Snakes and Lions

Half-truths and Consequences

Professor McGonagall took Harry's broom and marched him straight to Dumbledore's office. Harry concentrated on walking steadily. When they entered, Dumbledore was talking to Professor Snape. Harry hoped Draco had made it back in time.

"I have him, Dumbledore," Professor McGonagall said.

Dumbledore and Snape both looked at Harry. Harry raised his head and stared back at them.

"Where were you, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

"Hogsmeade," Harry answered defiantly.

Professor Dumbledore shook his head. "No. You don't need a broom to get to Hogsmeade."

"I wanted to fly."

Dumbledore's normally merry eyes flashed angrily. He reached over to Harry and plucked a clod of mud from his jumper. "Designatio!" he snapped, and threw it at his desk.

Harry stared. The top of the desk was currently a map, and the clod swerved to land near the western edge of it. Dumbledore took another scrap of mud from Harry and performed the spell again. He did this five times, marking three places.

"Would you care to revise that statement, Mr. Potter?"

Harry crossed his arms over his chest. "Doesn't look like you need me to," he said.

Snape was watching Harry through narrowed eyes. He had leaned forward so that his hair fell down to either side of his face, making it look longer and more predatory. Slowly, he pulled out his wand, and began to move it very slightly, whispering to himself.

"May I suggest, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore snapped, "that this will be easier if you cooperate?"

Harry stared back at the headmaster with every ounce of insolence he could muster. He did not answer.

"May I suggest, headmaster," Snape said dryly, "that Mr. Potter might be more cooperative were he sober?"

Dumbledore twitched, then looked more carefully at Harry. Harry attempted to step back, but Professor McGonagall was behind him. He teetered awkwardly as he attempted to shift forward again.

"Mr. Potter is a capable -- in fact, exemplary -- flier," Snape noted. "Either he has taken a liking to half-frozen natural mud baths, or something caused him to crash, not once, but three times," Snape, with a sneer, gestured at the map -- "over a course of seven miles. Furthermore, while he is arrogant, he is not usually stupid, nor unsteady on his feet."

Dumbledore drew his wand. Harry, suddenly frightened, lurched to the side, but the spell hit him anyway. "Fi Sobrium!"

Harry's head cleared painfully. Everything looked so sharp that he felt he might be cut if he moved. Involuntarily, he let out an obscene, if imprecise, exclamation.

"It can be a bit shocking," Dumbledore said dryly. "One does not usually go from there to here all at one jump."

Harry let go of the bookcase he had grabbed when he lost his balance and turned. "Sorry, sir."

"If you are apologizing for your language, I accept the apology. Now then -- where have you been?"

Harry swallowed. "In a Muggle town about fifteen minutes flight -- usually -- west of here. I don't know the name of it. It took me about an hour to get back, I think. Though it could have been more. Or less. I passed out one of the times I crashed."

"Why were you in this Muggle town?"

Harry evaluated how much truth to use. A good deal, he decided. No telling what else they could check.

"Draco and I wanted more cognac. He was going to come with me, but decided he was too worried about Herbology, so he stayed to study. We could have gone next week, but I decided to go alone."

"You have done this before, then?"

"Twice."

"Did you fly out there in the daylight?"

"No. I flew part of the way -- near Hogsmeade -- then walked to the road and took the bus. I decided that was too long to do twice, so I flew up into a church steeple, using the invisibility cloak, and was going to hang out there until dark, then fly back, but I lost track of time, and was still too drunk when it went dark. But then I saw the Dark Mark and knew I needed to fly back anyway."

"Whereupon you crashed several times," McGonagall observed. Harry nodded.

"You could have killed yourself, Potter!" she raged.

"I know. But if I'd stayed, I would have seen something, and then I would have gotten killed trying to help someone, and probably have failed to help them, anyway." Harry yawned. "I should learn that spell."

"You cannot cast that spell, drunk."

"Oh. Teach it to Draco, then. He's usually with me, and never gets really drunk. He hates losing control."

"Potter," Snape said, in his most condescending tone, "the utter stupidity of you, of all people, leaving the school to get drunk with Draco Malfoy astounds me."

"I didn't leave the school to get drunk with Draco. Draco wasn't even with me. I was just looking for a way to kill four or five hours, today, and he wasn't even there to talk to."

Dumbledore glared frighteningly at Harry, then turned to McGonagall. ""Stay here with him a moment. I must go tell his godfather he's alive."

"Albus --"

"No, Minerva. I am too angry to continue with this, right now. I will be back in two or three minutes." Dumbledore looked at Snape. "And you may leave, Severus. When I am finished here, I will come to your apartments for the rest of your report."

Snape nodded tightly, then, with an odd look at Harry, whirled and left the room. Dumbledore went the other way, further in from his office. Harry tried to decide what Snape's expression had been. He would have expected a satisfied sneer, but although the expression had been contemptuous, it had looked almost regretful. Harry wondered if Snape were starting to like him, just in time to see him expelled.

McGonagall fumed in silence. Several times she turned and looked as if she were about to speak, then did not. Harry was glad he had not brought Susara with him.

Much more than three minutes later, Professor Dumbledore returned. He walked directly over to Harry.

"First, Mr. Potter, let me say I am extremely disappointed in you. You have admitted to two things for which we usually expel students -- leaving the grounds, especially beyond Hogwarts, and flying drunk. Furthermore, it is obvious from other parts of your story -- and I do not want details, please -- that you have been interfering with these Muggles in some way.

"I will not permit Professor McGonagall to expel you, because I do not believe you would survive outside of this school. I am quite likely, however, to agree to any other punishment she devises. Is that clear?"

Harry nodded numbly. "Yes, sir."

He was wondering what else to say, when Sirius stumbled out of the fireplace. Harry started to move towards him, but the look on Sirius's face stopped him.

"You idiotic child!" Sirius roared, stalking towards Harry. "Could you devise a better plan to kill yourself?"

"I didn't know there'd be a Death Eater attack --"

"You know Lestrange is out to kill you!"

"Why would she notice I'm in --"

Sirius grabbed Harry under the chin. Harry froze automatically. Sirius glowered. "Remus has a message for you," he snarled.

Harry drew himself up and glared back at Sirius. The hold loosened. His godfather no longer towered over him, he noticed, though he still had considerably more bulk than Harry.

"Let me guess," Harry clipped. "I'm still a selfish, thoughtless child who would rather have a good time than live."

Sirius, with harsh satisfaction, let go of Harry and nodded. Harry felt a rush of anger sweep through him. "Well, you tell Remus --" he spoke his former professor's first name with relish -- "this. I am never not going to have people seriously trying to kill me. I am not going to live as long as my ill-fated father. If I'm good and cautious --" Harry spat the words -- "I may make it to graduation, but then I leave here, and that will be it -- no Dumbledore to protect me, and no amount of life is worth returning to the Dursleys. He may not like what I do with my life, but this is all I've got, and it's not much, and I don't care what he thinks of me."

Harry could tell he was going to start repeating himself, and made himself stop. Sirius was staring at him in wide-eyed shock. Harry realized that his anger had been replaced by trembling, and he was desperate to escape before Sirius started looking sorry for him.

"I'm going to bed. When you decide what you're doing to me, let me know."

To Harry's surprise, no one stopped him from leaving. He walked back to Gryffindor Tower. He ignored the people in the common room, and went directly up to the sixth-years' dormitory. The room was dark and empty. Harry stood by the window staring out at the dark night. Behind him, the door opened. A shape was silhouetted against the light from the stairs.

"You alright?" Ron asked.

"I'm not being expelled, if that's what you mean," Harry said coldly. He glared at Ron's dark form. "So did you rat me out, or was it Miss Prefect?"

Ron was silent for several seconds. When he spoke, his voice shook with anger. "Everybody was sent back to their Houses, and McGonagall came and counted us. You weren't here."

"Oh." Harry suddenly felt exhausted. "Sorry, then."

Ron didn't reply. He stepped back and closed the door. Harry took off his shoes, robe, and trousers, and crawled into bed without undressing further or finding pajamas. His dreams were haunted by the Dark Mark.

Harry woke up early, with his head itching from the dried mud in his hair. Quietly, he got up. After a shower, he put on some clean clothes and went and sat at the window. He heard some stirring behind him, but did not look. After a few minutes, Seamus tiptoed over, still in his pajamas, and sat next to him. Harry ignored him.

"So," Seamus said, after an awkward silence, "you finally got caught, did you?"

"Yeah. Couldn't have been a worse night, either."

"I heard McGonagall tell Hermione that you couldn't be in the castle, or Dumbledore would have been able to locate you. They were frantic."

"I was in a Muggle town."

"Not the one that got attacked?"

"Yeah."

"Did you see any of it?"

"No. I saw the Dark Mark and flew back."

Seamus was silent for a minute.

"I heard that the attack had been going on for a bit when they sent us to our Houses."

Harry shrugged. "I was drunk. I crashed a few times."

Seamus gave a low whistle. "Good Lord, Harry, it's a wonder they didn't expel you!"

"It's a wonder I didn't kill myself," Harry replied. "And Dumbledore said he would expel me if he thought I'd survive it." Harry chuckled. "There's something to make me look forward to graduating."

"Maybe he's trying to manipulate you into staying to teach."

"Go on! What could I teach?"

Seamus's mouth quirked. "Why, Defense Against the Dark Arts, of course. You have practical qualifications."

Harry actually laughed. "But that only gains me a year."

Harry went down to breakfast as soon as the others began to stir. He had time to have a few bites of sausage and a slice of toast before Professor McGonagall entered. She glared at him, but sat down at her usual place at the staff table. Hermione and Ron entered together, a few minutes later, and McGonagall immediately walked down to the Gryffindor table.

"Mr. Potter," she said, "you are to come to my office. Miss Granger, I require you, as Gryffindor prefect, there as well. You may bring your plate."

Harry was certain the last remark was directed only to Hermione, so he left the rest of his breakfast. They followed McGonagall from the hall and up the stairs to her office. Once there, she motioned Harry to a chair in front of her desk, and Hermione to another by the wall.

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall said severely, "By all rights, you should be expelled. Much as it would pain me to do that, it also pains me to show you undue leniency. The following conditions, therefore, are intended to be severe, as well as to substitute for the good sense and responsibility you are apparently entirely lacking."

Harry didn't think he could reasonably argue with this. He looked down, and found he had to swallow; he seemed to have a rather large lump in his throat.

"First, since you will not restrict yourself to permissible uses of it, I am taking away your broom."

Harry looked up, shocked. "Quidditch!" he croaked. The sound of it vaguely reminded him of Oliver Wood, during Wood's last year.

"You may fly your broom -- supervised -- during scheduled practices and games. The rest of the time, it will be kept in the changing rooms at the pitch, very well secured.

"Second, since you do not respect school rules as to where you may go and not go, you may not leave Gryffindor tower unsupervised. Miss Granger, this is why you are here. I am afraid I require you to escort Mr. Potter to and from his classes and meals. You may defer this duty to any staff member, or any other prefect except Draco Malfoy. Mr. Potter, you may also go to the library, if Miss Granger agrees to take you, but she is not required to do so. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded. Since McGonagall continued to stare at him, he added, "Yes. I understand.'

"Third, I am told you have an invisibility cloak. You will give that to me for safekeeping, to ensure you do not use it to violate these restrictions."

Harry took a deep breath. "I can't," he confessed.

"You cannot?"

"I lost it."

McGonagall yelled "What?" and Hermione exclaimed "Harry!"

"One of the times I crashed," Harry said. It was easy to sound miserable about it, as he was genuinely unsure he would ever get the cloak back from Draco.

"You what?" Hermione interrupted.

"I don't know when. It wasn't until I got back to the school and went to settle it for going up to Gryffindor tower that I realized it was missing."

"Mr. Potter ..."

"Honestly, if I had my cloak, don't you think I'd have worn it?"

"What is going on?!" Hermione exclaimed. She looked wildly at the two of them. "What did Harry do?"

Harry looked down.

"Harry?" Professor McGonagall prodded. "Please tell Miss Granger what you did."

Harry didn't look up. "I went into a Muggle town, alone, because Draco was busy, got cognac, drank three and a half -- I think, maybe it was four and a half -- largish glasses of it, and flew back here anyway, because I saw the Dark Mark."

"And you have done this before?" McGonagall prompted.

"Going into the town, yes. Twice. In neither case was I drunk."

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. "People are trying to kill you!"

"People are always trying to kill me," Harry said wearily. He looked up and focused on Professor McGonagall. He tried to keep his voice and expression neutral. "For how long?"

"We have not decided. It may be until the end of the year."

"That's nearly four months!"

"I can read a calendar, Mr. Potter." McGonagall stood. "You may leave, now. Miss Granger, please come see me this evening, after dinner."

Out in the hallway, Hermione exploded. "Harry, that was the stupidest thing I have ever heard!"

"I know."

"What were you doing in a Muggle town, anyway?"

"This time I was buying cognac --"

"You can't buy liquor. You're too young."

"Aging potion."

Hermione sighed loudly. "And the previous times?"

"I was with Draco. Once to ... buy some things, and once to steal the sign we put on Professor Snape's door."

"That was you?!" Hermione's mouth quirked, and for a moment, she looked less severe. "Buy what things?"

"Muggle stuff."

"Draco wanted Muggle stuff?"

"Well, it was my idea. So was the sign."

"It was still mad! And your cloak! Do you have any idea how rare and valuable invisibility cloaks are? That's irreplaceable!"

"I know. Draco wants one frightfully, now, and his father said, 'if I ever found an invisibility cloak available, I would have better things to do with it than give it to a spoiled little boy as a plaything.' Which I thought was a bit rich. I mean, on a list of people responsible for spoiling Draco, Lucius has to be tops." Harry sighed. "Dumbledore knows where I crashed. Maybe he'll find it, and give it back to me before I leave."

It was a very long, very dull, Sunday. Throughout it, Harry worried about whether or not Dumbledore would speak to Draco about their previous activities. He hoped it would be left up to Snape, who might gloss over the matter. He spent the time alone. Hermione was avoiding him. Ron had left for the weekend, to meet Charlie, who was staying with their mother during a Dragon Predation Conference in Glasgow. Harry couldn't decide if his presence would have made things better or worse.

In Transfiguration, Monday, Harry sat down next to Draco.

"I'm in serious trouble," he said. "They --"

"Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said clearly. "I think it is high time you and Mr. Malfoy were separated. You will sit with Dean Thomas."

"But --"

"No buts, Mr. Potter. Now."

Next to Dean, who glowered at him, Harry took out his white notebook, and considered how best to convey the needed information to Draco. Since Dean might notice the entries and report him, he decided he should be circumspect. Whatever he wrote must not provide any more information than was already known. Smiling slightly, Harry began to write.

He had gotten most of it down when he became aware of something next to his desk. He looked over and saw Professor McGonagall

"What is this?" To Harry's horror, she reached down and took the notebook.

"My notebook, Professor," Harry replied, glad that his instructions to Draco were finely couched.

McGonagall peered at him over her glasses and hrumphed. "How odd, Mr. Potter. Your notebook seems to contain two distinct types of handwriting." Harry did not respond. McGonagall looked back at the notebook. "This first one -- very elegant, Potter, hardly like your chicken scratches -- says 'What trouble?' Here's your writing: 'I got caught coming in. I flew back when I saw the Dark Mark, though I was far too drunk, and McG. caught me. I told them almost everything: that I was getting cognac, that you had been going to go with me, but had to revise for Herbology; and that we've done this before. Sorry to give so much away, but I was afraid you would say the wrong thing if I lied, and then we'd be in more trouble.'" Professor McGonagall looked suspiciously at Harry, who kept his face carefully blank. "Then there's this elegant writing again, on the other side. It reminds me rather of Mr. Malfoy's script. 'That's all right. What else could I expect of a Gryffindor? And you're right not to improvise when you couldn't get me word, but they haven't asked me yet. What did you tell them about last time?' Yours again: 'Just that we went to the same place twice before.'" McGonagall glared across the room at Draco, then down at Harry.

"This is a Liber Geminus, Mr. Potter. Twenty points each from Gryffindor and Slytherin for illicit communications in class." Professor McGonagall walked back behind her desk, still holding the notebook. Harry watched her nervously. Fulfilling his worst fears, she said:

"And what did happen 'last time'? Perhaps we can find the entry."

"Professor," Harry said urgently. "Please don't read that in class."

"It was written in my class, Mr. Potter."

"Only bits. And it has information not everyone should know."

Professor McGonagall, after a severe look at Harry, resumed flipping through the pages.

"Ah! 'The Dark Lord,'" she read. "Well, let's see what Mr. Malfoy has to say about You-Know-Who ..."

Harry glanced over at Draco. The blond had his copy of the book pushed forward on the desk, and he was unobtrusively, with his hand still flat on the desk, pointing his wand at it. Harry saw him mouth an incantation. Suddenly, both books burst into flame. With a startled shriek, Professor McGonagall dropped the one she held on the floor, then, recovering, reached for the glass of water she kept on her desk. Yelling, Harry rose from his chair and kicked the book clear of her, over towards Malfoy. Malfoy pointed his wand again, and the flames leapt higher, engulfing both books and singeing floor and desk.

"You utter idiot!" Harry screamed at McGonagall.

Everyone, including Harry, fell silent. Harry could hear the scritch of claws as someone's rat moved across a desk. He stared at the Transfiguration professor in horror, as what he had just said sunk in. McGonagall cleared her throat.

"Everyone is to stay here and practice their assignment. I am leaving Miss Granger in charge. Anyone she informs me was uncooperative will come to regret it. Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy -- with me, please."

She led them, as Harry had rather hoped she would, to Dumbledore's office. Furthermore, she did not attempt to speak. Her first words were "Canary Cream" and then they were riding the spiral staircase up into Dumbledore's office.

Professor Dumbledore looked unusually displeased to see them.

"So soon, Mr. Potter? I think you have broken the Weasley twin's record."

"Don't encourage him, Dumbledore. These ... children created a Liber Geminus and were using it to exchange messages in my class."

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose. "A Liber Geminus? Much as I hate to say it, Minerva, I am impressed."

"Impressed! When I attempted to read this book, Mr. Malfoy set it on fire, Mr. Potter kicked it away from me, and then he had the audacity to call me an idiot --"

"We let her read the bit we wrote in class, sir. She was recklessly endangering people reading something --"

"If they are going to --"

"-- we'd written about Voldemort—"

"Quiet, Minerva!"

McGonagall, reluctantly, fell silent. Harry waited quietly. The headmaster looked anxiously at him. "What had you written about Voldemort, Harry?"

"That's not the point! Draco asked me a question about Voldemort. I answered it. Can you think of anything that fits that which doesn't lead to people trying to kill at least one of us, and maybe other students that they hadn't known were Death Eaters' children, or --" Harry broke off. He was shaking.

Professor Dumbledore looked at Draco, who seemed even paler than usual. "Mr. Malfoy?"

"Simply that I asked a question, sir, would be enough to endanger me. I am not supposed to ask questions about the Dark Lord. Fortunately, I managed to cast Incendio before Professor McGonagall did more than note that the entry concerned You-Know-Who."

Dumbledore looked disapprovingly at Professor McGonagall, whose eyes had widened in understanding of Harry and Draco's reaction. "And now we do not have this book," he observed.

"Which contained all our Transfiguration notes, and all our Potions notes," Draco complained. "And some of Charms. I'll never be able to pass them!"

The headmaster sighed. "Minerva," he said, "Please escort these boys back to class, then return to see me privately. And Mr. Malfoy, please come see me at lunchtime. I will try to brief enough that we can both get some food."