Harry Potter and the Last Year

Level 1.7: The Trouble With Malfoy

"Harry," Hermione said tentatively. "Do you really think you can do it? Can you kill your own grandfather?"

"He's not my real grandfather," said Harry. "Henry Potter was my real grandfather. Like you said. Voldemort and I are connected by blood, but then we were connected by blood before, weren't we? So this changes nothing."

Dumbledore examined Harry gravely. Clearly there was worry in his eyes, but there was also an undercurrent of respect.

"It all makes sense, now," said Harry. "I know you all think I should be upset, but this is the first time everything has made sense. And if Voldemort doesn't know. It gives us a weapon that he doesn't have. I think that's a good change."

"Indeed," said Dumbledore. "Does anyone else know about this?"

"Just the people in this room," said Harry. Persephone nodded.

"True or not I suggest keeping it that way," said Dumbledore, giving each of them a look as though placing a solemn trust.

"Mama wouldn't lie!"

"Persephone," Harry said in a reproving tone, choosing not to point out that either way his grandmother had led one of her children to believe a falsehood. He wrapped his hand around her upper arm, trying to be encouraging and keep her in check at the same time, like he imagined a big brother might. "I'm sorry to have disturbed you, Professor. I thought..."

"It's quite all right, Harry," said Dumbledore. "I am glad you did. You're welcome to do it again, though I suggest next time you observe the formalities of knocking and begin at a lower volume."

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir," said Harry with chagrin. "I think that's all. We'll be going now."

Dumbledore waved his hand, and the office door clicked open. Harry steered Persephone out, and Ron and Hermione followed him down the stairs. It was a slow decent. They were all carrying heavy thoughts.

"You okay there, Ron?" asked Harry.

Ron started as though waking. "Yeah--I don't understand why you're so chipper about it though."

"It's a lot to take in, Harry," added Hermione.

"I'm not planning to send him Christmas cards or anything," said Harry, giving them both annoyed looks. "This doesn't change anything. I've always been connected to Voldemort, but now I know how."

Persephone shuddered and hugged herself. "I can't believe they're the same person. After Mama told me, I looked up Tom Riddle in the old school records. I got to like him in a strange way. He explained all the bits of James that I never understood."

Ron made a choked noise. "You have to be worst judge of character in history!"

Persephone whirled to look at him and flushed pink. "I never said he was admirable! He must have been a terrible person to do what he did to Mama! I just didn't see what good it was going to do to hate him!"

"Well, maybe if you'd--"

"Ron!" Harry cut in warningly. "You have my full permission to continue hating Voldemort but don't take it out on Persephone. She didn't know."

"Sorry," Ron said stiffly.

"Do you hate him?" asked Persephone.

"I think I'm past hating him now," said Harry. "He's a disease. He has to be cut out so that the rest of us can live. I think I'm starting to understand the prophecy."

"What prophecy?"

Harry looked at his aunt, trying to decide how to best explain. "Hang on a minute." Ron and Hermione pressed themselves against the walls of the staircase as Harry pushed past them to hurry back up to Dumbledore's office. He pounded on the door, and it opened for him.

The wizened old wizard raised his eyebrows. "That was a bit sooner than I expected."

Harry stopped to catch his breath. "Headmaster, could I borrow your Pensieve?"

****************

It took a little while to convince Dumbledore to loan him the Pensieve and a little longer to learn how to use it and take is back down to the Room of Requirement. Harry remembered all the basics of the prophecy, but he wanted to hear it again, word for word. He wanted Ron, Hermione, and Persephone to hear it too. He trusted her enough now.

All Harry had of the prophecy was a memory of Dumbledore's memory, but he saw no reason why that would not be enough to share the exact wording with the others.

Once they had settle around the Pensieve in the Room of Requirement, Harry put his wand to his temple. Pulling the memory from his head was a bizarre experience. It was like a string being tugged out of his brain, and his head felt a little lighter once it had detached. He dropped the silvery substance into the Pensieve. Watching Professor Trelawny rise from the contents without the memory in his head was like seeing it for the first time. Harry supposed that was part of the point. He listened with fresh ears as well, but he watched his friends' faces rather than Trelawny's. He knew what she looked like. He wanted to see how they would react.

"THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES....BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES....AND THE DARK LORD WILL MARK HIM AS HIS EQUAL, BUT HE WILL HAVE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT....AND EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HAND OF THE OTHER FOR NEITHER CAN LIVE WHILE THE OTHER SURVIVES....THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD WILL BE BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES...."₁

They were all listening intently, faces showing only that they were letting the surreal moment settle in their minds. But Harry wanted reactions. "So what do you think?"

"Um...not to get technical, Harry," said Persephone in soft voice. "But what does it mean by neither can live if the other survives. I mean you're both alive now, aren't you?"

"Well, yeah," said Harry. "I think it means...well, Dumbledore said it means one of us will have to kill the other." Ron shifted uncomfortably. Harry felt the muscles in his face twitch. He trusted Dumbledore to know what he was talking about, but the phrasing seemed a bit strange to him as well.

"Maybe something hasn't happened yet," Hermione said. "I mean he sort of made you into the one who could defeat him. Because he passed certain powers to you when he tried to kill you the first time...which didn't work because of your mother's sacrifice. And he couldn't touch you because of love. Which could be the power he knows not, but your mother's sacrifice didn't happen until after the prophecy was given, so it could be that not all of it is in place yet. That something will happen in the future that creates a condition where only one of you can survive."

"How are you supposed to use love to kill him?" asked Persephone.

"For some reason I don't think I'm supposed to hug him to death," said Harry.

"Probably not," agreed Persephone. "But I mean if love is the power he knows not..."

"Maybe it isn't," said Ron. "I mean it could be, but maybe there's something else Harry has that he's not aware of yet. Like with the Parseltongue."

Hermione knitted her brow. "It's possible. Do you think it's safe for me to copy down? So we can refer to it when we don't have the Pensieve."

"As long as you don't spread it around," said Harry. "Not knowing the last of the Prophecy kept Voldemort from trying to kill me last year. I'd rather keep the little advantages we have over him for now."

Hermione nodded somberly. Persephone looked a bit anxious, and Harry put his hand over hers to reassure her. She gave him a small, grateful smile.

****************

They called the D.A. back the next evening to finish the story. Ginny even agreed to reschedule Quidditch practice. It was still a little difficult talking about the graveyard. To get through it Harry focused on the sequence of events rather than how he felt about them. "He took a bone from his fathers grave...unknowingly given, the flesh of the servant," said Harry. "That's what he called it anyway. Wormtail, Peter Pettigrew, cut off his own hand to add the cauldron...willing given."

A few cries of disgust issued from Harry's audience. Hannah Abbott looked like she was trying hard not to be sick. Harry expected a similar reaction from Persephone, who had actually known Pettigrew, but it was not disgust lining her features.

"And some of my blood, the blood of the enemy...forcibly taken."

It was not concern or sympathy either. Her brow was knitted with concentration. "Flesh, blood, and bone...That sounds really familiar."

"Familiar?" Ron gaped and eyed Persephone distrustfully. "That Oliver chap's not allowed to send you anymore dark arts books."

"It's not from a dark arts book," Persephone explained. "I think it was the title of a novel. Oh, what was the author's name? He was popular about a hundred years or so ago. He wrote a lot about ancient spells and magical theory."

"I know who you're talking about," Anthony Goldstein spoke up from the other side of the room. "Amplexus Zeno wasn't it?"

"That's it!" Persephone said happily.

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "Didn't he write fiction?"

"The stories were fiction," said Anthony. "But he was theorist first. He's not taken very seriously though. Some of his ideas were pretty extreme. He thought all Muggles were latently magical." Harry had a vision of Aunt Petunia attacking a stubborn kitchen spot with a wand and had to struggle to keep a straight face.

"I read only three of his books, and it was years ago," said Persephone. "But Flesh, Blood, and Bone was one of them. There was a resurrection spell like that. I think it was Egyptian and something...well...I don't quite remember the details. But if it's the same spell, I think you were supposed to die, Harry."

"I'm sure that was the plan," said Harry. "I'm really bad about following directions."

A few people laughed. "No," Persephone yipped. "I mean the death of the enemy was a finishing part of the spell! You lived, you got away, and that means the magic isn't set."

Harry's mind started clicking things into place. "Persephone, can you get a copy of that book?"

"I don't know," said Persephone. "My copy's long gone. Blaise might have one though. He's always reading books like that. I think he's a big fan of Zeno."

Harry remembered what Dumbledore had said about Blaise Zabini being well worth the trouble of getting to know. "Persephone, I want you to go get Blaise. Bring him into the D.A. Maybe Tom Riddle was a fan of Zeno as well." Persephone nodded but did not move. "Now," said Harry.

"Oh!" Persephone yelped and ran out of the room.

Harry continued on with the story for the others. Luna, Ginny, and Neville brought in their own additions to the battle in the Department of Mysteries. Last year's events were still a bit confusing for Harry, but he explained them as best he could. He had finished with the story and was letting the students go, when Persephone returned with a bemused looking Blaise.

"You wanted me for something?" asked the Slytherin boy.

Harry explained again.

"Yeah, I have Zeno's entire collection," Blaise said. "Left a few of them at home, so I may have to send off for them. But I remember the book you're talking about. Is that really how You-Know-Who came back?"

"Voldemort," Harry corrected. "And yes, that's how he came back."

"Well, if it works like it did in the book, you really did screw him up," said Blaise. "The enemy needs to be alive when the blood is added to the potion, but he's supposed to be killed afterwards. What about the servant?"

"He's dead," said Harry. "Killed last year."

Blaise wrinkled his nose. "That's out of sequence too. I'm not sure exactly what it will do to the magic. But without the death of the enemy, the enchantments holding his body together will only last three years. At least that's what I remember from the book. Zeno could have altered it a bit to suit the plot." He gave Harry an apologetic smile.

"Would you be willing to research it?" asked Harry.

"Sure," said Blaise. "Zeno wrote a few theory books as well with bibliographies. Might lead us to the book he got the spell from in the first place."

"I want to help," said Persephone. "I don't mind doing research."

Harry nodded. "No offense, Blaise, but I'd like to put a small team on this. Keep it small though. It's important, but it's also important that Voldemort doesn't get wind of what we know. I want to understand this better than he does."

Blaise showed no sign of offense. He and Persephone attacked their research with a diligence that Harry found a little surprising. There was scarcely an afternoon in the next few weeks that they could not be found in the room of requirement with a couple of Ravenclaws and sometimes Hermione as well.

Persephone's dedication he could ascribe to familial loyalty. Harry was the last relative she had left. Blaise, who Harry had largely ignored through his Hogwarts career, was more of a mystery. At length Harry asked him about it.

"Well, first off," said Blaise. "I find the whole thing extremely intriguing. Not everyday I get to apply my love of literature to defeating the mortal enemy of the wizarding world. Besides, I blame Voldemort for the death of my mother, and my resulting incompetence in communicating with the female gender." Blaise gave Harry a dark smile.

"He killed your mother too," Harry said softly.

Blaise nodded. "It was a long time ago, but the scars never really heal do they?"

"No, I suppose not," said Harry.

****************

Harry returned to the Room of Requirement the next day. He had just settled in to ask how the progress was coming, when Hermione set a heavy book down on the table with a satisfied thud. "That looks oddly familiar," said Harry as he glanced at the book.

"It should," said Hermione. "Hogwarts: A History."

"I thought we were boycotting that book," Ron said wryly.

"Well, I think certain omissions are ridiculous," Hermione said grandly. "But I thought it was worth rereading since we might be staging a battle here."

Harry gave her a stern look. "You weren't doing this while you were supposed to be sleeping were you?"

Hermione gave him a slightly annoyed look. "No, I was doing it while I should have been helping Blaise. But someone insisted on limiting the time I'm allowed to spend on important things."

"We all agreed that it's important that you sleep," Ron said helpfully. Blaise gave them all a bemused look.

Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously, so Harry swiftly turned the conversation back to the book. "What did you find?"

The distraction worked. Hermione's satisfied smile returned. "Just an encouraging little detail. One of the older enchantments in the castle amplifies the power of magical spells cast by those it recognizes as teachers. That's how Snape was able to stop an entire room of spells going off during our second year dueling club with a single Finite Incantatem. I always thought that was an extremely impressive bit of magic. And most of the teachers are very talented witches and wizards to begin with. It's possible that Voldemort's taken that into consideration, but he has been known to miss important details."

Harry smiled. "That is encouraging."

"Speaking of important details," Blaise interrupted. "I think we're now reasonably certain about the effects your surviving may have on the spell."

"Excellent. I'm all ears."

Blaise closed the book he had been looking over. "So, Potter, do you want the good news or the bad news?"

"I love good news," Harry said dryly.

"Good news is that it's possible that if you'll simply keep yourself alive for another month or so, Voldemort's body will begin to break down," Blaise told him.

"Excellent," Harry said. "The bad news?"

"Other than the fact it gives him more incentive to kill you? It's also possible that as his body threatens to break down, the connection of blood that you share may start draining you magically. It could leave you weak, may even kill you with time."

"Swell," Harry said. "Good news, Hermione, you were right."

"That's not funny, Harry." Hermione rubbed her temples.

"So do we just lock Harry up somewhere safe and hope Voldemort kicks it before he does?" asked Ron.

"No," Harry said pointedly. "I have to kill him, remember?"

"Not to deride Gryffindor bravery or anything," said Blaise. "But there might be some merit to Weasley's suggestion."

"I'll take that into consideration," Harry said dully. He saw no way to convince Blaise without revealing the prophecy, and he was not willing to do that yet.

Hermione was still messaging her temples. "I don't think locking Harry up is the answer. Do you think it's worth extra research?"

Blaise's mouth twitched apologetically. "I don't think so. We've pretty much exhausted all the material we have on the subject. I think I need a little time of to attend to...things I've been neglecting."

"Like studying," Hermione suggested. "I don't know how you've been keeping up with classes with all the time you've put in on this."

"Oh, I never study," Blaise said offhandedly.

"Never?" Hermione gawked. "You are planning to study for the N.E.W.T.s, aren't you?"

"I don't think so," said Blaise.

Hermione looked morally offended. "But those tests could determine entire your future!"

Blaise smirked. "Relax, Granger. I didn't study for the O.W.L.s, but I did well enough on those. 'O's and 'E's mostly. The important thing is to understand the principles behind everything. I pay attention in class, and I do all my reading and homework. I cram a bit ten minutes before the test, but I think anything beyond that is a bit superfluous. I figure I either know it or I don't."

"I like that philosophy," Ron said approvingly.

"The sorting hat didn't consider putting you in Ravenclaw," Harry warned him.

"True."

"Bet it considered Granger though," said Blaise, unaware that Harry was talking about him. "It's the big class mystery how you ended up in Gryffindor."

"We needed her," said Harry, and Hermione blushed happily.

****************

A few days later, Padma pulled Harry aside. "Harry, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I feel like I've tried everything, but I can't find a band for the dance. The Weird Sisters are on an American tour. All the major bands have left the country. The Worm Hearts said they'd fly back in to play, but they wanted a small fortune for it. Far more than we have in our dance budget. I found a small group called the Merrhymths that we could afford, but I had them send me a sample, and they're awful, Harry, just awful! I don't know what we're going to do."

"Wul--" Harry stopped, uncertain what to say. He had been counting on Padma to handle this, but it seemed a little unfair as she had been handling everything else. "It's still a month or two off."

Padma grimaced. "We have to find a band really soon, though. After what happened last year, the governors want time to do background checks on any performers coming into Hogwarts."

"I'll see what I can do," said Harry. "Maybe I can ask around next Hogsmeade weekend?"

"Thank you, Harry," Padma said, giving him a quick hug before hurrying off again.

Harry found Ron in the Gryffindor common room and collapsed into the chair next to him. "You don't know anything about finding bands to play at school dances, do you?"

"No," Ron said helpfully.

"I guess worse comes to worse we could just play records," said Harry.

"Yeah, I suppose," said Ron. "Bit tacky though."

Harry shot Ron an exasperated look. He saw Hermione come up and was about to ask her the same question when she demanded that Ron and Harry hand over their S.P.E.W. badges.

"Are you kicking us out?" asked Ron.

"Don't be silly," said Hermione. "I'm renaming the organization."

"About time," said Ron.

It took Harry a little while to find his badge. It had been shoved away in one of the far corners of his trunk. He surrendered it to Hermione and did not think much more about it until Charms on Monday.

Harry had just sat down when Ron grabbed his arm. "Am I hallucinating or is Malfoy wearing a spew badge?"

"He'd never," Harry chuckled before looking up. Malfoy did indeed have a shiny, S.P.E.W. shaped badge affixed right under his prefect badge. "That can't be..." Harry squinted, attempting to read the letters. He was distracted by Malfoy handing Hermione a bucket. Hermione looked as shocked as Harry felt. Malfoy kept his expression casual as though it was the most normal thing in the world for him to be chatting amicably with Hermione Granger in a crowded classroom.

Harry could not hear what they were saying, but Hermione's hand flew over her mouth. She turned away from Malfoy and set the bucket on the table, before she sank into the seat next to Harry. "What's going on?" Harry asked.

Hermione looked at him as though unsure herself. Her hand was still clamped over her mouth as though she was trying not to laugh or be sick. It was hard to tell.

"What's that?" asked Ron, indicating the bucket.

"Um, those are the new badges," said Hermione, taking her hand away from her mouth. She reached into the bucket and laid out a badge for each of them.

The letters were no longer S.P.E.W. "What does S.E.E. stand for?" Harry asked.

"The Society for Elvin Empowerment," Hermione explained, still looking a bit strained.

"Why did Malfoy have them?" Ron asked.

Hermione shrugged helplessly. "He said he'd change them over for me."

"And you let him?" Harry eyed the badge suspiciously.

"I was busy," said Hermione. She reached into the bucket and pulled out a small cloth bag. "Besides he came up with--"

"What's that?" asked Ron. He had not picked up his badge either.

"Sickles, for badges," said Hermione. "He said he sold fifteen." Hermione tipped her chin to indicate the far side of the classroom where Crabbe and Goyle were interrogating a cocky looking Malfoy. "He even got Crabbe and Goyle to wear them."

"Probably paid them," Ron grumbled. "Bet he just stuck thirty sickles in a bag and passed out the badges."

Harry was still confused. "But why would he do that? Hermione?"

Hermione did not answer. She had her lips pressed tight.

"You didn't put the Imperius curse on Malfoy did you?" asked Ron.

"Good morning," Professor Flitwick said brightly. "Today we are going to--" He was interrupted by a loud peel of laughter from Hermione.

"Sorry, Professor," she apologized quickly and turned pink.

"Quite all right, Ms. Granger," Flitwick said amiably. "A little laughter never hurt anyone."

It was hard not to laugh over the course of the next week as it became obvious that Hermione was holding something over Malfoy's head. He was brightly supportive of the house-elf organization to anyone who asked, giving a long rehearsed sales pitch that reminded Harry of those late night infomercial hosts on Muggle television. As the week faded off, so did Draco's brightness. Justin Finch-Fletchley figured out that Draco was obligated to give the full pitch whenever asked, so he made it a point to do so two or three times through out the day. Harry wondered why Ron resisted. Hermione found the whole thing hysterical. She frequently had to turn her face away while Draco spoke because she did not want to be seen as laughing at the S.E.E.

Ron insisted that he and Harry wear their badges so as not to be out done by Malfoy. Malfoy however stopped wearing his badge after a week was up. He looked like he wanted to say something rude when Justin expressed disappointment but restrained himself.

"Come on, Hermione," Ron urged. "Tell us what you had on him."

Hermione insisted she did not have anything on Malfoy, and no amount of niggling could pry a different answer from her. She did admit that she had discussed the subject with him during their tutoring sessions with Persephone.

Ron scowled. "What else did you discuss?"

"Homework?" Hermione said in a that-much-should-be-obvious tone. "Speaking of which, you two should start studying for your N.E.W.T.s. I really want us to use the Easter holidays effectively."

"We're expecting an attack from Voldemort, and you're worried about tests?"

"I don't know about you, Ron, but I was planning to survive," Hermione retorted. "And our N.E.W.T. scores will determine what sort of jobs we're able to get in the future. Harry wants to be an Auror which means he needs an 'E' in every class."

"I'm not going to be an Auror," Ron said grumpily.

"Neither am I, but you still want options, don't you?"

To a large part they submitted to Hermione's study schedules, because Harry did want to be an Auror. More than that, he liked the idea of living past the end of the term. He wished his prophecy had been a bit more optimistic. Maybe THE ONE WHO WILL CERTAINLY, WITHOUT-A-DOUBT DESTROY THE DARK LORD. That sounded better.

The twins sent Ron an owl with another invitation to meet for lunch during the next Hogsmeade weekend.

"I don't know if I'll be able to make it," said Hermione. "I'm supposed to meet someone around that time."

"Who?" Ron asked curiously.

"Malfoy. He said he wanted to buy me a drink."

Harry choked on his toast. "Hermione, what happened to all that healthy paranoia you had last term?"

"He's not going to poison me at the Three Broomsticks, Harry," Hermione said patiently.

"Why does he want to buy you a drink in the first place?" asked Ron.

Hermione shrugged. "I suppose he wants to talk."

"About what?"

"He didn't say, but I still think it's an opportunity we can't pass up," said Hermione. "Maybe he's ready to tell us what happened this summer."

"He could tell Harry that," Ron objected. "Why do you have to go off with him?"

"Maybe he feels more comfortable with me."

"But you're Muggle-born."

"So?"

"Well, I don't have a problem with it, but he has issues."

"Ron, he's been a perfect gentleman during our tutoring sessions. Maybe he's starting to grow up a bit."

Harry's toast was not agreeing with his stomach any more than it had his throat. "Um, Hermione, this hurts my head, but what if Malfoy doesn't want to talk. This isn't a date, is it?"

Hermione gave a hollow laugh. "Don't be silly. It's just drinks at the Three Broomsticks. Everyone goes there."

Harry wondered if Hermione had not been over thinking things again and missed the obvious. She was a girl after all and not a bad looking one. Even Malfoy could not have missed that much. Malfoy had certainly been looking at her enough to notice. Harry caught him at it in Potions and again in Transfiguration.

He tried not to thinking about it too much and distracted himself with Life of the Auror, while Hermione was in Arithmancy. Unfortunately Chapter Six: Learning Who to Trust was not easing his mind. "You don't think Malfoy could actually be interested in Hermione, do you?" Harry asked Ron.

Ron looked up from his Transfiguration text. "No. I know your aunt's all in his camp, Harry, but we both know Malfoy's scum. He hates Muggle-borns. He was practically bred for it."

"You do have to admit he's been a little different this year," said Harry.

Ron sniffed. "You've seen the kind of act he can put on for teachers. No reason he couldn't turn it on Persephone and Hermione if he wanted something from them."

Harry found this oddly comforting and disconcerting all at once. "The question is what does he want?"

"Dunno," said Ron. "But it can't be good." He reached into his bag and pull out a quill and parchment.

"Hermione's smart," Harry said as much to himself as Ron. "She'll see through him."

"She better," said Ron, who began scratching out a letter. "If Malfoy puts a hand on her, I'll kill him."

"What are you writing?" asked Harry.

"Reply to Fred and George. I'm telling them to meet us at the Three Broomsticks. If Hermione's thinks we're going to leave her alone with Malfoy, she's mental."

"Good idea," said Harry.

Hermione thought they were both mental and said as much as they walked to the village that Saturday.

"We're not going to interfere with your date," Harry said, trying to make light of things. "We're just back up in case Malfoy tries something."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but a small smile played on her lips, which made Harry think she was not too angry with them. "One, I can take care of myself. Two, this not a date. And three, Malfoy's not going to try anything somewhere that public."

"Bet he tries to get you to go somewhere else with him," Ron muttered.

"Well, then he'll be disappointed," said Hermione. "Honestly, you two."

Harry stuck his hands in his pockets. "Do you honestly think you can get information out of him?"

Hermione shrugged. "I'm going to try. Why?"

"See if you can find out who and where he rescued Persephone from," said Harry. "I bet you ten to one, he's the one she made her promise to."

"I'll see what I can do," Hermione said soberly.

Malfoy was already waiting in a booth when they entered the Three Broomsticks but so were the twins. Fred and George waved them enthusiastically over to where they were sitting. Ron directed Hermione's attention to them, and the three of them walked to the far side of the room, passing by Malfoy on one side and a table with the other seventh year Slytherins on the other. Harry tried not to glance too long at Blaise and Millicent as he passed. Blaise was crammed in between the blond Slytherin and Indigo Stump whose hair was dark again. Millicent had her large hand laced with Goyle's larger one, and Harry remembered Persephone saying something about them being the sweetest couple.

He and Ron took seats across from the twins, while Hermione remained standing at the end of the table. "Lo, Hermione," Fred said. "Would you like to have a seat?"

"No, I can't stay. I'm meeting someone." Hermione smiled. "But I have another minute or two. How's the shop going?"

"Excellent," said Fred. "We're thinking about opening a Hogsmeade branch."

"Brilliant."

"What's Malfoy doing on his lonesome?" asked George. "Other Slytherins kick him out?"

"I think he's waiting for someone," said Hermione. "It was good seeing you two, maybe we can talk more later. Have a good lunch." She waved a quick goodbye and walked over to Malfoy's table.

"Ooohkaay," Fred said slowly.

"I think this demands a further explanation," said George.

"Hermione's trying to convert Malfoy," Ron said gruffly.

The twins wrinkled their noses in disgust.

"It's not a date," Harry said flatly.

"Does he know that?" asked George. "Looks like he put on a nice shirt."

Draco was smiling nervously at Hermione. The sight made Harry queasy. Ron looked like he might be able to drill a hole through Malfoy with his glare. It was hard to see Hermione's face from their angle, but she turned her head and smiled at them.

"Forget lunch," said Fred. "I think I've lost my appetite."

Draco's smile did not last for long though. Whatever he and Hermione were discussing, it was not going well for him.

Rosmerta brought them four butterbeers. They thanked her and watched her place the largest glass Harry had ever seen outside of Hagrid's hut in front of Hermione and a water glass in front of Malfoy. George laughed. "She's making him pay, isn't she? Go, Hermione."

"Don't encourage her," Ron muttered, though it was unlikely that Hermione could hear them anymore than they could hear her and Malfoy.

"So how are things with Angelina?" Harry asked.

"Good," said George, still transfixed on Draco and Hermione as though he had never seen anything more horrible or fascinating. "We set the wedding date for this summer so you lot can come. She's been driving me nuts with preparations."

"Liar," said Fred. "He's driving her nuts with them." George did not argue.

A loud peel of laughter issued from the Slytherin table. Harry took a swig from his butterbeer. He wished he could hear what they were saying. Hermione was hardly touching her drink. Some part of him knew that she was perfectly capable of handling Malfoy on her own. They had classes together that Harry and Ron did not share, and she had managed to survive those. Still it seemed unchivalrous to let the lady face the dragon alone.

Hermione raised her hand to wipe her eye, and Ron twitched. "If he makes her cry..."

As though he had sensed Ron's threat, Malfoy's hand shot out to cover Hermione's. Ron jerked and gripped the table as though he might rise. Harry did the same, not entirely sure if he was going to stop Ron from breaking Draco's legs or help him with it. Malfoy wisely withdrew his hand, so Ron and Harry stayed put. Harry noticed the twins had clenched hands as well and felt a little better about his reaction. Malfoy glanced at them. He must have realized that, if he messed with Hermione, he would have to mess with all of them.

The Slytherins had gone quiet. Harry was sure they did not approve of Malfoy making moves on Hermione anymore than the Gryffindors did. Realizing that he was having the same reaction as the Slytherins made Harry feel a little dirty. Hermione laughed, and Harry decided that he might do well to stop watching other people have conversation.

He tore his eyes off Malfoy and Hermione and looked at the twins. "So you're thinking about opening a shop in Hogsmeade?"

"Yeah," said George, taking the hint and pulling his eyes away as well. "That or negotiate something with Zonko's. We owe them a lot, would hate to put them out of business."

"So how are you lot doing? The N.E.W.T. jitters hit yet?"

"Not as bad as I thought they might," said Harry. He stole another glance and caught Malfoy's eye. Harry narrowed his eyes a bit, wishing Malfoy would cut through the game already. Draco looked away.

"How's the Head Boy thing working out?"

"Not too bad," said Harry. "I still haven't the slightest clue what I'm doing. We've been preparing for the possibility of an attack on the school...just being paranoid. Everyone thinks I'm dating my aunt, and we can't find a band for the Leaving Dance."

"Yeah, Lupin told us about that," said Fred. "Apparently they used to know each other."

George tapped his butterbeer bottle against Harry's. "I may have a solution to one of your problems. Tonks is in a band, and they'll play for next to nothing. Actually considering it's for you, they might play for nothing."

"Tonks has a band?"

"Yeah, it's sort of a weekend thing she does."

"Are they any good?" asked Harry.

"They're not bad," said Fred. "And that way, we can be sure there'll be no Death Eaters trying to pose as entertainment. At least, not without a qualified Auror there to take them on."

Harry considered it. "Thanks, I'll talk it over with Padma and write Tonks tonight."

Ron was still glaring at Malfoy. Fred waved a hand in front of his face. "Cut it out," Ron muttered.

"Ron, why don't you take a break. They're not--"

"Who's that?" Ron asked sharply.

A man had approached Draco and Hermione's table. Harry took an instant dislike to him. The man did not stay long. Draco seemed to have grown a little paler. He said something to Hermione then got up from the table and headed out of the pub.

Hermione paused for a second, then hurried back over to the Gryffindor's table. "Harry, do you have your invisibility cloak?" she asked in a fast whisper. Harry nodded. "Let me borrow it." Harry looked at her curiously. "Hurry," Hermione snapped.

She looked serious, so Harry pulled the folded cloak out of his pocket and handed it to her. "What do you need it for?" asked Ron.

"I think that was a Death Eater," Hermione explained quickly. "He wants Malfoy to meet him in the Shrieking Shack. I'm going to follow him."

"Are you mental?" asked Ron.

"No, I'm going to be invisible," Hermione whispered shortly. "I want you all to follow me just in case. Make sure no one sees you."

Hermione gave them no time to argue so they got up from the table and followed her out the door. The Slytherins stirred curiously as they passed. Hermione walked quickly ahead of them and turned into an alley. They did not see her come out again, but the alley was empty when they passed it.

"What did I say?" Ron muttered as they made their way down the main street.

"Pansy's following us," said Harry. He had looked back and seen her emerge from the Three Broomsticks with Daphne Greengrass and the others.

"This way!" the twins directed. They led Ron and Harry through a twist of side streets and back allies that took them to the Shrieking Shack.

"I think we shook them," said George.

"As if there was a doubt. Do you see Hermione?"

"Don't ask stupid questions."

"Right. Harry, what did you have to give her the cloak for?"

"I-"

"Shh!"

They crept up to the gate that lead to the shack. "You two stay here," Harry told the twins. "Ron and I will try to get closer to the shack." They nodded grimly. "Do you see anyone at the windows?"

"No," Fred said. "Go on. Just be careful."

Harry drew his wand and motioned for Ron to take the right. They walked stealthily up to the shack using scraggly bushes and gnarled trees for cover. There was a loud thud and scraping from inside the shack. Harry and Ron hurried up to the house. Harry stepped up on the rickety porch and peered through a slat in the boarded up window. He could see the supposed Death Eater bent over something, but he heard Malfoy's voice.

"What do you mean when the time comes?" asked Malfoy. "When?"

"When it comes, it will be obvious," the gravelly voice answered. Ron stepped up on the other side of the porch, and it gave a loud creak. The Death Eater looked up, and Harry ducked his head down. "Did you hear that?"

Harry did not wait to hear Draco's answer. He motioned for Ron to get away, jumped off the porch and ran for a clump of bushes. A minute or so later the door to the shack flung open, and the man stalked out in what Harry was sure he thought was a casual walk. Harry watched him walk to the end of the path and Disapparate. Harry spotted Ron as he crept out from behind his own hiding spot.

"What do we do now?" Ron mouthed.

Harry wanted to rush into the shack and check on Hermione, but that might be a bad idea if there turned out to be more than one of Death Eater. "Wait," he mouthed back.

The wait seemed to last forever. Harry twisted his wand in his palm, anxious to do something besides watch the door. Ron got tired of it and made a quick dash across the path to Harry's side. "What's taking them so long?" he whispered.

"I dunno," Harry breathed. The door to the shack opened and closed again on its own. Harry hoped that meant Hermione was coming out in the invisibility cloak. Ron stayed crouched beside him.

"It's okay," Hermione's voice came from behind him. "You can put your wand away."

"Geez, Hermione." Ron placed a hand over his chest. "Give a guy a heart attack."

"What happened?" asked Harry, while Hermione shrugged off the invisibility cloak.

"The Death Eater gave Malfoy a warning, told him he better stand with them when the time came or he'd die with the rest of us."

"What did Malfoy say?"

"Well, what could he say? Made a bunch of noise about having some grand scheme and promised to kill us all. The important stuff was after the Death Eater left."

"I thought the kill us all bit was important," Ron said flatly.

"Not all of us, just me," Hermione amended. "It was the Death Eater's suggestion. He just...it doesn't matter. Malfoy knew I was in there. If he was going to kill me, he just missed his opportunity."

"Are you following the logic, Harry?"

Harry whacked Ron's shoulder to shut him up. "What did Malfoy say afterwards?"

"Everything," said Hermione. "I think this made him realize he couldn't stay neutral anymore. You were right, Harry. The Death Eaters were under Malfoy Manor. They killed that librarian who went missing last summer. Draco saw it."

"What about Persephone?" asked Harry. "Did he tell you who was holding her in that painting?" Hermione nodded. "Well?"

She made an apologetic face. "I promised not to tell." Harry stared at Hermione incredulously. "It has nothing to do with the war," Hermione continued. "What could you really do with the information anyway?"

"See that the person who did it was brought to justice." Harry thought that much was obvious.

"They'll get what's coming to them," Hermione said grimly. "Please, Harry, just trust me on this one. I'd tell you if it was really something you needed to know. Malfoy's ready to help, but he's afraid to join the D.A. until he figures out who's spying on him."

"Here he comes," Ron shushed them.

Harry watched Malfoy leave the shack and walk down the path. Draco was watching the ground as though his head was too heavy to hold up. Harry was disgusted by Malfoy's lack of professionalism. You were just asking to be attacked if you did not keep your head up and look about you. Lucky for Malfoy, no one was planning to attack him today. Ron raised his wand as though tempted but decided it was too easy.

"Where do you think you're going?" Fred asked, when Malfoy reached the gate, making the Slytherin jump.

Hermione hurried forward to rescue him from the twins. "I think we should head on back to the school." Fred gave Harry a questioning look, and Harry nodded. For what little he had done, he was feeling very drained.

"We're your escorts," the twins said and cracked their knuckles just to make Draco twitch. Ron smiled.

"Come on," said Hermione, grabbing Malfoy's sleeve and dragging him the first few steps towards the school. Fred and George glanced at Ron and Harry and wrinkled their noses again. "I was worried there for a minute. I thought he had heard me. I slipped in through the door right after Malfoy."

"Draco," Malfoy corrected her. His color was starting to come back, but he still looked paler than usual.

"As you like," Hermione laughed as though it hardly mattered. "Anyway, what's his name here held the door open long enough for me to slip inside. The Death Eater threw him around a bit." ("Sorry I missed it," muttered Ron.) "I was worried I was going to have to break cover, but I didn't want to interfere because he might say something important."

"Did he?" asked Fred.

"Well, sort of," Hermione hesitated. "He said something big was going to happen. Or something obvious at least. Said Draco was going to have to choose sides."

"Oh, and did you, Draco?" George asked with false cheeriness.

"Um, yeah," Draco said, still eyeing the twins nervously.

"Draco's on our side," Hermione said firmly.

Draco nodded and gave Harry a hopeful look. Harry could not bring himself to nod back just yet.

Hermione continued on somewhat giddy from her adventure. "His breath! I didn't even get that close to him. Ugh. How did you stand it?"

Draco gave a breathy laugh. "I don't think I breathed the whole time I was in there."

Hermione treated them to every detail from the Shrieking Shack, while Malfoy nodded at the appropriate places. "I don't think Draco should officially join the D.A. yet," said Hermione. "Least not until we figure out who this spy is. But Persephone can get any important information to him. What do you think, Harry?"

"That's fine," Harry said dully.

"I had a few ideas about the emergency plans," said Malfoy. "If you want to hear."

"Oh, definitely," the twins said.

The irritating thing about the ideas was that they were perfectly good and detailed. All focused around the Slytherin dungeon naturally, but that would be Malfoy's area of expertise. Harry knew it would be a good thing to bring Malfoy in if his intentions were genuine. Malfoy knew the Death Eaters as well or better than any student, and the number of Slytherins that Persephone had brought in was still slim compared to the other houses. From the sheer politics of it, Malfoy would be a great asset...if they could trust him.

The trouble was that Harry had the feeling they could trust him. Ron could say what he liked about Malfoy's acting ability, but Harry had always been able to tell when Draco was putting on a show for the teachers. If this was a show, Malfoy had improved his acting to a frightening level.

It was clear from his body language that he was more comfortable talking to Hermione, but then again, she was the one most willing to listen to him. Harry was simply glad there had not been anything flirty about Hermione's body language. Still, it was strange watching her get along with Malfoy. The twins were watching with equal bemusement.

They changed subjects to less secretive topics as they approached the school gates and the other students. Harry watched Malfoy put on his act as suddenly as someone flipping a light switch. He became cheerful. His nervous smile turned cocky. This was the Draco Harry was used to seeing from years past. Only this was how Malfoy had acted with the other Slytherins, not him, not Hermione, certainly not the Weasleys. Maybe Malfoy had always been acting.

They reached the gates, and the twins hung back with Harry and Ron, while Draco and Hermione submitted to searches by Filch and Madam Hooch.

"Okay, so clearly some one has polyjuiced themselves to take Malfoy's place," said George. "The question is why."

"I think it's more likely Hermione put the Imperius Curse on him," said Fred.

"Hey, that one was mine!" Ron protested, smiling a bit.

"You guys aren't helping."

"Sorry, Harry. What do you want us to tell the Order?"

"Tell them everything," said Harry. "In particular, give them a description of that guy from the shack. If you find a name, send it to me. I'm making a list."

"Better check it twice," said George. The twins ruffled Ron's hair and bid them farewell before Apparating away.

Ron and Harry submitted to searches, while Draco and Hermione waited on them. Draco was trying very hard to make Hermione laugh, but she just gave him a patient smile. The four of them walked up to the castle together.

Persephone came running up to them when they entered the castle. "Hello, Persephone," Harry called out. He wanted to grab her attention before Malfoy did.

Persephone stopped short, wringing her hands and looking otherwise very anxious. "Oh, hi, Harry. I need to talk to Hermione."

"What's wrong?" asked Hermione.

"It turned blue," Persephone said in small, distressed voice.

"Oh no," Hermione groaned. "All our hard work. It's wasted."

Persephone wrung her hands a bit tighter. "Um...not exactly."

Malfoy gave her a stern look. "Persephone, what did you do?"

"I panicked," Persephone whimpered. "Oh, you better come see."

Draco and Hermione exchanged worried glances and started to follow Persephone towards the dungeons. Harry and Ron started to follow too, but Hermione motioned for them to stay put. "I'll see you two later," she said pointedly and practically ran down the stairs.

"What just happened?" asked Harry.

"I think we lost her," said Ron.