her during evening breaks was overshadowed by the loss of Greg Goyle. It was likely that none of them would be alive if Greg hadn't stood in front, unflinching, to protect them all. Those were the words Harry used at the memorial service held in the Great Hall at Hogwarts on Easter Sunday.

Many of Greg Goyle's family members were present, including his mother, but his father, wanted by the Ministry, was absent. The mood was glum as many in the Great Hall were well aware of the turn-around Greg Goyle had been making, but as Harry stood at the front of the hall, speaking for Gryffindor, his tone was bright, energetic, and full of hope.

"There are no words that can describe the goodness of a soul capable of seeing past a history of hatred. There are no lights that can outshine the brilliance of a mind that gives itself willingly for the betterment of another. There are no dreams than can compare to the wonders of a world where all join together to stand against the darkness. These are the gifts of Gregory Goyle. He gave them freely for all to see; his steps set the standard for all who tread that path, however dangerous. His memory will forever be the touchstone of the dreams the Founders once had for this school. It is now up to us to see that he did not die in vain. It is now our turn to take up his wand and carry it forward into a future free of enmity."

"Many months ago, the giants knocked down these walls. What they couldn't destroy were the walls that we have built ourselves -- house against house; friend against friend. I have seen a great many things in the last few years, but perhaps the greatest moment of them all was the day I was able to call Greg Goyle... friend. I only hope one day, when Greg and I meet again, we will look back on this day with fondness, for it marks a new beginning... a shining example of hope for the Wizarding world and all mankind."

As Harry made to his seat, a few claps began from about the students. They were followed by more and more until the entire hall was filled with applause and a rhythmic chant of "Goy-le! Goy-le! Goy-le!" Harry sat down wondering what Greg's father would think. Dumbledore took to his feet smiling and holding out his hands to quiet the gathering.

"Kind words, Mr. Potter. Thank you." He looked at a parchment through his half-moon spectacles. "Our last student speaker will be Mr. Draco Malfoy from Slytherin, a close friend of Greg's since they first arrived at Hogwarts. Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco Malfoy stood and when he took the podium he spoke of the purity of the Goyle line, reciting some ten generations of Goyles going back to Galimor Goyle who defended Britain against a Nordic invasion of half-blood mongrels. He ended on a Quidditch note.

"He was the best bloody Beater Hogwarts has ever seen and the team will be hard pressed to find a proper replacement." There was a moment of silence and then the Slytherin Quidditch team erupted in rousing applause and whistles. Hermione's eyebrows furled as she watched Malfoy leave the podium.

"I don't think he has a caring bone in his body," she said.

"Oh, he cares alright," said Ron. "He cares about himself."

There were more speeches, more prayers, and since Greg's body had been vaporized in the explosion a small plaque was placed on the Wall of Memories next to the plaque remembering Cedric Diggory. Harry couldn't help but think of how Emma had died, and explained away his dream of her after the explosion as a mixing of the two events.

"Harry," Hermione said softly after the ceremony had ended, "you look tired. Let's get you back to the common room." The trio made their way back together among a number of black robed Gryffindors.

"Could there be a group of more self-centered, glory seekers?" asked Ron, referring to all the speeches from Slytherin House. "After the third pure-blood ancestor, I was ready to puke!" Ron's fists were curling at the end of his sleeves. He had not spoken much of his short friendship with Greg, but Harry noted that he had been hurt when Professor McGonagall selected Harry, not Ron, to provide Gryffindor's eulogy.

"And Crabbe," said Ron, now fuming, "they were supposed to be friends, and all he did was pick his nose through the whole ceremony!" He went to hit the wall with the back of his hand and hit a portrait of a flock of geese instead. The squawking followed them all the way to the portrait of the Fat Lady.

When they entered the common room, groups of Gryffindors were gathered around an announcement that had been posted. Ginny, still dressed in black, stepped back from the wall, her hand over her mouth in shock.

"Ginny," Hermione asked in concern, "what is it?"

"Beauxbatons was attacked. They destroyed part of the school and Hogwarts will be getting transfer students to help lighten their class load. They arrive tomorrow."

"We just got this place back together," complained Ron. "Why can't they just--"

"What else?" questioned Hermione, noting that the look on Ginny's face was too severe to be caused by a transfer of students, whatever the cause.

"Dumbledore's announced the inter-house transfers," she said looking like she was ready to be sick.

"No!" cried Ron. "They're not sending you to Slytherin are they?"

Ginny shook her head no, and then without saying a word she pointed a trembling finger back in Ron's face.

"What?" he asked confused.

"Oh, no," Hermione whispered.

"WHAT?" he yelled, suddenly enlightened. He pushed people out of the way as he dashed to read the announcement on the wall. "No!" he cried out again after reading his name next to the word Slytherin. "Why can't Thomas go, or Potter?"

"Your family is as pure and old as any in Hogwarts, Ron," Hermione answered in a calming voice. "It only makes sense that--"

"It doesn't make sense!" Ron yelled back. "I-I won't do it! That's all there is to it." He pulled his black cloak back up over his shoulders. "I'm telling Dumbledore right now!" He spun on his heels and started for the door when the portrait opened and in walked Professor McGonagall. She noted the collection of students around the announcement on the wall.

"Ah, good," she said smartly, "you've seen the announcement."

"Good?" said Ron, writhing in anger. "What's good about it?"

"I thought you might be disappointed Mr. Weasley, but--"

"Disappointed? DISAPPOINTED? I won't do it. Throw me out now because--"

"That will do, Mr. Weasley!" Her voice was raised and her face stern, and the look was enough to quiet any wizard down, let alone a sixth year Hogwarts student. "I expect better manners from the students in my house and you are in my house until tomorrow night. Ten points from Gryffindor." There was a collective groan.

"But--" Ron began.

"Come with me, Mr. Weasley." Again the words were tight and firm. Ron glanced at Harry, who was only thankful it wasn't him, as the redhead stormed out through the portrait.

"They'll kill him," Harry whispered.

"I'm sure he'll take a few down first," Dean added.

"You guys don't get it," interjected Seamus. "That's what it's all about... teh learn that we're not goin' teh kill each other fer bein' different."

"That's easy for you to say, Finnigan," shot Barbara McNulty. "Ravenclaw isn't filled with Death Eaters."

"Yeah," added another student. "The snakes are bloody murderers is what they are."

"Killers, every one of them!"

"Self-centered--"

"STOP IT!" cried a voice from the corner by the fireplace. It was Parvati's. With the rapidity of events, few, if any, remembered that Parvati Patil and Greg Goyle had been dating. Seeing her reddened face and watering eyes Harry remembered that she was planning on visiting Greg for the holiday, but promised instead to help Professor Trelawney redecorate her classroom. She would have certainly been on the train at Greg's side had it been otherwise.

"Greg Goyle was a Slytherin!" said Parvati defiantly. "You, Barbara... you gave him our house crest! Was it all a joke?" The room was dead silent as a wave of guilt enveloped all present. Even Harry, whose words had been so eloquent at the eulogy was taken aback. Parvati pulled her wand. "The next person who says one bad thing about Slytherin is going to answer to me! Do you understand? ME! I'll hex you into the stone-age, and you'll crawl on your belly like a snake!" She stood there, tears streaming down her face with her wand stretched out, trembling in front of them all.

Both Lavender and Hermione went over, put their arms around her, and began to cry. Harry and Neville, and soon everyone surrounded Parvati apologizing and offering whatever support they could. In the midst of this circle of compassion and caring, Ron burst back in through the portrait ready to explode. His mouth opened wide ready to scream when a wave of emotion passed over his face. His mind was picking up the thoughts filling the room and his shoulders slumped in resignation.

Finally, everyone began to disperse. "It'll get better, Parvati," said Hermione as brightly as she could. "Tomorrow, a new day is born, and with it comes new hope."

"Thanks, Hermione," said Parvati wiping her eyes and trying to muster a smile.

Ron walked up to Harry and tapped him on the shoulder. "Mate, we need to talk." But Harry wasn't listening. He stood there frozen like a statue, his eyes fixed forward playing Hermione's words over in his mind.

"Tomorrow, a new day is born," he whispered to the air. For a moment, he paused, and then said louder and with a bit of a tremor, "I love to watch the sun being born anew." He turned to face Ron and held him by the shoulders. "That's it! 'From birth of light to death infernal.'" Ron stood completely clueless. "Birth of light -- morning. I have to go to the falls in the morning. That's when they took me!"

"Who?" asked Ron trying to gather a quickly unraveling thread. "What falls?"

Harry suddenly realized he was speaking in front of the entire common room, although there was only one person paying any real attention... the bushy haired girl with brown eyes, but she pretended not to be listening.

"Er, nothing, Ron," said Harry. "Just some music lyrics to this new song I heard."

"Yeah? Who?"

Harry looked about. Hermione was wandering with no real purpose.

"Boy, I'm hungry," answered Harry. "You hungry? All this excitement... I need something to eat."

"Yeah," said Ron as if hypnotized by the mere suggestion, "food sounds good. I need to get my mind off of... of--"

"Yeah," Harry jumped in, "let's eat. Hermione, you want to eat?"

"What?" she asked, looking up as if surprised by the question. "Eat? Sure."

Once out of their black robes, the three quickly departed and as they strolled down the corridor Harry asked Ron who he thought Gryffindor should put in as Keeper... "You know, with you going to Slytherin and all." The question sunk Ron for the rest of the evening. That night, he didn't eat much of anything, nor did he sleep well during his last night in the Gryffindor tower, mixing his nightmares and occasionally crying out "Spiders!", or "Snakes!"

The next morning it was announced that the first day of classes would be canceled pending the transfer of the new students and to afford the inter-house exchanges to take place. Most everyone was ecstatic, except for Ron and a handful of other apprehensive transfer students leaving their houses. Harry spent the day seemingly distracted and Ron assumed it was because he'd soon be leaving for Slytherin. Somehow, even though Ron was wrong, it made him feel better. As evening came, Ron packed his bags before they were called to the second sorting and what Ron called his "last supper".

"You know, mate," said Ron as he packed his things in his trunk, "it won't be so bad." He tried to keep his tone light, but the words carried no conviction. "I mean, Jim Chang's moving over to be in Slytherin this term; they accepted him, right?" There was no answer. "And... and it's just a couple months and all, RIGHT?" Ron raised his voice noticing Harry's lack of attention.

"Huh?" Harry asked. "Oh... yeah... couple months." Harry was lying on his bed looking up at the picture of Gabriella. Her face bore an expression of worry and anxiety. Something was wrong, Harry thought, but he had no mirror with which to contact her. Ron tossed the last pair of socks in his trunk and closed the lid.

"Yeah, a couple months." He swallowed. "You know, you could try Sloper at Keeper," he said trying to focus on something he cared about and the two let that conversation carry them down to the Great Hall. It ended when Professor Dumbledore stood at the head table and addressed the students.

"Tonight, we welcome within these walls old friends for some and for others new acquaintances that are sure to grow new friendships. Please open your hearts and your houses as I know you can. Professor?" Dumbledore turned to Professor McGonagall standing to the side of the hall. She walked across with the Sorting Hat and sat it on a lone chair in the front. It furled and sang:

Four houses dare to stand as one

against a dreaded foe.

Two schools must join as four have done,

and soon we all will know.

Come here to me the students new

and find where you will land

As Hogwarts waits to welcome you,

enjoy this moment grand!

"Not much, that," Seamus said behind his hand to Ron.

"Well, it hasn't had the whole year, has it?" answered Ron in the Sorting Hat's defense. "And besides, we just found out yesterday they were coming. He probably had to scrap the one he was working on."

"That's right," added Hermione, and the two began to clap and cheer, and almost for the fun of it the students in the Great Hall burst out with applause. They were thirsty for something to be happy about and the song was as good as anything. Finally, Professor McGonagall unrolled a rather short parchment and started to read.

"We begin with students from Beauxbatons Academy," she said. Harry wondered what that meant since they were all from Beauxbatons. Hermione seemed to have the same question.

"You don't think there are some students from Durmstrang do you?" she asked. Harry just shrugged his shoulders as Professor McGonagall called some twenty names.

"Alocette, Devon."

A tall, thin, pale boy looking about Harry's age walked from the side room, his nose so far up in the air that he nearly tripped over the chair. Adjusting his robes, he sat beneath the hat.

"Ridiculous," he whispered in a thick French accent as he closed his eyes.

"Oh, this is gonna be great," said Dennis Creevey as he rolled his eyes.

"Pure unity," Jim Chang whispered back.

Colin, sitting next to him, stood and took a picture as the Sorting Hat called out, "Ravenclaw!"

The applause from Ravenclaw was polite, but no more. Hardly a typical welcome given to a first year Hogwarts student.

Professor McGonagall worked her way down the list and as she did so the acceptance of the room was more pronounced and the greetings much warmer. When a large round boy named Peter Walreux with glasses much the same as Harry's was sorted to Gryffindor, the table stood and cheered.

"What year?" Neville asked as he shook the boy's hand.

"Sixième," he answered shyly.

"Me too!" Neville said with a grin, and offered him a place at the Gryffindor table.

"Guess he gets your bed," Harry whispered to Ron.

"He's huge! I'll need a new one when I come back next year," he paused glancing over at the Slytherin table, "if I live that long." It was strange; of the nearly two-dozen students sorted, only two had been sorted into Slytherin. It was clear that the Slytherin table which had spent much of the day insulting the Beauxbatons transfer students now found themselves feeling somewhat slighted.

Harry was looking at Ron trying to show concern for his redheaded friend when Professor McGonagall cleared her throat.

"And now, from Al Bsahri," she said coolly. There were a few murmurs in the room.

"They closed Al Bsahri last year," someone whispered.

"Some sort of plague."

"Dozens died, and I heard that--"

Professor McGonagall deliberately cleared her throat, raised her voice, and added an edge that told the others to quiet down. "Darbinyan, Gabriella."

Harry felt the air leave his lungs as Gabriella walked out in front of everyone in the Great Hall. Someone in the back of the hall let out a whistle and Harry began to stand to see who it was when Hermione took his arm. He hunched back down and watched as Professor McGonagall placed the hat on Gabriella's head.

"She has to be a Gryffindor; I know it!" he whispered loudly. "She has to!"

"You wish, Potter," jeered Ernie Macmillan under his breath.

Harry had half a mind to hex Ernie on the spot, when the Sorting Hat called out.

"Slytherin!"

The Slytherin table, which was beginning to sulk, broke out with the evening's loudest round of cheers discharging into the air; Harry's heart sank. Gabriella walked over to the table scanning the room, but was unable to find Harry before she sat. Through the seated students, Harry's eyes fell directly on Malfoy who was smiling malevolently back in his direction. Professor Dumbledore stood.

"Well, the best way to get to know each other is over food. Let's eat!" A small banquet of food filled the tables with a distinct slant toward French and Mediterranean. Ron looked at a stuffed olive leaf, sniffed it, then popped it in his mouth, nodding in approval and grabbing another.

"Well, at least I'll have someone to commiserate with," he mumbled as he chewed. "I'll keep an eye on her, mate. If I'm not dead." He grabbed some rolls with melted butter.

Finally, Harry could bear it no longer; he stood and their eyes met. He swung his leg over the bench with the full intention of walking to the Slytherin table when Hermione grabbed the back of his robes.

"Give her a minute to breathe, Harry," she whispered. "If you go over there now, they'll--" He pulled away ignoring her, ignoring everybody, and strode over next to Gabriella. She stood and they embraced to the hoots and howls of everyone within the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall looked crosswise at the pair over her spectacles, but Professor Dumbledore smiled broadly.

"You didn't tell me," breathed Harry. "When... when did you decide?" She held her hand to his face.

"Minister Weasley paid a visit to our house the other day. Even though Mama's well, I didn't want to leave her alone. He offered to have someone stay with her for awhile, and Mama said it was time to get a proper education. So..." she shrugged looking at the sea of green around her, "here I am." Harry hugged her again looking at the same sea of green.

"There are a lot of good people in Slytherin," he said trying as best he could to suppress any feelings to the contrary. "It's a good house. I'll... I'll let you get to know them and we can talk later, okay?"

Gabriella nodded, kissing his cheek and sat back down. Harry cast a quick glance at Malfoy who had deliberately ignored his presence at the table the whole time he was there. Finally, he walked back to the Gryffindor table and finished eating.

"Did anybody ask about me?" Ron asked. "You know... me going to Slytherin tonight and all."

"Erm, sure Ron," Harry answered. "Malfoy was torn between hexing you into some vegetable thing, or keeping you whole to play Keeper." Ron just glared at Harry.

"My life's on the line and all you can do is tell jokes." He grabbed another roll and stuffed it in his mouth.

When dinner ended Harry tried to meet with Gabriella, but found himself caught behind a large group of Hufflepuffs. It was all he could do not to shove them all aside and rush up to meet her. Just when he thought he'd burst, there was a sudden commotion from up ahead. Someone cried out, there was a cheer, screams, and then Adrian Pucey of Slytherin came flying over the heads of the Hufflepuffs landing at Harry's feet. His nose had seriously moved to a new part of his face and was bleeding badly. Pucey looked up at Harry and, to the Gryffindor's surprise, smiled.

"Dat's one hell ub a woban you got der, Podder," said Pucey with a grin that revealed two missing teeth in front. A moment later, Tracey Davis was helping him to his feet.

"Just had to get cute, didn't you Adrian?" she scolded. "Don't you know what they taught at Al Bsahri? Now look at you! If you can't help me with my Potions homework tonight, I'm going to kill you."

Harry looked back at the opening that had split the Hufflepuffs to either side of the corridor. There stood Slytherin Daphne Greengrass, her arm consolingly around Gabriella's shoulder. Daphne was shaking her head and waved her hand in the air as if to say not to worry about it. Harry's girlfriend glared back at Adrian as Tracey escorted him to the hospital wing and a shiver ran down his spine. Gabriella's jaw was set and her eyes on fire. What would it take, he wondered, for her to kill again?