Harry Potter and the School for Wizards

"Harry, could I speak with you for a few minutes?" Headmaster Dumbledore stood outside Harry's office. Harry waved him in, and offered him some Every Flavor Beans from his desk drawer. He kept two bowls of the stuff - one inside a drawer, that he was fairly sure of, and another on top of his desk, as a temptation for those here for detention.

"What can I do for you Headmaster?"

Albus looked uncomfortable. "I hope you understand, Harry, that I normally do not involve myself in the way that my teachers perform their duties."

Harry nodded his head. He was fairly sure of what Albus was going to ask of him.

"I have spoken many times in the past about the need for school unity. I know that it seemed more necessary after Valdemort's return than it may today, but I still believe that it's important."

Harry felt hurt that Dumbledore would feel the need to use such a transparent excuse. "Headmaster, I know why you're here."

"You do," Albus looked at him over his glasses, but didn't look truly surprised.

"Yes, and I must say, I'm sorry that you couldn't just come out and talk to me about it. I mean, I know Snape and McGonagall have been Professors here for a long time, but I'd rather not be left out of the discussions."

"I believe that both of them have attempted to discuss this with you, and they've found you less than receptive."

Now, Harry felt stupid. "I guess that's what they were trying to discuss, before. I guess our conversations never got to that point. I kept thinking I knew what they were going to say, so I didn't let them say it. I'm sorry, Headmaster, it won't happen again."

Albus nodded. "So you will consider your actions, then, more carefully?"

Harry emphatically agreed. "Of course, Professor. I don't want to let Hogwarts be hurt. I don't think I have the strength to handle another Valdemort."

"Nor do I, Harry, nor do I," Albus excused himself, and Harry saw a look of sad resignation on his face, but he wasn't sure what that was about.

Harry's classes mellowed out, to the surprise and gratitude of all. He was still rougher on Slytherins then on the other houses, but he generally confined his punishments to verbal abuse and house points. To those that had been spending the last few weeks under the agony of curses, this was a breath of freedom, and few complained about being singled out anymore. After all, losing five points paled in comparison with a detention cleaning out Skrewt cages.

Harry noticed that Madam Pomfrey had started requesting students to come for school physicals, and he hoped that she would find the culprits soon. In the meantime, he had started searching for details on Influensus, hoping that he'd be able to contribute something.

Gathering books together, he brought them to his office, and sent a note asking Ginny if she'd like to come by to help out.

Ginny showed up after her classes of the day. She looked haggard, and her books were stained with something green and slimy.

"Are you alright, Ginny?"

"I've been better. There was another caldron explosion in Potions, and Professor Snape had me clean it up, because I was at the next table and could have somehow prevented it."

"Snape. To think I once felt sorry for that bastard."

"Sorry, for him?"

Harry nodded. "Hard to believe, I know. But -- in school, he was sweet on my Mom. And my father...he treated him like dirt." Harry didn't talk about his parents much, and he didn't think he'd ever said anything this negative about them before, especially not to Ginny. He hadn't said much to anyone lately, though, and in his thirst for some kind of companionship, he was saying more than he meant to. "I saw it in Snape's Pensieve, once - the way he treated him, like he was something less than human. And it wasn't because he knew Snape, he'd never had a class with him, or had to clean up a caldron for him, he just didn't like the way he looked or sounded or something. When I saw that...I almost threw up."

"Did you talk to Snape about it?"

"No - but he caught me at his Pensieve, and he threw me out. That's when..." he'd already spilled enough secrets, might as well spill them all. "That's when I stopped taking Occulmancy lessons from him."

"Oh." Ginny's face was white - she knew what that had done, but he needed to say it anyway.

"That's why Sirius died - because I saw something in his Pensieve. You know what the worst thing is, Ginny?"

She shook her head.

"I didn't realize it then, but that day, I lost both my godfather, and my real father. I'd always built up this image of my father, as someone perfect, like a knight in shining armor. After I met your Dad, I guess I'd hoped that mine would be like him." Ginny's eyes shone, whether at the complement, or with sadness over the whole subject. "After the Pensieve, though, when I think of him, it's of him talking to Snape. I can't see him anymore - my father, I mean. I don't know which image of him to hold onto. I can't...I don't." The emotionless facade that Harry normally kept up started to crumble, and Ginny looked hopeful for a moment, but then it slid back into place.

Harry abruptly picked up a book, and gave it to Ginny. "Here - this looks like a good place to start looking at the curse details. Its on distinguishing marks left by Dark Magic - it should give us an idea of what to look for. I'll read up on the effects of the curse."

Ginny took the book, and nodded, beginning to read. Then she stopped, and looked back to him. "You know, Harry, its possible that all of those images are right."

"How can they be, Ginny? How could someone be so judgmental, so evil to people who've never done anything to them, and also be so good, so accepting, and so just? That'd be like having your father and Snape be the same person - it can't happen."

Ginny was softly crying, now, but Harry didn't comment. She answered very softly, though. "It can happen, Harry. People...people hold too many possibilities inside themselves to be just one image forever. Even when he was doing...whatever he was doing to Snape...your father still had good inside him. You've talked before about seeing his image from the wand...about hearing him when you're near Dementors. If you want to know who your father was, think about the best in him, and be proud that it overcame the worst."

"Do you really think that such extremes can exist in one person?"

"I'm sure of it, Harry. I'm sure of it." Neither one of them said much to each other for the rest of the afternoon, except for a few words when one or the other would find information.

Ginny was the first to find what would distinguish someone under the curse - it was a small tattoo, that would be in the small of their back. The tattoo would disappear when the wielder was the target of a curse spell, though, or if they cast anything significant. While the tattoo was gone, they didn't even remember having been under the curse, and they couldn't be controlled by it.

Harry found something more interesting, at least to him, although Ginny didn't seem to attach as much significance to it. "Ginny, look at this. In order for someone to be subject to Influensus, they have to trust the person casting it on them. Its almost always a parent or guardian that casts the spell." He was sure that the subject had to be a Slytherin - they would have to have come from a family with magical parents, where the parents followed the Dark Lord. That sounded like most of the Slytherins he'd met, although admittedly he hadn't talked to many of them.

~.~.~

Harry walked to his first class of the day, with a spring in his step. His talk with Ginny last night, however brief, had brought back something he'd missed. She hadn't been one of the Trio, but she could have been.

He still missed Hermione every day, still wondered why she'd left to go back to London so precipitously, and why he hadn't heard from her. He'd sent a few owls, with truly awful letters that didn't say anything of any use, but she hadn't written him back yet. He would have been worried, but he figured that maybe she was just giving him a dose of his own medicine.

He heard arguing from a side passage, and stopped for a moment. He should probably leave this sort of thing to a prefect...but he saw that one of the two that was arguing was a Slytherin, and felt compelled to lend a hand on the other's side.

It was Falco Van Hoek, heatedly discussing something with Roland Weston. Falco's face was flushed, veins protruding from his young forehead. Roland looked frightened, and his face lit up with relief when he saw Harry.

"What's all this, then," Harry asked, staring down at Falco.

Falco suddenly calmed down, his face becoming quite pale in a matter of moments. "Nothing, Professor."

"Don't lie to a staff member. Five points from Slytherin. Be along, now."

Falco looked almost hurt, but he turned and ran away.

Roland's relief was evident. He reminded Harry of Ron in a way - lanky, a little awkward. His hair was auburn, not the bright red of a Weasley, but he had a similar goofy grin at the moment. It really brought Harry back.

"Thanks, Professor. I mean, it really wasn't important enough to need your attention, but thanks for helping, anyway."

"No problem, Mr. Weston. Go along to class now, and try not to wind up alone with a Slytherin - you never know what they'll do."

"Thanks, Professor," Roland spoke, then paused. "I'm supposed to see Madam Pomfrey this afternoon for an examination, but I was really hoping to make it to your talk on Cornish Pixies."

Harry figured Pomfrey was just going through all the students to make it look fair, but he couldn't picture Roland as a Muggle-hating Dark Wizard. He was a Gryffindor, after all. "All right, I'll send Poppy a note. Don't worry about it - and don't be late to class!"

In his class for the first years that afternoon, Slytherin lost a total of almost fifty points - he took ten off for Falco's sulking in the corner, and went from there. He had first thought of Falco as another Draco, but he'd started to notice some subtle differences. Falco, like Draco, had started strong, confidently expressing his opinions when given the opportunity. Over time, though, he'd started to speak less, and now he seemed to spend every class sulking in the back, giving as little feedback as possible. Maybe his work was doing some good - if people like Van Hoek would end up thinking before they spoke, not considering themselves Merlin's gift to wizardry anywhere, then maybe Slytherins could take a proper place in the world.

~.~.~

Harry was still thinking about the results of his class, a smirk on his face, as he entered the staff meeting. He wasn't the last to arrive - that was generally Sprout. They'd given up on Firenze attending, but Dumbledore didn't seem to mind.

He seemed agitated today, though, and once Sprout came in, he called the meeting immediately to order. "Thank you all for coming - I only wish it could be under different circumstances."

Harry looked at him questioningly, but McGonagall and Snape didn't look surprised. Of course, Albus still trusted his old crowd the best. Harry might have defeated Valdemort, he might be a professor at Hogwarts, but he would always be "Mr. Potter", a young man on the outside of grown-up business.

"Have all of you heard of the Orpheus curse," Dumbledore asked his staff.

Harry, like Sprout and Vector, shook his head. Snape didn't show any reaction, but McGonagall nodded.

"Its a terrible curse, which causes a great deal of pain to the recipient. It can even cause death, although immediate, competent, care reduces the chances of this occurring. Some of you may have noticed that Mister Dertrihs was missing from classes yesterday. He was a victim of the curse, and he's currently at death's doorway, even under Pomfrey's care. We can only hope that he will recover."

"He is not the only victim. Selena Soong, Dennis Creevey, and Thomas Teawiddy have also been affected. Mr. Creevey is the only one of these latter students still in the Hospital Ward, but the others still suffered great pains."

"We have known for some time that there was a danger at Hogwarts this year, and that the danger might involve the Orpheus curse. We thought that we knew who would be most subject to this curse, and we had taken some rather extreme steps to prevent its harming them. We don't know who is responsible for this, but we will take steps immediately to safeguard the rest of the students. Effective immediately, all students will be escorted to and from classes by a professor, and all students should go around in groups of odd-numbers - at least three to a group."

"Why three, Headmaster?" Harry asked.

Snape looked down his nose at Harry. "I'm surprised that our new Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts has to ask. Headmaster, I'd also suggest that we consider closing off the Astronomy Tower."

The Headmaster cut off Harry's retort. "You have often asked that, Professor Snape - although I can remember you thinking quite differently when you were a student! But, in this case, you may be right. Professor Flitwick, please see to it immediately following this meeting." Then he turned to Harry, "As to why you would not have heard of it before...the Orpheus curse was never used by Valdemort - it was not something that he could comprehend. There are few people who know of its power in this generation, which is something we should be thankful for, not regret. That's all I have for today, Professors - please pass this news along to your students. Harry, could I see you for a moment?"

"Yes, Headmaster?"

Albus waited until everyone else had filtered out, and then fixed his gaze onto Harry. "I understand that you and Miss Weasley have been spending some time together recently."

Harry instantly felt guilty, although he wasn't sure why. "Yes, Headmaster?"

"Some might get the wrong impression out of these meetings. From now on, I don't want you to meet with her without at least one other present, from another house. You are not to inform either of them of the Orpheus curse, or even to mention it by name. She is not subject to the curse right now, if my suspicions are correct, and as such, there is no point in worrying her."

"Yes, Headmaster." Harry hung his head, still not quite sure why he felt guilty.

"That will be all for now, Harry."

~.~.~

Harry's sleep that night was again interrupted by nightmares. He had the same one several times a night, now, although the faces kept changing. Draco was replaced by Lucius sometimes, and Ron was sometimes replaced by Hermione, other times Ginny.

He continued to meet with Ginny to discuss the Influensus curse, and he wasn't sure if he should bring up the Orpheus curse, despite the Headmaster's instruction. They had to meet with someone from another house present, so Ginny had asked Rahne Rawlins, who mostly sat in the corner with a book, pretending to be part of the furniture.

They didn't just talk about the curse; Harry found himself starting to open up to Ginny. He surprised himself at some of the things they talked about - topics like his feelings, how much he envied her family, and what was going on in the Muggle world. Ginny had been on one of Alicia's field trips, and from the sounds of things, the last few years had seen a few major changes from what Harry remembered.

Ginny had brought back some magazines with her, and they both flipped through them together, laughing at what Muggles had been up to lately. Harry found himself starting to heal, and even the anger that was at the core of his being started to relax.

There were no more attacks on students - whatever the reasons behind them, the Headmaster's restrictions seemed to have worked, but there was still a depressed feeling throughout the school. The Halloween Ball was cancelled, although there were threats of a Valentine's Ball to come. Harry dreaded it, for some reason, although he wasn't sure why. Perhaps it was because little good had ever come of Balls at Hogwarts. He was considering this, as Ginny started to ask him a question. She looked shy, not meeting his eyes.

"Harry," she started out hesitantly, and waited until he asked her to go on. "Have you...that is, do you...can teachers take an escort to the Valentine's Ball?"

"I suppose we could, Ginny. But I'm not sure who to ask. Maybe if Hermione was still around, I'd ask her to go, just as friends, I mean. But I haven't heard from her since I started the year. I was starting to get worried, but McGonagall said that she'd seen her a few times, and she was fine."

"Really," Ginny said, disappointment in her voice. She couldn't have expected him to ask her, could she? Harry knew he couldn't ask a student to the ball - even if she was close to his own age, he was sure there was a rule against it. What had she thought he'd say? She'd perked up when he started to talk, then looked down again - was she just as sad as he was that 'Mione wasn't there for them?

She hadn't said anything yet, so he just kept talking, almost babbling. "Its really too bad she couldn't be here - I mean, there are just too many things to look for."

"Like what, Harry? I think we've done pretty well together." The third person in the room put down her book, and started to stare, but Harry ignored her.

"I know, but there's things that I hadn't wanted to ask you to get involved with. I mean, you're great at research, but you've still got your other schoolwork to do." She almost looked mollified, but he continued. "For example, there's this Orpheus curse, its supposed to be pretty tough, that someone's using."

Ginny stood up, her face ashen. "Orpheus?"

"Yes, that's what I said. I wasn't supposed to mention it to you, though."

"Why?"

"The Headmaster said that he knew we were talking, but I wasn't supposed to bring it up. He said you couldn't be affected anyway, so I shouldn't worry you." Ginny was still white as a sheet, and her fists were clenched.

There was a horrified expression on Rahne's face, and she jumped for Ginny. "Ginny, dear, I think I should get you back to your dormitory. Don't come on our account, Professor Potter, we'll be fine. I can't be hurt by that curse, either."

They rushed out, and Harry reflected on the oddness of it all. All he was sure of was that another Hogwart's Ball had claimed him as a victim.

The Valentine's Ball was curiously set up. Apparently, Snape and Filch had been charged with the decorations - which Harry would have guessed in a minute. They were dark and depressing, black, with only hints of maroon. The theme was either unrequited love or tragic love stories, or both. Decorations showed the story of Romeo and Juliet, focusing on the death scene at the end, and of Arthur and Gwenhwyvar, with her running off with Lancelot, only to be discarded and join a convent. Unlike many of the other balls, there was no lower age restriction on this one - apparently, the teachers didn't want to have the students divided into too many places.

The Ball suited Harry's mood. He hadn't seen Ginny in weeks, and he felt once again abandoned by his friends. He had tried to discuss the situation with the Headmaster, but Albus just shook his head. "I was afraid it would come to that, Mr. Potter. I must remind you that, had you not brought up the Curse, she most likely would not have run off. I did warn you for a reason." So, he was 'Mr. Potter' again, and subject once again to a lecture from the Headmaster. Would he ever be an adult in Albus Dumbledore's eyes? Or his own?

So it was a withdrawn, pale, Harry Potter who reluctantly attended the Ball, mostly keeping to himself and staying near his assigned table, talking with a bunch of Gryffindor first years. He had seen Ginny, but she didn't seem to have a date - she was staying close to Rahne Rawlins. She met his eyes a few times, only to look away.

"Did you and Miss Weasley have a little falling out, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked from behind him, obviously noting the exchanged glances. At his words, most of the Gryffindors scattered. Roland Weston, though, stayed behind. He looked up at Snape.

"Why can't you just leave him alone?" the boy glared up at Snape. "He doesn't need to see any of your kind, here."

Snape's eyes started to bulge out, and Harry knew that there was impending bloodshed. And so, with regret..."10 points from Gryffindor, Mister Weston." Roland looked astounded, and turned away, stomping off.

Snape's anger turned to shock. "Why, Mr. Potter, I didn't think I would ever hear those words from you."

"You may never again, Snape, so you might as well cherish the memory."

"I will. I believe this one will have to go in my Pensieve, as otherwise no one will ever believe it."

Harry's glass broke in his hands, splattering pumpkin juice down his front.

"If you'll excuse me, Professor Snape, I believe I need to go change."

"Of course," Snape's toothy smile was one of victory, while Harry's haunted look was definitely one of retreat.

Harry stalked off towards his room, and he didn't notice if anyone watched him doing so, nor did he care. He had attended because Dumbledore required it of him - if he had possessed any choice in the matter, he would have remained in his quarters.

He quickly changed, leaving the orange-stained robes for the House Elves. He could have just spelled them clean himself, but this was too good an excuse to pass up. He took his time changing into different robes - every moment that he wasn't there was worth savoring.

He wasn't sure why the Ball hurt so much. Maybe it was because he'd never actually gone with someone he cared about. There had been some who were attractive, or who were moderately fun to be with, but the people he cared about were always with someone else.

Harry paced in front of the mantle. Pictures lined it, the legacy of Colin Creevey. He saw pictures of the trio, as well as Ginny, with their escorts at the previous balls. He had also left a few awards there - ones that seemed pretentious to have kept, but that he hadn't felt ready to discard. The small crystal globes reminded him of Trelawney, and also of the Hall of Mysteries, and he felt that had he discarded them, it would have been running away. The wand of Valdemort - that, he had considered incinerating, or breaking in two, or perhaps making a nice umbrella from it, but instead, he had just left it on the mantle to remind him that the crusade of his youth was over. His youth here at Hogwarts - reminiscing about that brought him back to what he'd avoided thinking about until now.

Did it mean something that Ginny didn't have a date? When she'd asked him if he had one...did she think that he would ask her, even though he was faculty? No one else treated him as a Professor - had she just forgotten? He knew that she had dated most of the other Gryffindor men over the years, since she'd given up on him in her fourth year, but she hadn't spent any time with anyone this year, that he knew about.

She had looked great down there tonight. It was almost shocking to him, almost as much of a shock as seeing Hermione back in their fourth year. But there were differences, too - Hermione had rejected him, while Ginny seemed to be back to fancying him.

He wasn't sure what to make of all this. And he wasn't sure he'd have the chance, either. There was a knock on the door, but when he got up to get it, he was suddenly bashed in the back of the head. "Pig?" Ginny's tiny owl, inherited from Ron, had hit him in the skull, and then dropped its payload. It wavered a little, and then headed off, not waiting for a treat. He numbly picked up the letter it had dropped, and started to open it, but another, more insistent knock reminded him why he'd been getting up in the first place.

He stuffed the letter into the wand pocket of his robes, and opened the door.

~.~.~

"What did you say to him?" Ginny asked, behind Professor Snape.

"I was merely trying to verify something."

"What did you say? Roland Weston came running past here looking furious. I think he's hiding behind the curtain over there. I haven't seen Harry run away like that before. Is something wrong?"

"Miss Weasley, there are forces at work that you cannot begin to understand."

"I know about the Orpheus Curse."

"I stand corrected, then, perhaps you do know something of the forces that are at work. We were of the opinion that...certain steps...would make it impossible for Harry to be harmed back the Curse. One professor was of the opinion that he could have been killed instantly by it, although I thought that was giving him far too much credit."

"And you, of course, would never do that." Ginny snarled back at him.

Snape seemed impressed by the challenge, rather than offended. "And pray tell, why would I? I've known him for years, and never seen a touch of that kind of humanity in him. He's just like his father, that insufferable slime, and he would probably consider that a compliment."

"No, he wouldn't," Ginny answered back, softly, with a sad sort of hatred replacing the venom. "And that's your fault."

"My fault? I don't believe I follow you, Miss Weasley."

"He told me about the Pensieve."

"Of course he did. He can't do something vile, something so disrespectful, without trumpeting it to the world! He's -"

"Not proud of it." She answered, and Snape stopped. "He told me that the day he touched your Pensieve, he killed both of his fathers - both his Godfather, because...well, you know...and his father."

Snape looked stricken, and sat down abruptly. "He said that?"

Ginny sat, as well, only belatedly looking around to make sure that none were watching.

"He did. He'd always had a picture of his father as someone to have as a role model, but not for what you said. The first he'd heard of his father was that he'd rejected Valdemort, and died to save his family. I think that's a perfectly good role model, don't you?"

Snape nodded, sweeping his hair back. "But James wasn't just..."

"No, he wasn't just a hero. He was also a man, who made some mistakes while he was in school. Some bad mistakes - and while I don't know if he regretted them, I know that Harry did. He used to talk about his parents all the time. Ron said that he just wanted to be normal, but he didn't mean that he wanted to be non-Magical. He meant that he wished he could have had a mother and father that were there for him. He spent his whole first year just wishing that he could see them, just once. After he saw your Pensieve, though, he never talked about his father again. Until he brought it up, back near the beginning of the year. He said he couldn't see his father any more. He knows what he looked like, but when he thinks of his father, he can't visualize a man who acted as badly as he did to you, and who was still a hero."

Snape looked down at his hands. "Are you quite finished?"

"Not quite. I care about Harry. I care about him very much...but I'm sure he doesn't care about me quite the same way. I've sent him a letter, just in case, though, so you don't have to worry about Orpheus. I think Harry's twice the man you are, but I think you both have something in common. Both of you are stubborn, judgmental, self-righteous gits, who can't get it through your head that someone with one vice can't also have a virtue. You hate him because he looks likes his father - he hates you because you hate him. Why can't both of you just give it a rest!" She had almost shouted out the last, and noticed that most of the students had moved well away during the diatribe. She had just yelled at a professor - and the one least likely to forgive her for her presumption. She suddenly slumped her shoulders. She spoke, almost under her breath. "Percy will never let me live this down - after all my crowing about doing better than him on the OWLs, I'll end up sleeping on Fred and George's floor."

"Was that an apology, Miss Weasley?" Snape asked.

"No," she stood her ground.

"Good", said a voice from nearby. She turned, and saw Albus right behind her. From Snape's expression, he hadn't heard, either. "Truth must never be apologized for, although you might consider using a bit more tact next time."

Snape, who had looked worn, now started to rise to the occasion. "Professor, you can't expect me to stand for this!"

"If it helps, Severus, consider the words to have come from me - and also consider that, should I have the opportunity, I will repeat the same speech to Harry on your behalf. Although, I think I might omit the part about him being twice the man you are - that seems to me to be a judgment better left to a witch."

Ginny turned beet red, then went further, into the color of the spectrum reserved for Weasley blushes.

"Miss Weasley, we may have some words at a later time on your means of expression, and your choice of location. But for now, I don't believe anything further is necessary. Please, enjoy the party. Severus, if you will come with me?"

Snape stood up, still looking unsettled, and walked with the Headmaster for a few steps, before he excused himself, heading towards the dungeons. Ginny had a feeling that it wasn't over, though - her NEWTs were only weeks away, and she figured that any hope she had had for one in Potions was gone.

"Ginny," came a voice from behind her. It was Roland Weston, peeking out from behind a curtain, his face glowing. "You were great!"

She walked over to him, and he stepped back, inviting her behind the curtain. "You heard?"

"No, I'm not that brave. I saw, though. You must like Professor Potter a lot."

Ginny nodded her head. "We're good friends."

"Just friends?" His voice sounded knowing, like a typical pre-teen boy teasing an older teenager about their relationship. She expected he'd break out into chanting momentarily, and blushed - then her blush deepened, as she realized that not answering his question was, in this case, worse than having answered it.

He nodded his head. "I thought so! After the way Snape asked him about you, earlier...I was really hoping."

"Roland, I'm not sure that's any business of yours."

"I'm afraid you're wrong." He pulled out his wand, quickly, and pointed it at her. "Stupefy! "

~.~.~

Harry was shocked, opening the door, to see a Slytherin there. Falco Van Hoek stood there, knocking anxiously.

"You shouldn't be out here alone, Mister Van Hoek. Five points from Slytherin."

"But, Professor, I saw Ginny..."

Harry was suddenly silent. "Yes?"

"I saw Ginny with Roland, and..."

"You bothered me for this?"

"...and, she looked like she was...I mean, he was using Mobilicorpus, moving her down one of the passages away from the Hall."

Harry wasn't sure what to think. His first impulse was to distrust anything that the slick first year from Slytherin said, but his second was to believe that just about any danger could be real. He started to run out, then thought better of it - he was about to run into danger, and although he didn't feel willing to confirm Albus' behavior by running to the Headmaster for help, he wasn't above having a little extra security before following this snake into somewhere perilous. He snatched a few items off the mantle, and shoved them into his pockets.

"Show me," he commanded, and he followed the boy, who showed him a secret password that Harry hadn't used. It didn't go to the kitchens or to Hogsmeade, so it wasn't high on his list of useful routes to use. Lighting his wand, Harry rushed into the passage, Falco running along side him.

The passage was musty and covered with webs, but the moist stone at least absorbed the sounds of their rapid footfalls. "They were going this way," Falco panted, as they came to a fork. "The other way goes to the Hall."

Harry grabbed his shoulder, and helped pull him along as they ran together, the eleven year old barely keeping up with the eighteen year-old professor.

Up ahead, there was an eerie orange light, which was almost blinding after the time in the hall. Harry ran into the room, and heard "Stupefy", before crashing to the ground. In the eye blink before the spell took effect, he'd seen enough of the room to show that rushing in had, perhaps, not been the best of ideas. There were two old wooden tables here, each sporting chains - Ginny lay on one of them, with the other empty.

~.~.~

"Enervate," Harry heard, and his eyes opened. Roland stood over him. The boy seemed nervous, but not as much so as Falco. The Slytherin boy was stirring a caldron, and seemed to be shivering.

"Nice wand, Potter," Roland held up the item in question, which he'd taken from Harry's hand after stunning him. "I expect this will make a nice trophy - my father will put it on his mantle, after I'm through with you."

There was a sharp intake of breath from Harry's left. "Ginny?" He asked, weekly.

"Harry, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Ginny."

Roland seemed content to let them talk. Smirking, he walked over to a small caldron, and began to stir the contents. "I'll be with you both in a moment."

"Ginny, the Influensus..."

"I know, it must be one of them."

"Harry - this is very important - did you get my note?"

"In my pocket," he said, "but I didn't get a chance to read it. Ginny, I wanted to apologize for the way I treated you. I mean, I was a total prat." His pocket...Harry's hands were chained to the table near his waist, not above his shoulders, with another chain around his neck. He could just barely reach them.

"NO!" Ginny said. "You were right. I mean, you're a professor, and I'm really not..."

Roland pointed his wand at her, and she trailed off. "One more word, and I'll not bother with this curse - I'll just try my hand with some of the darker ones. I may not get them right the first time, but I'll be more than happy to practice." Harry took advantage of his attention shifting to slip his hand into the large pocket on his side. If he could just reach...

Ginny laughed. "You do that. It will take months, and by then, Dumbledore will have long since found us. Besides, you can't hurt Harry. It won't work."

"I think you're wrong, Miss Weasley. And now, I'm going to prove it to you." Roland gestured at Falco, who picked up the caldron, and started to walk towards the two prisoners. "I think we both know that this curse will do more than cause you both pain. I've talked with both of you - I know that neither of you can survive this."

There was a crash, as a small crystal globe fell from Harry's pocket to the ground, splintering. Roland looked down at it, and his hateful smirk grew larger. "Cute. You thought to save the life of your girlfriend with a knick-knack. I don't think I've seen anything as pathetic since Dennis Creevey went after Falco with a strawberry."

"I wasn't trying to use a knick-knack," Harry said, his own intense smile beginning to grow. "I was trying to use this." Harry's hand was out of his pocket now, another wand in hand. This one had a core of phoenix as much as his own, although the wood was black as the heart of the previous owner.

Harry knew from Roland's comment that these two had performed the Orpheus curse on Dennis Creevey, and that they were about to perform it on the two of them. He also knew that one of them was probably under the Influensus curse, but he had no way of knowing which one. If he could stop the other one, then any charm would be enough to negate the Influensus. One of the two was charged with helping to develop the next great Dark Wizard. Which one was the helper - and which one the next Tom Riddle?

He remembered Roland trying to talk to him after class some months ago, and he knew - Roland might be a Gryffindor, but there was no way of knowing what his parents were. If he was under the Influensus, that class might have been his only time free of it - he could have been coming to tell Harry about the attacks, to ask for help, and Harry had missed the chance to hear him out.

Harry still didn't know what it was that made this curse special, but the professors had indicated that he wasn't in danger - although Roland had just said otherwise. He was willing to risk getting hurt by Roland and Falco, but he couldn't lose Ginny. He couldn't lose another friend.

The thought made his blood run cold, and there was an icy passion in the depths of his soul. He had been bottling up anger and resentment all year, and now some of it would be released. One of these children had made the decision to kill his friend, and that child would have to pay with his life. He was at that point in the chain of events where everything changes. If someone in Tom Riddle's youth had found him opening the Chamber of Secrets, had sent him to Azkaban for the Dementor's Kiss, then all the pain of the last fifty years could have been prevented. He could stop that, now.

He drew on his hatred, his fear, his frustration, and pointed the wand at Falco. "Avada Kedavra," he yelled. There was a flash of green light, and Harry felt suddenly very, very dirty, like he was swimming in the Thames at high summer. He heard a distant, tinny sound, which sounded something like thousands of voices, cheering him on. He also felt very, very, faint, as if he'd used up every ounce of magical power.

Falco's face held a look of terror. He swayed back and forth, before finally starting to tip forwards. The caldron dropped from his hands, and bounced off the floor. Its contents splattered, coating both Ginny and Harry with a fine mist, but leaving Roland alone - he had cast a shielding charm on himself as soon as Harry started his curse. Harry turned his wand towards Roland, and whispered, as he tried to cast something weak, using the little energy he felt he had left. "Rictusempra."

It didn't pass Roland's shield entirely. The boy gave a small chuckle, and bent over for a brief second, then straightened. He looked triumphant, he looked jubilant, and he didn't look at all like he'd just been freed from some sort of bondage. "Mister Potter. You chose wrong." Pointing his wand at Harry, he shouted. "Orpheus!" And Harry heard no more.