A Cord of Three Strands

A Cord of Three Strands

By Cindale

Chapter 5

"Closure"

I want to heal

I want to feel

What I thought was never real

I want to let go of the pain I've held so long

Erase all the pain 'til it's gone

"Somewhere I Belong", Linkin Park

After dinner Friday evening, Harry walked glumly down to the dungeons for his detention with Snape. He hadn't been alone with the Potions Master since the man had thrown him out of his last Occlumency lesson. As much as he hated to admit it, he was a bit nervous; Snape had been absolutely murderous on that occasion.

He knocked on the door with more enthusiasm than he felt, unwilling to show any sign of weakness. He entered when bidden and strode purposefully to the Potions Master, who was sitting behind his desk with his hands folded in front of him and his body held taut. Snape did not offer him a seat.

"Mr. Potter," he said in a frigid tone, "the headmaster has insisted that I continue your Occlumency lessons. But before I can do so, I must insist that you apologize for your flagrant invasion of my privacy last spring and that you be punished."

Harry tried desperately to fight down the anger that was building inside him as he realized Snape had made up an excuse to give him detention. He felt his face redden and his hands ball into fists, but he managed to nod his head curtly.

The Potion Master's glittering eyes stared at him for a moment, then he finally leaned forward and said, "Well, Potter? I believe you have something to say?"

Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly, willing his voice not to shake. "I apologize, sir. I shouldn't have invaded your privacy." He held his head high and showed no sign of repentance. There was no way he could feel remorse after what Snape had done, not only to him, but to Sirius.

"Very well," Snape answered, not dropping his gaze. Harry continued to stare at his black eyes, also unwilling to back down from the contest of wills. When Snape reached for the wand on his desk, Harry groped in his pocket for his, still refusing to break eye contact. "Let's see if you have been practicing this summer, shall we?"

At that, Harry closed his eyes and desperately tried to clear his mind of the burning anger. He only had time to take one deep breath before he heard the familiar spell. "Legilimens!"

Harry was surprised to find that he had actually achieved more control than he'd had last spring. As the pictures started flying unbidden through his mind, he forced himself to think about weeding the Dursley's garden. On the edge of his consciousness, he saw a picture of Sirius falling through the veil. He mentally pushed Snape back and tried to focus on washing the Dursley's dishes. A picture of Padma Patil struggled for dominance, and Harry fought harder, desperate that Snape not see that memory. The Potions Master pushed more forcefully, and the picture of Padma came into sharp focus. Harry shouted, "NO!" and felt his mind suddenly released.

He shook his head to clear it and opened his eyes to find himself sprawled on the floor and the professor leaning over him like a great black bat. He struggled to his feet as the fury began to build in his chest again.

"That was better, but of course you could not have gotten any worse than you were last spring," said the Potions Master. His voice was bitter, as if he was disappointed that Harry had improved. "You have obviously been practicing. However, there is still much room for improvement. You made it obvious that the two memories I probed had significant emotions attached to them. You must learn to detach any sentiment from your most private recollections. The Dark Lord will look for the memories which arouse the most emotion in you, because those are the ones which will reveal your weaknesses."

Because of his anger, it took Harry a few moments to process Snape's words. He stared at the professor as he realized what the man expected him to do. Harry shook his head slowly; he felt it would be easier to cut off his arm than to cut his emotions from his memories. How could memories be the same without emotions? Memories and emotions were all he had left of Sirius. Snape was asking the impossible. To give up his emotions would mean giving up a large part of his true self.

Snape turned and walked away from Harry, apparently ignoring his horrified expression. He returned lugging a bucket, which he set down roughly in front of Harry, causing the soapy water to slosh over the Gryffindor's trainers. His head snapped up as his anger rekindled and the Potions Master began to speak again.

"You will spend the remainder of the evening cleaning the floor of this classroom. You will use no magic, only soap and water. Is that clear?"

Harry nodded and tried not to show his relief that there would be no more Occlumency that night. As for the cleaning, his chores at the Dursleys had been much worse; he could do this. He rolled up his sleeves and knelt, trying not to think about the submissive posture he was being forced to take. He reached into the bucket for the sponge, feeling around when he didn't find it right away.

"Professor Snape, sir," he said, trying to sound acquiescent, "I need a sponge."

"No, you don't, Mr. Potter," Snape said. He smiled, causing chills to run down Harry's spine, pulled something out of his pocket, and offered it to Harry. It was a toothbrush. Harry felt his fury boiling up again as he snatched the toothbrush from Snape's hand. It would take him all night to clean the floor with something so small!

With a triumphant look in his eyes, the Potions Master resumed his seat behind his desk and settled back to watch.

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Harry awoke with an involuntary groan. Not only did his entire body protest any movement, but his legs felt as if he were under the Jelly-Legs Jinx from being forced to kneel for five hours the night before. He wobbled into the bathroom, reached for his toothbrush, and froze.

When Ron walked in a few minutes later, Harry was still standing in front of the sink, poised to clean his teeth, staring at the toothbrush as if it were Voldemort's face. "You all right, Harry?" Ron asked, eyes wide with concern. Harry whirled around and held the offending object toward his friend. The toothbrush had a curious bend at the end, and the bristles were smashed and dingy. "You've been rough on that thing, haven't you?" Ron observed in a cautious voice.

"He made me - oh Merlin - it was mine - Snape - I used my own ..."

Ron's eyes widened in shock and then narrowed in anger as comprehension dawned. Harry had told him briefly about his detention before collapsing into bed fully clothed the night before. Ron grabbed the toothbrush from Harry's hand and threw it into the rubbish bin. Then he led Harry out of the bathroom, saying, "Come on - we'll find something Hermione can transfigure into a new one."

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Harry and Remus walked into the Room of Requirement, followed by Ted, Andromeda, and Nymphadora Tonks. The click of the door locking behind them seemed abnormally loud in the silence. The room was bare of adornments and furniture, except for a small podium near the centre. The only light came from the candles borne by each of the other occupants of the room.

The three men and two women walked slowly around the semi-circle formed by the members of the Order of the Phoenix. When they reached the end, they crossed in front of the Order members and turned to face them. Every member was present, even Snape. At one end, next to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, stood Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. Harry relaxed and smiled slightly as he caught Ginny looking at him with a small smile, as if to encourage him.

Dumbledore left his place in the centre of the semi-circle and stood behind the podium, his back to Harry, Remus, and the Tonks family. "We have gathered to remember our friend, Sirius Black, and to express sympathy to his loved ones. Sirius left behind family related by blood: his cousin, Andromeda Black Tonks, Andromeda's husband, Theodore, and her daughter, Nymphadora. Sirius also left behind family related by love: his best friend, Remus Lupin, and his godson, Harry Potter." Dumbledore turned to face the family members and raised his wand. The people standing behind him followed suit. "To Andromeda Tonks," the Headmaster said with a wave of his wand.

"To Andromeda Tonks," repeated the crowd, imitating Dumbledore's wand movement.

A stream of golden light drifted from each wand. The streams of light met at a point above Andromeda's head with a soft crack like that of an egg, and a translucent curtain of golden light washed down over her body. Sirius's cousin had been dry-eyed, but now her tears fell freely as if the spell had released them. She looked down at her feet as her husband put his arm around her.

While Andromeda's body was still glowing, the group performed the spell on Ted, Nymphadora, and Remus. Remus remained dry-eyed, but appeared to be struggling to do so. Then it was Harry's turn.

The spell felt like a warm blanket enveloping him, inside and out. Thoughts of Sirius flooded his mind, but they were clearer and sharper than ever before. Love swelled in his chest and a lump formed in his throat; he suddenly realized why the spell had caused the women to cry. He felt like bursting into tears, but also felt an overwhelming happiness that made him want to laugh. He did neither of these, but managed to keep his expression neutral, refusing to reveal his emotions to the crowd.

The warm sensation from the spell slowly dissipated, but the images of Sirius remained. Remus had explained that the purpose of the charm was to comfort the bereaved by sending them positive thoughts and memories of the deceased. The images would stay clear and sharp in his mind for several weeks, allowing him to ponder them when he was safely alone.

Harry reflected on the images a moment longer before shoving them to the back of his mind so he wouldn't lose his composure. He brought his attention back to the gathering and forced himself to focus on following Remus as he walked around the semi-circle to stand behind the group.

Harry was relieved when he was out of sight of the rest of the mourners, but he still felt an overwhelming desire to give in to the swirling emotions, so he forced his mind to go blank and his body to relax. The right side of his lip curled as he realized that practicing control over his mind was useful for more than just Occlumency. His skills would especially come in handy if he was to remain dry-eyed for the next part of the ceremony.

Each of the mourners in turn went to the podium, shared a thought about Sirius, and left their candle hovering in the air beside it. The charm that had been performed earlier would allow Harry to remember the words spoken with perfect accuracy, so he tried to divorce his emotions from the situation and only observe, but a few phrases caught his attention.

"Sirius Black was extremely loyal to those he considered his friends." Although Harry could not find fault with the words, Snape somehow managed to make it sound like an insult. Harry forced himself not to look at the Potions Master and concentrated harder on clearing his mind.

"Sirius Black treated us with respect, like equals, even though we were kids." Harry was surprised at the sentiment from Ron; he had obviously spent some time thinking about what to say. Harry caught his eye and gave him a wobbly smile as he walked back to his place between Hermione and Ginny.

"I know I disagreed with him from time to time, but it was obvious that Sirius Black loved Harry fiercely. He couldn't have loved him more if he had been his own son." That comment from Mrs. Weasley caused Harry to blink his eyes furiously, but two tears escaped in any case.

Finally, the candles were all hovering around the podium and the mourners' hands were empty. Dumbledore went to the podium one last time and said, "The family of Sirius Black asked me to thank you for attending this memorial today. As you know, at this point in the ceremony we would normally file out and leave the family members alone, but in this case I must ask you to leave this room as stealthily as possible, no more than three at a time, please."

Snape unlocked the door and slipped out immediately, but the other mourners lingered to express their sympathy to the family members while waiting for their turn to leave. With unchecked tears streaming down her face, Mrs. Weasley enveloped Harry in a massive hug. Mr. Weasley surprised Harry by embracing him quickly before turning to leave with his wife. Hermione was next, squeezing him tightly and pressing her cheek to his before releasing him.

Harry turned to Ron, who gave him a firm handshake and clapped him on the shoulder. He suddenly felt his stomach clench as he realized he had not been there to cast the charm at Percy's memorial service. However, he refrained from mentioning it since Ron had reacted so badly to his expression of sympathy on the train.

Ginny stepped in front of Harry as soon as Ron let him go. She pulled him into a tentative hug, and he found himself clinging to her a little longer than necessary. She murmured, "I'm so sorry, Harry," into his ear before pulling back.

Harry felt his heart twist at the sight of her tear-stained face, and he felt compelled to say, "I'm sorry about Percy. I wish I could have been there for his service."

"I know." She pulled him into another quick hug and then turned, following Ron and Hermione out the door.

Finally, Harry, Remus, and the Tonks were the only people left in the room. The Tonks clung to each other as they stared at the candles, but Harry and Remus each stood alone, isolated, for the moment, by their individual grief. Harry struggled to control the tears which threatened to overflow as he gazed at the candles, each representing a kind thought about his godfather.

After several minutes, his reverie was broken by a hand on his shoulder. "It's time to go, Harry," Remus whispered. Harry looked up to see that the Tonks were already slipping out the door. He gave Remus a small nod and turned reluctantly away from the mesmerizing sight of the candles.

As they reached the door, Harry turned back briefly and silently said, "Goodbye Sirius." He watched the candles slowly flicker out and then pulled the door shut behind him.

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Harry woke reluctantly the next morning after only four hours of sleep. After dressing hurriedly and grabbing his bag, he staggered into breakfast with just enough time to nick a piece of toast. He grabbed a piece off Ron's plate, sat on the bench with his back to the table, and started munching.

"Where were you last night?" asked Ron, who was just finishing his eggs and bacon. "Hermione and I waited up in the common room until midnight, and I didn't hear you come into the dorm."

Harry chewed on his toast and stared thoughtfully at his plate. Despite being tired, he felt better than he had in months. He was so glad Remus had invited him for tea after the memorial service. Between the ceremony, the memories, and the comments, he had felt totally overwhelmed and had no longer been able hold his grief inside. To his complete mortification, he had utterly broken down in front of Remus, but was relieved that he hadn't been in the dormitory under the scrutiny of his friends. When he had finally regained control and managed to consume some tea and biscuits, Remus had entertained him for hours with stories about Sirius and James.

"Harry?" asked Hermione in a tone that demanded an answer.

"I was with Remus," Harry answered, fighting the impulse to be annoyed. "He was telling me stories about Sirius, and we lost track of time." He finished the toast and turned to take a swig of juice. "Come on, we'll be late." As they hurried toward the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, Ron shoved a newspaper at him.

"Your paper came," he said. "You need to see this, mate."

Harry took the Daily Prophet and looked at the headline: "SIRIUS BLACK: Another Opinion". He skimmed the article as he walked, nodding occasionally at a choice phrase. The article reported how Pettigrew had actually betrayed Harry's parents and framed Sirius for the murders. There were also highlights from the comments at the memorial service.

"You didn't tell us you were doing this," Hermione said, indicating the article with a jerk of her head. Harry was surprised to hear that her tone didn't sound accusatory, only resigned.

"Sorry," Harry murmured. "I wasn't supposed to. The reporter is an Order member - she was at the service yesterday. She interviewed Remus and me before it started."

"Aren't you going to get into trouble for aiding and abetting a criminal?" Hermione asked, her eyes narrowed in worry.

"Dumbledore's practically in control of the Ministry, now," Ron piped up with a shrug. "Besides, he's dead - what can they do?" Harry cringed a little at the use of the word 'dead', but he realized he would have to get used to it, and swallowed his irritation.

"Phyllis Walker," said Hermione, peering at the by-line. "Was she the one with the purple dress robes and blonde hair?"

Harry nodded as they arrived in Defence Against the Dark Arts and took their seats. Even though Harry was very familiar with shielding charms, he enjoyed the class thoroughly. Instead of lecturing, Professor Shacklebolt used entertaining stories of his escapades as an Auror to illustrate the differences between charms.

After Shacklebolt assigned an essay and dismissed the class, Harry walked toward the library alone to wait for Ron, who was walking Hermione to Arithmancy. The buzzing of an insect near his ear surprised him in the noisy hall. He turned toward the noise and raised his hand to swat, but the markings on the beetle caught his eye. After staring at the insect for a moment, he went into an empty classroom, waited for the bug to follow, and locked the door.

"You know," Harry drawled, turning to face the beetle, "it's dangerous going around like that. I almost smashed you!"

Rita Skeeter crossed her arms and gave him an unconvincing pout. "Harry! After all we've been through together - why would you stab me in the back? Giving that amateur your story about Sirius Black!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Possibly because Phyllis Walker actually writes the truth?"

"How could you say such a thing?" the reporter asked, scandalized. "Walker doesn't have the experience I have. She's ..."

"Look," said Harry, cutting her off, "if you will just shut up and listen, I've got an even bigger story in mind for you."

"A bigger story?" Harry smiled at how easily her attention was diverted.

"One that could possibly shake up the Ministry," Harry said, watching the usual eagerness return to the woman's eyes. "However, there are a few conditions."

"I'm listening," said Rita with an expression of morbid hunger.

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Harry stifled a gasp as he stared at the front page of the Daily Prophet the next morning. He scanned the article quickly, and then nudged Ron, who was wolfing down his breakfast in the seat between Harry and Hermione. Ron leaned over to look.

"Well, that's no big shock," said Ron. "I'm only surprised it didn't happen sooner."

"What?" asked Hermione, straining to see the newspaper which Harry and Ron were sharing.

"Death Eaters escaped from Azkaban - the ones from the Department of Mysteries," Ron said around a mouthful of bacon.

"Yeah," said Harry, "but look at the list. Who's missing?"

Ron pulled the paper in front of him to read it properly, and to make it easier for Hermione. "Dolohov ... Macnair ... Mulciber ... Lestrange ..." she murmured. "Oh, my!"

Harry glanced up just in time to see Malfoy throw his newspaper down in disgust and storm out of the Great Hall.

"Why didn't Lucius Malfoy escape with the rest?" Hermione wondered aloud.

"Good question," Harry said, still staring after the blond Slytherin.

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

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Seamus trudged to the Great Hall for lunch after double Potions. Although the Potions Master hadn't managed to take any points from Harry that day, he kept shooting him triumphant glances, apparently trying to remind Harry of his detention the previous Friday. Harry had to keep reminding himself that he was taking the hated class because he wanted to be an Auror.

When they reached the Great Hall, Harry took his normal place beside Ron, and Seamus, after looking up and down the table, sat across from him. They loaded their plates with steak and kidney pies and mashed potatoes, and had just begun eating when Lavender and Parvati came to the table. Harry was a little surprised when Lavender sat next to him and immediately engaged him in conversation.

"How was Potions?" she asked as she poured her pumpkin juice.

"Er ... fine," Harry stammered, and then wondered what on earth he was talking about. "Horrible, actually," he amended.

Lavender giggled. "I'm so glad I gave up that class," she said emphatically. "I can't believe you continued it. Snape always seemed to especially have it in for you."

"Yeah," Seamus agreed while stabbing a carrot with his fork. "He's already had detention this year."

Harry was a little surprised when he realized he was irritated with Seamus for telling Lavender that bit of information; he was suddenly aware that he preferred it when the pretty girl admired him.

"Why did you continue?" asked Parvati, who had settled herself next to Seamus.

"I need a N.E.W.T. in Potions if I want to be an Auror," Harry explained with a shrug.

"An Auror," sighed Lavender. Harry was relieved to see the admiration return to her face as she looked at him with wide eyes. Her eyes were darker than blue, but not quite brown, and he wondered why he had never tried to determine their colour before. She finally blushed and looked away, causing Harry to realize he'd been staring. His food suddenly became extremely interesting. "You'll make a great Auror," she said, looking at her plate. "You're so good at defence..."

"Thanks," Harry mumbled, taking a sudden swig of pumpkin juice. He knew he should say something to keep the conversation going, but what?

He was relieved when Seamus asked the girls what they had done during their free period, and the conversation turned to the Charms essay that was due that afternoon. He relaxed, focusing mainly on his food, but occasionally contributing to the conversation.

When the sixth years had finished their pudding, Harry pulled his bag from under the table and started to get up, but a hand on his arm stopped him. "Would you walk me to class, Harry?" Lavender asked in a voice only he could hear.

Harry looked up in surprise and his breath caught as he noticed that the pink blush on her cheeks was very attractive. He had to keep reminding himself that this was just Lavender, someone he had known for five years. Surely if he could face Voldemort he could walk a girl to class! "Sure," he mumbled. Lavender looked impressed when he shouldered her bag on top of his, which earned him a snicker from Ron and a raised eyebrow from Seamus.

It wasn't far to the Charms classroom, but Harry again had the problem of not knowing what to say. Lavender was silent, which annoyed Harry; he had always thought of her as too talkative before, but she wasn't talking now that he needed her to. He cast around in his mind for a topic, and finally came up with, "Have you started that essay on shielding charms for DADA yet?"

She seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. "Yes," she said, "Parvati and I started it last night. But do you think you could help me with it?"

Since they were still chatting about shielding charms as they walked into Professor Flitwick's classroom, Harry sat next to her without even thinking about it. Ron and Hermione took the table beside theirs. Ron caught Harry's eye and raised an eyebrow, indicating Lavender with a slight jerk of his head. Harry only smiled and gave a little shrug.

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Harry, Ron, Hermione and Lavender walked into the empty Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom fifteen minutes before the first Defence Association meeting was to begin. Lavender had taken to hanging around with the three friends during the past couple of days. Harry was surprised that he actually enjoyed her company; she didn't seem as giggly and gossipy as she had in previous years. Besides, Harry sometimes felt out of place with his two best friends now that they were a couple.

The room was devoid of furniture, just like it was during Harry's private defence lessons. He looked around, satisfied, and then sat next to Lavender on the bottom tier as other students began to file in.

First to arrive were Cho Chang and Michael Corner, holding hands. Harry was pleased that he didn't feel even a pang of regret to see her with another boy. He unconsciously inched closer to Lavender as other students wandered in, seating themselves on the different levels like bleachers.

Luna Lovegood strolled in alone, looking around as if she had never seen the room before. She stopped in front of Ron and stared at him mournfully for a moment before saying, "Ronald, I'm sorry about your brother and your house." Harry was surprised to see tears forming in her eyes. "I saw your house afterwards," she continued before Ron could respond. "Dad and I walked over - we only live a few miles away, you know."

Harry glanced at Ron and saw that he seemed to be struggling with himself. Hermione had a worried expression. Finally, Ron managed to say, "Thanks, Luna." Harry and Hermione both breathed a sigh of relief; Ron's emotions about Percy's death were still volatile.

The blonde turned her mournful eyes toward Hermione. "You will take care of him, won't you?"

Hermione looked at Ron, then back at Luna with wide eyes. Harry looked down to hide a smile; it wasn't often that his intelligent friend was at a loss for something to say. Hermione finally stammered, "O-of course."

"Good," Luna replied with a small nod, apparently satisfied. She turned and drifted into the crowd.

At seven o'clock, Harry stood and turned to face the students. All of the remaining DA members from the previous year were present, including, to Harry's surprise, Marietta Edgecombe. There were also about twenty students who were new to the DA. As he cleared his throat to speak to the large group, he noticed Professor Shacklebolt slip into the room and sit inconspicuously on the top level.

"Hi," Harry greeted, a bit shyly. "Thanks for coming. This is the Defence Association. We will meet every week at this time and place. As most of you know, the DA was formed secretly last year since we had a DADA teacher who wouldn't let us practice defence. Even though that's not the case now, we could still use the extra practice, considering the current ... er ... political climate."

Most of the students nodded at this statement, and all appeared intrigued. Every single eye in the room was riveted to Harry. As he opened his mouth to continue, he was interrupted by an unpleasantly familiar voice.

"I have a question," said Zacharias Smith. Because of his previous experience with Smith, Harry knew to brace himself for something disagreeable. "What are they doing here?" Harry followed the direction of his finger, and his gaze rested on Blaise Zabini and a girl he didn't know.

Harry knew exactly what he meant, but feigned innocence, forcing the Hufflepuff to say it. "What do you mean?"

"They're Slytherins," Smith said succinctly.

"The DA is open to any student fourth year and above," Harry said, forcing his voice to remain calm. "I wasn't aware that any houses were excluded." He glanced up to Shacklebolt, but the teacher only smiled and nodded slightly, as if to say he was managing fine on his own.

"We're at war," Smith protested. "They could be spying for the enemy."

"So could you," Harry said. He ignored the outraged expression of the Hufflepuff and said, "It would be nice if we could tell so easily who's a spy, but we can't. One of the worst Death Eaters was a Gryffindor in school. Professor Shacklebolt is an Auror, but he was in Slytherin." Harry looked around the room, trying to meet the eyes of every student present. "I don't have a problem with anyone who wants to come and practice defence. I do have a problem with anyone who wants to come and make trouble."

Smith scowled but said nothing. Harry glanced at Shacklebolt, who gave him an approving grin, and then looked around the room again. He cleared his throat and continued. "I'm planning to teach you some hexes and defences that will probably be new to you, but we'll also practice familiar spells. In a duel with an enemy, you won't have time to consider which hex to cast - you have to be able to act on instinct, and instinct can only come from experience.

"As you practice, think about which hexes and shields work best for you - everyone is different. If you ever find yourself in a duel with an enemy, you'll want to be ready to play to your strengths. For example, I understand Ginny Weasley has a particular talent for the Bat-Bogey Hex." Ginny, Neville, and Ron all smirked at this, no doubt remembering Malfoy covered in the great flapping bogeys. Even Luna stopped staring into space long enough to shoot a small smile in Ginny's general direction.

"If any of you runs across a new hex or defensive spell when you're doing homework, feel free to talk to me about showing it to the group. I'm not going to pretend to know every possible spell. In addition, Professor Shacklebolt will sometimes be helping us with some of the more advanced spells."

"What about the dementors?" Blaise Zabini interrupted. "I heard you could perform a Patronus Charm. Are you going to teach us that?"

Harry smiled at the black-haired boy; Zabini's question explained the interest the Slytherins had in the club. "Yes - in fact, that's what we were working on when we were - er - forced to disband last year." Zabini nodded and smiled back, but Harry noticed his eyes remained wary.

Harry looked around the room, waiting a moment to see if there would be any more questions. Everyone seemed to be waiting expectantly to begin, so he decided to wrap up his speech. "One last thing before we begin - practicing hexes requires certain - er - sacrifices - from everyone. If you're afraid to cause your partner a little pain, you may as well not be here. Consider that when choosing a partner. We won't be practicing anything that will cause permanent damage, but please, don't cast a hex until you're sure you know the counter-hex." Most students nodded, and Harry saw several smirks in the crowd.

"Okay," Harry said, rubbing his hands together in front of him. "I need you to divide into two groups - members from last year to the front, everyone else to the other levels. Pair off, and practice the Disarming Charm."

The students complied, and Harry walked among them, mentally dividing them into two groups according to skill level. After about fifteen minutes, he stopped them and told them to take turns practicing a shielding charm against the Disarming Charm, and observed them again. He decided everyone who had been in the DA last year belonged in the more advanced group, and sent several of the new ones down to practice with the old members, including Zabini and the other Slytherin.

When the students were divided to his satisfaction, he told the advanced group to practice the hexes and shields of their choice while he worked with the others. Harry drilled the beginner group on proper posture and wand position for the remainder of the period.

After Harry dismissed the group, Professor Shacklebolt took him aside to give him a few suggestions and words of praise. All in all, Harry was feeling rather pleased with himself as he walked to Gryffindor Tower with Ron, Hermione, Lavender and Parvati, who had waited in the corridor for him.

"I can't believe Marietta Edgecombe had the nerve to show her face at the meeting!" exclaimed Lavender, walking next to Harry.

"Speaking of her face," Parvati put in, "I heard she had to spend a whole week at St. Mungo's over the summer to get rid of the spots. Serves her right!"

"That jinx was a brilliant idea, Hermione," praised Ron, putting an arm around his girlfriend and planting a wet kiss on her cheek. Harry noticed that Hermione looked uncomfortable, and suspected that despite Marietta's betrayal, his friend felt badly that she had been the cause of so much pain and embarrassment. Ron let go of Hermione and turned toward Harry. "Why'd you let her stay, Harry? I'd have thrown her out!"

Harry was silent for a moment while he thought about the Ravenclaw girl. "Well," he finally said, "you heard what I said to Smith. As long as she's not causing trouble, I guess I don't have a problem."

"But she's a traitor!" protested Lavender.

"No," Harry said slowly, "she's not - not really - she's just a telltale. She probably thought she was doing the right thing." He looked away from his friends and said, "Sometimes a person can believe they're doing the right thing, but still make a mistake." Harry chanced a glance at Ron, and noticed he looked a little ashamed of himself, presumably for believing the worst about Marietta when he had always accepted Harry's flaws. Then he turned to Lavender, whose wide, dark eyes full of trust and admiration caused a warm sensation in his stomach. He found himself hoping she would continue to see him in that way, and resolved that she would never find out about all the horrible mistakes he had made.