RELATIONS

Chapter XIV

Friday, November 1, 1996

Step-presses from The Daily Prophet and The Truth:

Last night, between approximately 10:45 - 1:30 am, Death Eaters attacked the small Norfolk village of Myrby. The village was technically Muggle, but nearly a third of the village was wizard or mixed wizard/Muggle households. Of the population believed to have been present (189), none survived the attack. All the bodies were mutilated, but identifiable.

It is currently uncertain if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was present for the attack. Also uncertain is what story the Ministry and Muggle officials will create to cover for this massacre.

Harry, Hermione, and Luna stared at the message (again provided early by Dumbledore). They looked up to the Head Table, and saw a very tired Remus Lupin looking back. He nodded, and got up from the table.

The trio followed him into the back room where the Triwizard champions had met after they had been selected. "I see you three received the information," Lupin said simply.

The three shocked teens could only nod.

"We don't know for sure what it means; if it was an isolated act of terror, or the first step in a huge campaign to start a panic in both the Muggle and wizarding world, or what." Remus sat down, still amazed and horrified at the massacre.

"Nothing like this happened in the first war," Remus said slowly. "There were massacres, but all against wizarding families. . . ."

"Like the Potters," Harry stated grimly.

"Exactly," Remus agreed. "There were Muggle-massacres like this in the war against Grindelwald, of course. . . ."

Now it was Hermione who broke in, "But those were covered up by the blitz bombings of World War Two. How can these be hidden?"

Remus sighed. "Nobody has any idea. The Ministry and Dumbledore and who know who else are trying to figure that one out!"

"Maybe that's it, then," Luna said.

"That's what?" Remus asked.

"The main reason everyone was killed," she answered. "They were probably after someone, but if they killed everyone it would be harder to figure out why any one person was killed. And if everyone who is anyone is busy thinking up excuses to give to the Muggles, then who's left trying to solve the mystery?"

"You may very well be right," Remus said.

"Were any Hogwarts students from Myrby?" Hermione asked.

"Probably," Remus answered. "Professor McGonagall is checking the records now." He sighed. "There is one other possibility. Now read the other notice."

"Sixty-three missing Muggles?" Hermione asked, shocked. Sixty-three young Muggles had been reported as 'missing' under unusual circumstances since early September.

"That's what it says," Luna pointed out. "All fairly young men, too." She looked up. "What do you get when you combine sixty-three Muggles, Dementors, and a Dark Wizard?"

"Is that a joke," Hermione asked, not certain if Luna was asking a serious question or being silly.

Harry rolled his eyes, but Luna merely said, "You get more soulless zombies -- easier to control, and it's faster to assert that control."

"And last night might have been a test-run," Harry said. "The zombies would just tear those poor people apart."

"Most probably," Remus agreed.

Edward walked into the room. "I see you got the early notices, too." Harry merely nodded.

"Sunday, the DA will stop working on the Patronus. It's time to start in on zombies. Have the DA meet on the near side of the marsh next to the lake."

"Yes, sir."

Harry and Luna exchanged glances. Whatever Edward had planned for them, it was not going to be pleasant.

Sunday, November 3, 1996

The thirty-nine current members of the DA assembled as requested. Professors Snape, Potter, and Lupin were there as well. It was rare for any professor to attend the DA, although Edward and Remus had stopped by for a few minutes once each.

"Zombies," Lupin stated, "you all know what they are -- people brought to near death and partially controlled by a Dark Wizard. Some are used as servants, as they are under a control so total it makes the Imperius curse look weak for most uses. The difference, of course, if that they cannot act normally."

"Zombies may also be used in combat. Their most primitive instincts are brought out, and they will maim and kill. However, this may cause revulsion even to a zombie long under the enchantments. The zombie may then break the spell. To break the spells from outside the enchantments, there are a number of potions that may merely be splashed on the zombie, and its will and personality will slowly be restored."

"However, the soulless, those Kissed by dementors, may be used without fear that the spell can be ended. They will tear their most beloved apart without a hint of remorse. No known potion will break the spells. Only destruction, best accomplished by separating the head from the body, will stop the soulless zombie. Not even the Killing Curse will stop one."

Snape took up the tale. Sensing his position with Voldemort was finally crumbling, he had gone public with his involvement and had been officially pardoned just the evening before. It was already known Voldemort had offered a 10,000 Galleon reward for his head, 15,000 for him alive -- in both cases twice what was being offered for Karkaroff, who was still in hiding. Malfoy's following in Slytherin was now down to a solid and die-hard nine, with perhaps another six or nine still leaning.

A flip of his wand, and a tarp flew off a large near-by pile, revealing the pumpkins from Halloween. Another flip and one was floating in mid-air. "Reducto!" The jack-o-lantern exploded.

"So easy, in theory," Snape said. Another pumpkin levitated, and was transformed into a human head. "Harder, when it's a person." The face even blinked. "Strike, and you might have killed a regular zombie who could have been saved, or a real, whole person. Hesitate, and you might be torn apart, just like those people in Myrby."

Most of the students shuddered. "Kill or be killed," Snape went on. "That's one of the evils of the Dark Lord. To fight him, you sometimes need to do things that you normally would, and should, feel guilty about having done."

The students stood there, silent.

"The Reductor Curse, with the power behind it needed to destroy a head, will tire some of you out quickly," Edward stated. "There is only one easy alternative." His left hand came out of his robes, and there was a large explosion that shocked all the students and frightened most of them. The pumpkin-head exploded.

Justin Finch-Fletchley recovered his voice first. "Sawed-off shotgun? 30-30?"

"Exactly," Edward said. Edward held it up. "This is a Muggle weapon. The gun powder sends a projectile at deadly speed. These are special shells -- they will take a man's head right off. They are also charmed, and will go through most shield charms."

Several students gasped.

"Yes, these are technically illegal," Snape told them. "We have permission to use them. Like I said, to fight evil, sometimes you have to fight dirty."

"Now, we have several score pumpkins. These," Edward held the gun aloft, "are nasty and even painful to use. We will practice Reductor Curses, and then, those who wish to may remain and give them a try."

After nearly an hour, the group had the Reductor curse down, although few people were sure they could actually use it against a human, or once-human, opponent. Over half the DA were willing to give the sawed-off shotguns a chance. The next hour was loud and messy. Only Justin, Seamus, Harry, Luna, Ginny, and Ron were able to handle the weapon, most of the rest giving up after dealing with one or two recoils. A few of the boys kept trying, embarrassed that tiny Ginny and slender Luna were able to fire the guns and come back for more. The two girls were simply more determined than those boys, however, and more willing to endure the pain when they fired the shotguns incorrectly.

A few days later, a number of special robes arrived at Hogwarts. In addition to space for extra wands, there was a pocket for the sawed-off shotgun and twenty shells. If there was any warning of an attack on Hogwarts, the DA would be ready to help out.

Harry (working on Hermione's suggestions), having worked out the details first with Professor McGonagall and then the other Heads of the Houses, also staged some defense drills. While a number of Slytherin students made fun of them and even disrupted the first one, the other Slytherins took care of the problems; Draco and his friends were only moderately bruised but learned to keep their opinions to themselves.

Harry's time was very full, but for the first time he didn't seem at all buried in emotion or even worried, at least compared to the last few years. He finally had gotten into Charms and Transfiguration; he went from doing very well to nearly rivaling Hermione in the practicals. Harry hated to admit it, but his Occlumency lessons had really taught him to concentrate in general, and especially how to concentrate on the magic within himself. The Occlumency itself was going so well that he would be allowed to start on Legilimency in the spring, just as Snape had predicted. Harry's work in Defense was now the top of his class in the written work as well as the practical.

Harry was doing well in Herbology and Basic Medical Training. He was still struggling in Potions, but for the first time was finding it interesting. Add in his Quidditch practice, the DA, the time he was spending with Luna as part of a couple, and with Luna, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville as a group, Harry had little real free time.

He didn't miss it very much. Partly, it was not in Harry's nature to be the quiet, contemplative type; partly it was his readiness to avoid emotional worry (at this point he was still grieving for Sirius and dealing with the Prophecy -- having Edward and Remus nearby and dating Luna was buoying his emotions, not presenting problems to weigh him down).

Harry, of course, did not think in these terms at all. Unknown to Harry, however, every Sunday morning, starting in mid-September, Dumbledore served coffee. The group invited every Sunday were Harry's teachers (including Edward, as his official Occlumency instructor). The subject, of course, was Harry.

They were all worried about him. They all knew (even Snape) that Harry still had major problems to work his way through. They were all therefore keeping a close eye on him, to see if those problems, or the lesser, everyday ones of any student, were taking him over the line towards depression or over-stress.

So far, he was showing less signs of strain than he had at the end of the previous year. In part, this was because Harry finally knew what was expected from him and, to a large degree, why it was expected. Facing a life-or-death struggle was not an easy burden for anyone to shoulder, let alone at age sixteen, but it was slightly less stressful for Harry than being left in the dark.

In part, it was because Harry had five very good friends, one of them a girlfriend, to give him support. Harry knew, in the end, he would have to face Voldemort alone. He no longer felt he had to worry about getting to that final confrontation alone as well. And having five friends spread the support out; he did not feel he was a burden to them as he had sometimes felt when it was just Ron and Hermione.

Ron was his best mate. Hermione was his knowledgeable support, Luna his emotional center, and Ginny had become his cheerleader -- always urging him on. Neville had grown to be someone Harry could share his darker moods with, and whom Harry could help through similar feelings.

But still, every week, the group met and discussed Harry and his friends. In part, it was because most of them liked him (except for Snape), or even loved him. In part, it was because they knew so much depended on him.

Starting in late October, another change had come into Harry's routine. While the group was meeting, Carole (who spent every weekend at Hogwarts) would hold a brunch. Harry had attended twice before that, but Carole drew him closer just before Halloween.

Harry had never been around a pregnant woman before, and it had made him nervous in September and October. Carole, aided by Luna and Ginny, had finally gotten Harry interested in knowing the next Potter. Harry had even started wondering to Luna if he might be asked to be the baby's godfather.

The final thing that was helping Harry to cope better than he had the previous spring was much more basic. He was flying again. Aloft, all those unreasonable burdens fell away. Hermione worked hard to help Harry schedule a few flying times outside of Quidditch practice. Quite often, he would simply fly, with Ron, Luna, or Ginny flying as well. Sometimes, they even played tag. Other times, Harry was helping Hermione or Neville brush up on their skills.

So the group watched, and worried, even though they were happy there were so few signs of strain. Each member knew, however, conditions would continue to worsen. The attack on Merby would either not be an isolated one, or had been a test which would signal something even worse.

Voldemort and his 'associate' were playing things very closely. The Death Eaters never met as a large group any more. The 'associate' was growing more and more powerful in the group -- Snape had seen the 'associate' had been growing more and more suspicious of his conduct, and so had had to stop direct spying.

Madam Pomfrey was worried about Harry, too, but she was starting to worry more about some of Harry's watchers. The effects of stress certainly did not lessen with age.

Saturday, November 23, 1996

"Miss Lovegood! If you expect to be allowed into the Infirmary, you will take that silly lion off your head!"

The lion's head hat growled a bit, but Luna obediently removed it and sat it inside the outer door. Hermione and Neville fidgeted as she did so, as they wanted to see Harry. The game was still going on, and if Harry was alright, they would have to go back to watch Ron and Ginny.

"What happened?" Madam Pomfrey asked Remus, who had brought Harry in. Poppy Pomfrey had known and loved Remus as she'd cared for few students over the years, and she had never seen the man as angry as he was now.

"It was the most deliberate set of fouls I've ever seen," Remus said, barely managing to keep his voice down. "A beater. . . ."

"Nott Major," Hermione supplied.

". . . deliberately threw his club at Harry's head. Struck him right in the back of the skull! Then that chaser. . . ."

"Nott Minor," Hermione added, helpfully.

"Yes, Hermione, I know all the students!" Remus flared. It was only two more days until the next full moon, and Remus was edgier than usual.

"Sorry," Hermione said in a small voice.

"I'm sorry for snapping," Remus told her. "Anyway, the younger Nott boy swerved and rammed Harry deliberately. Ginny Weasley managed to slow him down, otherwise he might have been. . . ."

"I see," Pomfrey said, who had been examining Harry the whole time. "No breaks, mild concussion, and he'll have a nasty headache when he wakes up." She glanced at the group. "You can go back to the game. He'll be fine."

Hermione and Neville glanced at the group, patted Luna on the shoulder, and left. Remus was undecided about what to do when Carole Potter came in on a run.

"He's fine, Mrs. Potter," Pomfrey told her. "You should slow down in your condition!"

Carole puffed for a few seconds, then turned to Remus. "You might want to go down to the field. Hooch threw the two Notts out of the game, but Edward is out for their blood. He and Snape are in the middle of an argument that even Minerva doesn't want to get in the middle of." Dumbledore was in London, at the Ministry, and so was of no help.

"And you want me to?"

Carole shrugged. "Between the two of us. . . ."

Remus sighed. "All right." He glanced at Harry. "I never seem to be able to be there for him."

"You are, Professor Lupin," Luna said. "Trust me, you are."

Remus gave her a smile, and then allowed himself to be whisked off by Carole.

"Madam Pomfrey?" The witch looked at her. "Maybe Harry should be in a private room? Otherwise, everyone will bother him, once the game is over, I mean."

The witch gave her a smile, and moved Harry's bed into one of the private rooms. "You know, Miss Lovegood, I once suggested the same when Mister Pomfrey was injured by a bludger. I'll just remind you, as my predecessor told me -- yes, the door locks, and simple spells won't open them. You can't override my commands, though."

Luna blushed, which was very unusual for her. "Of course not, Madam Pomfrey."

After Madam Pomfrey had left the room, Luna locked the door, took off her shoes, cloak, blazer, scarf, jumper (it had been a cold, windy day), and tie. She climbed up on the bed, and laid down. Harry partially woke up, gathered her in his arms, and they fell asleep.

"Really!" Dumbledore scolded, "I'm ashamed of the pair of you! You are both at fault, so I want no excuses, recriminations, blame, or vengeance. I wish I could put the pair of you in detention!"

"Sorry, sir."

"Sorry, sir." Both men looked abashed at best.

"Now, Edward, I agree that both Notts must be severely punished. It is, however, up to Severus and myself to decide on that punishment. Severus, there was no need to escalate the confrontation through such foul language in front of the students! You do not wish the Notts expelled. I will agree only if truly adequate punishment is meted out. They are under House detention until that punishment is decided."

"Yes, sir," Snape said, feeling worse than he had the first time he'd been called into the Headmaster's office, back in his third year.

"Yes, sir," Edward said, feeling almost as bad as Snape. He turned to Snape. "I apologize for confronting you in public, and in letting my temper get the best of me."

Snape glared for a moment, but then relented. "I apologize for letting my temper flare up first."

"Go on, you both have work to do!"

Once they were gone, McGonagall turned to Dumbledore. "Sometimes, I swear boys never grow up!"

"We never truly do, my dear Professor McGonagall, we never do."

Draco Malfoy slipped into Professor Snape's office, where the two Nott brothers were awaiting their fate. "That was a bit more obvious than I had hoped, but you both did a good job," he told them. "The Dark Lord, and your father, will not be disappointed, even if it turns out Potter wasn't severely injured. Our Master wants Potter to know he's never totally safe, not even here." Draco opened the door, and then took off.

"We're in deep shit, aren't we?" Thomas asked his older brother.

"Fairly deep," Theodore admitted. "Still, we're committed."

Thomas sighed. "It might have been easier to bear if that arse had managed to catch the bloody snitch."

"That would have taken a miracle. Gryffindor could have had Longbottom, with a broken arm, as a seeker and Malfoy still would have missed the snitch."

"As always."

"Exactly."