Harry Potter and the Power the Dark Lord Knows Not

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CHAPTER ELEVEN

A TIME TO HEAL

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The following Monday classes resumed again. As Harry, Ron, and Hermione ambled slowly towards Snape's dark and oppressive classroom that morning, Harry noted that the overall atmosphere in the corridors was somber and fearful. The normal noisy chatter the students usually exhibited had been replaced with a muffled silence as everyone shuffled through the corridors, no one speaking above a whisper. Harry had seen an extremely melancholy Stewart Ackerley earlier at breakfast in the Great Hall, but Stewart had merely sat quietly at the table with his friends, not really eating anything. Before reaching the dungeons, Harry had also spotted both Duncan Morey and Sarah, the little Hufflepuff girl, as they made their way through the crowded halls. Duncan had looked lost, almost as though he had no idea of where he was, and Harry had watched forlornly as Duncan listlessly followed his fourth year classmates into the Charms corridor. Sarah's face had appeared terribly pale and swollen; her eyes bloodshot. As Sarah made it to the doors that led outside to the Herbology greenhouses, Harry saw Professor Sprout meet her and lead her out onto the grounds, a protectively maternal arm around Sarah's tiny shoulders.

Harry glanced over at Ron and Hermione. Hermione had apparently noticed Sarah's mournfully sad appearance as well, and she was biting her lip tremulously. Hermione then stole a furtive glimpse up at Ron. He was wearing a slightly glazed expression. Ron didn't appear to have seen Sarah or anyone else - he didn't appear to have noticed much of anything, lately. Yesterday had been the first day that Hermione had succeeded in coaxing Ron to eat a proper meal again, but he seemed only marginally improved. Ron wasn't talking much yet, and as he headed into the boy's lavatory, Hermione immediately turned to Harry.

"I'm so very worried about him, Harry," she whispered in a rush, her voice quaking with emotion. As Harry peered over at her, Hermione's eyes suddenly filled with anxious tears. "Oh, no," she sniffed, trying to wipe the tears away. "I can't let Ron see me like this right now." Hermione then took a deep breath, fighting for control.

"Hermione," Harry began cautiously. "Ron's beginning to improve. It's just going to take a while."

"I know. It's just so hard feeling this helpless all the time. First, it was you and now..." Hermione trailed off, embarrassed by her inadvertent slip of the tongue. "I'm sorry, Harry..." Hermione gasped fretfully, turning away.

Harry looked carefully at Hermione. She had always been quite sensitive to the needs of those around her, but Harry hadn't realized until that moment just what kind of toll this had been taking on her. As Harry watched her, he noticed that she was trembling from head to foot. He was able to see that Hermione was under a tremendous amount of pressure and strain, and Harry then put a steadying hand on her shoulder, turning her back around.

"Hermione, listen, it'll be all right. I know I was - well, messed up for a while, but I'm better now. Ron'll get better, too, you'll see," Harry said, trying to comfort his friend. He paused for a moment then said, "We talked the other night, you know. Afterwards, he seemed to come back to himself a bit. It's just going to take some time, okay?"

"But Harry," Hermione cried, still upset. "Everything is just going to keep getting worse. Voldemort and the Death Eaters aren't going to stop at London. They're going to continue to destroy more lives, more families."

"I know," Harry replied. He took a long breath. Harry didn't want to bring up the fact that it was ultimately his responsibility to stop this evil before it encroached further into their lives, something he knew he must do sooner rather than later. "That's why we..." Harry broke off hastily as Ron emerged from the bathroom. Harry then bent down and pretended to lace up his shoe as Hermione stared at the floor and unobtrusively cleared her throat. "Ready to go, then?" Harry asked as he straightened up, trying to distract Ron from Hermione's distress.

Ron nodded dully, luckily he hadn't noticed that anything was amiss. Harry looked from Ron's blank stare to Hermione's deeply worried expression and wondered if their lives had simply gone too far down this frightening path to possibly turn back. Harry then glanced at the other students as they passed him in the corridor. Unfortunately, it seemed that everyone's emotions were balancing on the same kind of tenuous thread; each of them appeared to be antsy and nervous as they filtered into the surrounding classrooms. As Ron and Hermione entered the Potions classroom in front of him a moment later, Harry sighed heavily. He knew that things were probably going to get worse before they got any better.

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Upon entering the dungeon, Harry noticed that the students weren't the only ones who were behaving differently. Snape stood silently at the front of the room for a full two minutes before he began the class. Harry and Hermione both eyed Snape anxiously wondering what was going on. Even Ron eventually glanced up to peer at the Potions master suspiciously. When Snape finally did speak, his voice sounded somewhat odd. It sounded almost flat, very unlike Snape's typically waspish tones.

"You shall now learn how to brew a potion known as the Draught of Protection..." Snape left off; he had said this in a dry monotone, with no inflection in his voice at all. He wasn't even looking at anyone in the room, instead his black eyes were focused rather strangely upon the chalkboard, as though he was peering right through it. As if in slow motion, Snape then tapped the board with his wand and the ingredients and instructions appeared there. When Snape turned back towards his class, he noticed that they were staring at him most curiously. Even Malfoy in the front row seemed to have picked up on his Head of House's unusual behavior, he was gaping at Snape just like everyone else was. As Snape caught Harry's eye at the back of the dungeon, however, he seemed to regain his customary sharply rude manner quickly.

"As its name implies, this potion when properly concocted provides the drinker with short term protection against minor forms of attack. It allows one to walk through flames for a brief time, whether magical or otherwise, and it has even been known to prevent certain rare and often fatal poisons from being completely effective on their victims. The Draught of Protection can save lives, hence it's importance here. Obviously, the creation of this potion takes presence of mind and great subtlety, so we shall see how many of you are up to the task. I'm quite sure not all of you are," Snape sneered as he focused once more upon Harry. Everyone in the class was still hesitating as they watched the Potions master warily.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Begin!" Snape snapped irritably, as he grumpily circled the Slytherin's desks at the front, specifically ignoring everyone else.

"What was all that about?" Harry asked Ron and Hermione, as he continued to study Snape apprehensively.

"I don't know, Harry, but I don't ever remember him acting like this before," Hermione answered softly, as she carefully added ingredients to her cauldron and lit a fire underneath it with her wand.

Ron didn't speak, but he did keep sneaking surreptitious glances at Snape throughout the rest of the double period. Harry looked away from Snape and realized that his abnormal behavior had evidently pulled Ron out of his blank sullenness. Hermione had noted this as well, and as she glimpsed over at Harry, he gave her an encouraging grin. Harry knew that curiosity was far better than despair, and he certainly welcomed anything remotely positive at this point.

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As the weeks passed, the cold harshness of winter dissipated temporarily providing a slightly warmer reprieve from the ordinarily freezing temperatures, and Hogwarts was again settling into something of a natural atmosphere. Students were once more chatting in the corridors and the Great Hall was full of happy noisy laughter at mealtimes. Ron and Ginny both seemed much improved. Harry and Hermione were truly relieved, it had been an endlessly long three months. During their most recent Quidditch practice, Harry noticed that Ron and Ginny were once again playing with their same old fervor, apparently totally focused on the game. Thankfully, with each successive practice, each of them had continued to become less and less despondent.

The Quidditch Final was due to be played in a few weeks and Captain Katie Bell, while much more soft-spoken than Wood or Angelina, was continuing to push the Gryffindor team to secure the Quidditch Cup again - no one wanted the Slytherins to win, especially since several of their parents were confirmed Death Eaters. Duncan Morey had taken a while to get back to his original excellent form. Duncan's face had been tremendously drawn during their first couple of practices, and everyone could sense that he was still in too much emotional distress to really have his heart in the game. One day after having nearly plowed himself forcefully into the ground, Duncan had seemed more discouraged and upset than usual, and Harry had landed nearby giving him a hand up. Duncan appeared to be rather surprised and pleased at Harry's considerateness, and he managed to give Harry a small grateful smile as he got back onto his broom. More recently, though, Duncan had begun to throw himself into every practice with an immense amount of dedication and determination, playing almost to the point of exhaustion. Harry remembered doing the very same thing earlier this year, and he believed that he could understand Duncan's current state of mind better than most.

Before Halloween when the team had practiced, Harry had needed the full throttle challenge of Quidditch to ease his mind and tire his restlessness. Lately, however, Harry was less concerned with his own feelings and more focused on his friends. Ginny in particular was constantly in Harry's thoughts as he raced up and down the pitch, trying to keep an eye out for the Snitch while checking on her as often as possible. Harry was continually amazed at Ginny's strength and tenacity in the face of such a close loss, and he now knew that Ginny had always loved and admired Percy, even if her older brother had been more than a bit pretentious on occasion. Percy had been exceptionally protective of Ginny, especially when she had first started at Hogwarts, and Ginny had known that that was Percy's way of showing affection. One night in late February after Ron and Hermione had left them alone in the common room, Ginny had shared some of her memories of Percy with Harry. As he changed into his Quidditch robes that morning, Harry smiled at the memory as he let his thoughts drift back to that night...

"I remember once when I was about eight years old the older boys, other than Percy, were whizzing around on their broomsticks one evening throwing an old beat up Quaffle around. I kept asking to play, but they would never let me, saying that I was too little and a girl besides," Ginny had grimaced, remembering her childhood irritation. "Percy came up to me then and led me back into the house. He said that there was much more to life than playing Quidditch and asked if I would feel better if he read me a story. I said yes, and he did. And well, you know Percy; the story was horribly dull, of course, it was about the lifecycle of flobberworms or some such drivel, and I fell asleep while he was reading. I woke up the next morning, though, tucked into my own bed with the book sitting on my bedside cabinet. Percy was kind of stuffy, I know, but he could be so sweet when he wanted to be," Ginny broke off, staring morosely at the burning logs crackling in the hearth. "I guess I never actually realized how much I missed things like that. I guess I didn't realize how much I loved Percy until it was too late to tell him."

Ginny then got up and sat next to Harry in the same squashy armchair. She slowly leaned against him resting her head on his chest and Harry wrapped an arm around her as they sat there quietly, both of them simply staring into the flames until there was nothing left but glowing embers. Some time later, Harry felt a sharp poke and opened his eyes abruptly. He and Ginny had both fallen asleep together by the fire. Harry turned his head to see a familiar but oddly dressed house-elf with a long pencil-like nose and large tennis ball-shaped eyes peering back at him close by.

"Dobby?" Harry inquired sleepily. "What time is it?"

"It is nearly two o'clock in the morning, Harry Potter, sir," Dobby whispered in his high-pitched voice, looking nervous yet pleased. "Dobby is sorry to wake Harry Potter, sir, but Dobby is very glad to see you again."

"Ron and Hermione will be sorry they missed seeing you, Dobby," Harry whispered kindly, becoming more fully awake now. He noticed that Dobby was once again wearing a tea cozy for a hat, along with about three of Hermione's multitude of misshapen elf hats from last year. He was also again wearing Ron's maroon Weasley jumper. Dobby's socks, however, appeared to be new. He was wearing one atrociously garish green and purple striped sock and the other was a fluorescent pink one with yellow toes. Harry couldn't help grinning; he knew Dobby's favorite piece of clothing in the world was socks, the uglier the better. Harry looked down into Ginny's face, she was still lying against him sound asleep. Harry gradually sat up straighter in the chair, and Ginny began to wake. She started slightly when she caught sight of Dobby's huge eyes gleaming in the dim light.

"Ginny," Harry said, by way of introduction. "Do you remember Dobby the house-elf? He saved everyone in the D.A. from Umbridge last year."

"Oh yes, I remember. I'm pleased to finally meet you face to face, Dobby. I'm Ginny Weasley," she replied, turning to Dobby and smiling politely.

"Wheezy?" Dobby asked, in surprised awe.

"Yes, Dobby," Harry answered, "Ginny is Ron's sister."

"Oh, Harry Potter, sir!" Dobby sputtered, smiling widely at them both. He seemed positively thrilled at the prospect of meeting another member of the Weasley family. Dobby was quite fond of Ron.

"Well, I guess we should be getting up to bed, Dobby," Harry said, carefully slipping out of the chair and taking Ginny's hand.

"Oh yes, Harry Potter, sir. Goodnight," Dobby said, smiling his toothy grin.

"Goodnight, Dobby," Ginny whispered.

Harry led Ginny to his staircase, and they went up a few steps until they could no longer see Dobby as he began to tidy the Gryffindor common room. Once in the shadows, Ginny looked up into Harry's face.

"I didn't mean to fall asleep on you like that, Harry," Ginny whispered, somewhat apologetically.

"Don't feel bad, I feel asleep, too," Harry answered. "I'd walk you to your door, but I saw what happened to Ron when he tried to go get Hermione that one time."

"What happened?" Ginny asked.

"Well," Harry grinned. "According to Hermione, the Hogwarts founders decided that boys aren't as trustworthy as girls are. So when Ron tried to climb the staircase leading up to Hermione's dormitory last year, it turned into a big slide and a loud alarm went off. Ron ended up sprawled at the bottom in a rather, er... undignified position."

Ginny giggled, "I didn't know about that one." After a moment, though, her face once again assumed a more serious expression. "Thank you, Harry," she said softly, kissing him on the cheek.

"For what?" Harry asked, feeling a bit confused.

"For being there for me. For being such a good listener. I still feel really down sometimes, but being with you helps, somehow." Ginny paused in the near darkness, and Harry gazed at her inquisitively. She had begun to smile at him enigmatically. "Well, anyway... Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight," Harry whispered, as he let go of her hand. Harry watched her go as she quietly tread down the stairs and disappeared. For some reason he was suddenly feeling much more optimistic about things, and as he entered his dormitory Harry found that he was smiling, too.

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As the Gryffindor Quidditch practice ended with a spectacular two-fingered catch of Harry's, the team headed for the locker rooms, feeling pleasantly hopeful. Gryffindor had already won their matches against both Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, and while the Slytherin team had done the same, Gryffindor was carrying a slight lead in overall points earned. Harry hoped that they could win the silver Quidditch Cup again this year, not only because he'd been unable to participate in Gryffindor's win last year because of Umbridge's ban, but also because he was dying to wipe the disgusting smirk off of Draco Malfoy's face. Ever since the Death Eater's attacks in London had killed Percy and several others, Malfoy had been strutting around the school as if his father was the headmaster instead of Dumbledore. Harry had had to go to incredibly great lengths to ignore this, and he had only succeeded in doing so because of Hermione.

Malfoy had first started behaving more obnoxiously than usual when Ron and Ginny were still at the Burrow right after Percy had been killed. Harry had seen him swaggering around with his cronies in the Great Hall one day and as Harry and Hermione walked by, Malfoy specifically raised his voice so that they couldn't help but overhear him. "Father said that they were running around like frightened church mice, they were. It was pathetic. Now that the Dark Lord has gotten some more information from a helpful little source it should be that much easier to make those mudblood-lovers pay," Malfoy intoned callously, as the other Slytherin's laughed inanely nearby. "Father and his friends are really doing us a favor by clearing out that riff-raff, anyway. We certainly don't tolerate that mixing nonsense in our family line - unlike certain families - like those stupid Weasley's. 'Course the Dark Lord's helping them out a bit, too - their pitiful hovel has one less mouth to feed as well, you know... He's made sure of that." Harry had halted quickly, immediately incensed. Without even thinking, Harry already had his wand out and pointed at Malfoy's bigoted face when Hermione hastily grabbed his arm in an astonishingly firm grip.

"Harry, you mustn't - " cried Hermione, as she tried to push him in the opposite direction.

"He just said that a 'helpful little source' gave Voldemort information!" Harry whispered furiously. He had a good idea of who that source had to have been.

"I know, but -"

"And he's also insulting the memory of Percy and all those other people the Death Eaters murdered, Hermione! I can't just stand by and let him get away with that," Harry insisted angrily.

"Oh yes, you can. For Ron and Ginny's sake, you're going to have to,"

Hermione responded, continuing to pull him away. "Look, I know Malfoy deserves it, Harry - I'd like to jinx him myself, but that's not going to help Ron or Ginny. You know you won't be able to be there for them if you're stuck in detention for hexing Malfoy."

After calming down, Harry grudgingly admitted to himself that Hermione had been right. Harry knew that Malfoy would be utterly thrilled if Harry got into trouble because of him. And as upset as he was at the prospect of Kreacher's possible reappearance, he knew there was nothing he could do about it at the moment. After this rather nasty incident, Harry tried his best to pretend that Malfoy simply no longer existed; he decided that being there for his friends was infinitely more important than cursing Malfoy into oblivion, no matter how delightful that particular concept always sounded to him, especially now.

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It was breakfast three months later now, and the Daily Prophet was being delivered to Hermione, narrowly missing her bowl of porridge. She disappeared behind it as usual. A few seconds later, however, someone stomped sharply on Harry's foot beneath the table. "Ouch," Harry muttered, glaring up at everyone sitting across from him. While Ron and Ginny glanced over at him quizzically, though, Harry noticed that Hermione was staring at the paper and then back at him pointedly. Hermione then rolled up the paper and appeared to drop it into her bag. Harry abruptly realized that there was something in that specific edition of the Prophet that Hermione didn't want either Ron or Ginny to see. Harry then felt something tapping against his knee under the table and while Hermione conveniently faked a coughing fit, Harry nonchalantly secreted it into his robes while no one was looking.

Before Harry, Ron, and Hermione reached Moody's classroom, Harry pretended that he had forgotten something, and slipped back around the nearest corner. After entering the classroom with Ron, Hermione had doubled back as well and then reappeared outside in the corridor a moment later. Harry waved her over, but before he could even ask her what was so important, Hermione had wrested the Daily Prophet from his grasp and was rapidly turning through it.

"It's on page eight, Harry. See - "

Harry peered down at a tiny article in the middle of the page. It had a small heading over it, and it appeared to be a list of recently deceased. It reminded him of the obituary page in a Muggle newspaper. "We are now able to release publicly the names of the witches and wizards who died during the Death Eater's attacks at the beginning of this year," Harry read. Underneath this heading were several names listed in italics, including Percy Weasley's, and Harry instantly realized why Hermione had been so keen to keep this paper away from Ron and Ginny's eyes. As Harry continued to read the names listed, though, one of the other names unexpectedly jumped out at him.

"Hermione, look. 'Mrs. Mildred Snape-MacArthur, wife of Harold MacArthur and mother of Severus Snape' - Snape's mother got killed the same day that Percy did!" Harry whispered, completely stunned.

"Yes," said Hermione, keeping her voice low. "I think that might explain why he's been behaving so strangely this term, Harry. Snape has just had a horrible loss, too."

Harry paused. He really didn't want to feel sympathy for someone he hated as much as Snape, but he almost reluctantly found himself remembering something that had happened last year. When Snape had been supposedly teaching him how to do Occlumency, Harry at one point had successfully performed a Shield charm which caused Snape's memories to flow into Harry's mind for a few quick seconds. One of the memories that Harry had witnessed involved a very young Snape cowering in a corner as his father savagely screamed at his mother. Harry remembered being somewhat disturbed by this memory. It had made him realize that Snape's childhood may not have been any better than his own had been. Harry knitted his brow hesitantly, though, as he remembered all of the Christmas holidays that he had spent here at Hogwarts. Snape had always stayed here as well.

"But Hermione, if Snape had a family, why did he never go there on holiday?"

"Who knows, Harry. I just wanted to keep Ron and Ginny from seeing this. They're finally starting to feel better now, and I don't want that to change," Hermione replied adamantly.

"Yeah, me neither. Well, I suppose we'd better get back before Moody tries to hunt us down or something," Harry said, leading the way across the stone corridor.

As he and Hermione slid in next to Ron a moment later, Harry frowned, wondering about his Potions professor. Harry couldn't help but absolutely loath the man, but he knew that Snape had saved him in the past, as much as he hated to admit it. Snape was also continuing to work for Dumbledore and the Order, and for some unknown reason Dumbledore insisted on trusting him. Harry knew Snape had once been a Death Eater, and he was definitely capable of being cruel and mean-spirited, but Harry still wasn't sure where Snape's true loyalties lay. Harry had seen that Snape had not been happy growing up, and Harry knew that even his own father, James, had been partially responsible for that.

As Harry sat in Defense Against the Dark Arts that day, he peered into Mad-Eye Moody's mangled face. Harry knew that Moody had not trusted Snape in the past either, but he wasn't sure how Moody truly felt about the man now. Of course, Harry wasn't certain that Moody ever trusted anyone entirely. Moody definitely didn't seem to like Snape and that feeling was apparently more than mutual. Even so, as Harry sat only half paying attention to Moody's lecture, he continued to have mixed feelings over the matter. He wondered if he would ever genuinely understand the mystery that was Severus Snape.

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That following Friday evening as many of the older students were studying in the library, Harry found himself feeling grateful that it was the weekend. Classes were continuing to get more and more intense as they neared their final exams, and as Ginny continued to work feverishly trying to finish her Charms essay, Harry knew that she probably felt the same way that he did. O.W.L.s were almost here for Ginny, and Harry knew from last year's experience that they could be extremely taxing.

Ron and Hermione were sitting across from them, each working on their own long essays. Their quills scratched furiously as they continued to fill in pages of parchment - though Ron didn't appear to have written near as much as Hermione had. Hermione's work load was less than last year's, but as she, Ron, and Harry had discovered, N.E.W.T. level classes were vastly more complicated and difficult than O.W.L. level. Though they had been working hard on learning the theory behind human transformations this year during Advanced Transfiguration, they had found the actual practice to be a challenge nonetheless. Initially, Professor McGonagall had taught them to transform each other into inanimate objects; clocks, chairs, tables, and that sort of thing. And Harry, Ron, and Hermione had eventually succeeded in doing that before the Christmas holidays.

Now, however, they were supposed to transform each other into animals, and that was proving to be far more tricky. Thankfully, though, there was the occasional respite. One comical afternoon, many students left the classroom wearing a few lingering black and white feathers - they looked as though they had just had a rather brutal pillow fight. This had caused a bit of a ruckus in the corridors that day once the other students realized that they'd been turning each other into large waddling penguins. They were currently practicing transforming one another into lions, and this meant that many students appeared a little more wild and predatory than they normally did.

Hermione had been the first in the class to successfully turn Ron into a tall red-haired lion. Harry smiled over at them; he thought that Ron looked pretty interesting that way. Harry succeeded in turning Neville into a brown mottled lion on his third attempt. As Neville let out a ferocious roar, Ron took a turn on Hermione. Ron struggled slightly at the start and was beginning to become frustrated when suddenly, after several unsuccessful attempts, a golden lioness sat blinking before him. Harry thought that Hermione was quite lovely as a lioness. Ron apparently thought so, too.

"Brilliant!" Ron exclaimed excitedly, as Hermione, the lioness, continued to stare at him with large liquid brown eyes.

"All right, Mr. Weasley. Let's see you bring Miss Granger back, please," McGonagall said, as she stepped up behind Harry and Ron, observing their progress. Ron said the counter-spell and Hermione was again standing before them.

"Well done, Mr. Weasley. Mr. Longbottom, let's see what you can do," McGonagall instructed, turning towards Harry and Neville.

Neville narrowed his eyes in concentration as he turned his wand on Harry. It took Neville a few tries as the wand movement was substantially more complicated than usual, but at last Harry was transformed into a rather dignified-looking lion with a wild-looking dark mane. Right after Harry had been turned back into himself again, he overheard McGonagall's voice as she leaned over to Neville.

"You're doing much better this year, Longbottom. Keep it up," she whispered, her customarily forceful voice sounding remarkably kind. At such extravagant praise from Professor McGonagall, Neville's face lit up like a Christmas tree, and they all left class later in an exceptionally good mood. As the hours wore on, Neville's spirits were still running high, and Harry happily noticed that Neville had continued to beam brightly at everyone for the whole rest of that day.

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On Sunday, everyone seemed to be dreading their return to the grind of studying and classes the next day, especially Harry and Ginny. Things had been going downhill ever since that morning. Katie had insisted on having Quidditch practice both Saturday and Sunday in preparation for the Quidditch Final, and each of them were frantically trying to catch up on their schoolwork. Harry glanced over at Ginny cautiously; it had unfortunately been a very long day.

It had all started after breakfast when Ginny had spotted a younger student's copy of the Daily Prophet and had innocently asked to see it. Harry had just walked into the room and had only realized after the fact which edition she was being given. Before Harry could figure out how to successfully distract her from the paper, Ginny had already seen the obituary page with Percy's name on it. Ginny's face had abruptly gone pale as she looked up at Harry grimly - the paper still hanging loosely in her hand. Ginny paused for a moment, then gave the paper back to its original owner without uttering another word. After that Ginny had been much quieter than normal, and Harry had been careful to not mention anything about the article for fear of upsetting her.

When it was time for Quidditch practice, Ginny had walked with Harry and Ron down to the pitch, but she merely seemed to be going through the motions instead of concentrating on what she was doing. When they landed an hour later, Ron had eyed his sister warily, but didn't speak to her. He had then mentioned something about prefect duties as he headed back towards the castle - as far as Harry knew, Ron had not seen the obituary thus far. Ginny was moving almost sluggishly as Harry waited for her to catch up to him; she had not spoken more than two words to Harry or anyone else the entire day. She seemed profoundly melancholy and though she wasn't crying, the increased levels of stress and worry could clearly be seen upon her face.

Now as Harry sat watching Ginny throw away her fourth attempt at an essay in utter frustration, he knew that she needed some sort of escape. Harry wanted to cheer her up somehow, and as he tried to think of something that might bring a smile back to her face, he was struck by a previously forgotten inspiration. It was getting dark and the common room was beginning to empty; there was only a few fifth and seventh years left preparing for exams, and Ron and Hermione had not yet returned from patrolling the corridors. Harry hurried up to his dormitory and found Neville, Dean, and Seamus getting ready for bed. Harry dashed over to his trunk and discreetly secreted his father's silvery Invisibility Cloak under his robes. Harry wanted to try and distract Ginny from her current distress - he'd never shown her the cloak up close before and he hoped that maybe he could surprise her. Harry then left as quietly as he could and rejoined Ginny downstairs - she was continuing to look distinctly preoccupied and withdrawn as he reached her once more.

"I think you need to get away for a bit, Ginny. Fancy going on a walk with me?" Harry asked, smiling down at her. Ginny glanced up at him tentatively, then reached out to turn Harry's wrist over and look at his watch.

"Oh, Harry," Ginny began, sighing resignedly. "I'd love to, but it's only a few minutes before curfew."

"Don't worry, no one will see us," Harry said, his grin widening mischievously. Ginny's curiosity appeared to pique as she noticed Harry's expression.

"Well, I guess I really could use a break," she responded somewhat uncertainly, as Harry took her hand and led her through the portrait hole. Harry brought Ginny to a secret passage hidden behind a portrait of an old bald wizard with a bulbous nose wearing lurid green robes. Once there Harry silently handed over the cloak. Ginny's eyes grew wide as she examined it.

"Harry.... This is your Invisibility Cloak, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Harry said, "I've had it since my first Christmas here at Hogwarts. My dad left it with Dumbledore, and he passed it on to me. Ron, Hermione, and I have used it loads of times, and my dad used to use it when he was here at school with Lupin and Sirius, too."

Harry hadn't honestly meant to mention his godfather right then, but his name had just kind of slipped out - Sirius was never very far from Harry's thoughts, even now. Instead of continuing to think about his godfather, though, Harry focused on Ginny. She was holding the cloak as if it were priceless treasure.

"So, you want to try it out?" Harry asked, eagerly.

"Really?" Ginny said in an awed voice.

"Why not? Just remember, though, even if we can't be seen we can still be heard. We'll have to be quiet if we don't want to be caught out of bounds."

Ginny appeared to hesitate for a split second, but then her sense of adventure seemed to override any remaining doubts she may have had. Harry draped the cloak over them both, and then wrapped his arm around her as they snuck out of the castle heading towards the lake. It was a perfectly clear and unusually warm winter night and the moon was shining luminously down on the grounds. Harry led Ginny to the other side of the lake, stepping carefully in the dim light. They stopped, gazing back at the glowing windows of the castle and then out at the rippling dark water and calmly peaceful landscape. For a long time, neither of them spoke. Finally, though, Ginny turned towards him. Harry noticed that her face was looking sad and anxious once again as he peered at her underneath the gauzy fabric of the cloak.

"When something bad happens, Harry, have you ever found yourself wishing that you could just... I don't know - just run away or something?" she asked in a whisper.

"Sometimes," Harry admitted, "but then I remember that Hogwarts is my home. This castle has always felt more like home than Privet Drive, even as bad as things got last year."

"I never would've thought that the Burrow would stop feeling like the safe and happy home it's always been, but now... " Ginny trailed off. Harry turned towards her, pulling off the cloak so that he could see her face more plainly. Ginny fell silent again for a moment but then began to speak disjointedly, her words coming out in a jumbled sort of way. "I was feeling so much better, Harry - I really was. But when I saw that article in the paper this morning - it was almost like... well, like he had just died all over again. I don't know why, but there was something so terrible, so final about seeing Percy's name in print like that." Ginny paused tremulously. Eventually, she asked with a ragged breath, "Does the pain ever truly go away, Harry?"

Harry could see that she was struggling against the same horrible sadness again, and he stood there helplessly for a few minutes, not knowing what to say. At length, however, Harry remembered how he had felt a few months before when Shacklebolt had cleared Sirius' name in the paper. Even though it had been a wonderful and kindhearted gesture, Harry had been struck by the pain the unexpected mention of Sirius had caused him at the time, and he realized that he had to tell Ginny the truth. The last thing Harry wanted to do was hurt her, but he also knew that he couldn't lie to her, especially not about something like this.

"No, Ginny. I wish I could tell you that it does, but I'm afraid it doesn't - not completely anyway," Harry whispered. "As time goes by I find it's not quite as overwhelming as it once was, but it still hurts. I guess it always will."

Ginny simply nodded, then blinkingly turned away, staring straight up into the velvety night. They stood there together for a long time after that, watching the star-filled sky gradually darken as the nearly full moon set below the mountainous horizon. The wind began to pick up rather startlingly then and since it was beginning to get much colder now, they decided to go back inside. Harry threw the cloak over them once more and led Ginny slowly around the perimeter of the lake.

Just as they were retracing their steps back through the darkly shadowed grounds, however, Harry froze. There at the entrance to the castle stood Mad-Eye Moody. Harry's pulse quickened; he knew his magical eye could see right through Invisibility Cloaks. Harry grabbed Ginny and pushed her rapidly behind a tree as Moody turned to gaze in their direction. Harry held his breath; though they were standing behind an enormously thick old oak tree, he wasn't really sure if Moody's roving eye could see them through it or not. If Ginny was surprised by Harry's swift actions, she hid it fairly well. She simply stood next to Harry under the cloak, frowning up at him inquisitively. Moody was still standing nearby. Harry glanced over at Ginny putting a finger to his lips, then nodded towards the castle entrance. After a few moments, Moody turned - someone else was coming towards him. As Harry and Ginny cautiously leaned around the tree, they caught sight of a hooked nose and a curtain of black greasy hair. Both he and Ginny were listening hard; Harry wondered what in the world Snape would be doing going up to Moody in the middle of the night like this, especially when they had always regarded each other with great animosity and mutual dislike any time Harry had seen them together before.

"What is it, Snape?" Moody growled brusquely, a deep scowl twisting his scarred face in the light of the open doorway.

"The Headmaster wishes to see you," Snape replied, just as curtly. A second later, though, Snape's face went slack; he appeared to be wearing the same odd expression he had worn in class shortly after the Christmas holiday. With unmistakable reluctance, Snape then whispered, "I require a leave of absence, and he wishes for you to take my classes whilst I am away."

"Very well, then," said Moody, his electric blue magical eye gleaming strangely as he pinned Snape with a keenly penetrating look. "Tell Dumbledore I'm on my way." Snape immediately disappeared back into the castle at that point, leaving Moody alone in the darkness once more.

Harry raised his eyebrows in shock and amazement. Where would Snape be going in the middle of the term like this? Harry wondered if it had something to do with the Order before he remembered that Snape's mother had been killed recently. Snape had once been a Death Eater, and now Death Eaters had killed his mother. Harry began to wonder if Snape's mother's death had been more than an indiscriminate killing - this certainly seemed to be a peculiar coincidence. Harry then felt a shiver run down his spine, another horrible possibility had just occurred to him... What if Percy's murder hadn't been random, either.

Moody had glanced in Harry and Ginny's direction once more after Snape had reentered the castle, and Harry tried to be perfectly still. At that precise moment, however, another large gust of wind blew Moody's gray grizzled hair and he turned, shivering slightly in the doorway. He then hobbled back into the castle, briefly causing the light inside to shine out across the dark lawn. Once Moody was gone, Harry turned to Ginny. "We'd better get inside before we get caught," he told her, starting forward, but Ginny grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

"What was all of that about between Mad-Eye and Snape, Harry?" she asked.

"I dunno," Harry answered, shrugging. "But we can't risk staying out here any longer, it looks kind of stormy. Besides, Moody can see through this cloak, you know."

"Oh, okay," Ginny acquiesced, as she peered nervously about.

He and Ginny were able to sneak into the castle without being seen, and Harry felt extremely relieved to have once again reached the common room. Harry continued to ponder Snape and Moody's conversation, but he didn't want to bring up his ideas to Ginny, at least not before he had more to go on. Harry now had a sneaking suspicion that the Death Eater's attacks hadn't been left to chance, and he feared what Ginny's reaction would be if she discovered that Voldemort might have an active interest in the rest of her family.

"Listen Ginny, I..." Harry began, he'd been planning to say that he was sorry about nearly being discovered, but upon seeing the expression on her face he stopped mid-sentence. Thankfully, Ginny's mood had apparently lifted. She appeared to be simply puzzled as she regarded Harry thoughtfully - her face was slightly flushed from running around outside and her eyes had lost their deeply troubled look.

"I wonder why Snape is leaving," she said, gazing up into Harry's face.

"Whatever the reason, I'm glad we won't have to put up with him while he's gone," Harry said in a carefully light tone, and Ginny grinned rather sardonically.

"Yeah, me too. I don't know why he has to be so foul and hateful all the time - it's almost like he thinks being a proper teacher means that every student in the class has to hate your guts." Harry smiled at that, and after a moment Ginny yawned. "What time is it, anyway?"

When he looked at his watch, Harry was somewhat startled to find that it was nearly four o'clock. After he told her, Ginny grinned impishly and gave him a quick hug before tiptoeing upstairs. Harry grinned back at her - she didn't seem to mind breaking school rules any more than he did. After Ginny left, Harry decided that the mysterious goings on at Hogwarts were simply going to have to wait. Harry had stayed up late the night before doing homework and had then had a very long and stressful day; he had only had a few hours sleep over the past couple of nights, and he couldn't help yawning now, as well. The adrenaline rush Harry had just experienced at possibly being seen by Moody had drained out of him, and he was suddenly feeling quite tired. As Harry dragged himself upstairs, he decided that he no longer had the energy to worry about the Death Eaters or Snape. In fact, as Harry entered his dormitory and crawled under the soft warmth of Ginny's hand-knitted throw, he dreamt not of clandestine meetings or of the usual horrendous images, but only of the memory of one person, her face smiling happily up into his.