Adamo Mortalis

Adamo Mortalis

Chapter 6

A/N: Dedicated to Chris, because he's always there for me, to answer random, "Would it be weird if this happened in AM?..." questions whenver I need it. Thanks to Chelsey for beta-ing, and for doing it quickly this time. Also to all my reviewers from the first five chapters: Srox4690, Ashfae, HarryNZ, Lucy-Liza, athipsou, gilaesther, BabyXtreme, greenfairy, Sierra Black, niffler77, Liz R., Flame, Lana Love, Lolli Malfoy, Virginia Telcontar, carrottop, day1i11y, anmsmom, MythX, Joyce Cohen, lilahp, Crystal Music, GryffindorMandi, Lily Vance, flower0519, Charlie, Wolfcat, singtoangels, SilverPhoenix, and nefera. Keep reading, reviewing, and enjoying.

Harry did not want to get out of bed.

He had been sleeping peacefully until Ron woke him up, and after then he'd laid in bed and worried. Wishing Hedwig had not returned, so that Harry would not have to worry that Sirius was likely dead, Harry pulled at the edges of his blanket. His entire body was covered, like a cocoon, or a casket.

"Harry, come on." Ron's voice was exasperated. "It's the first day of school. You've got to get up and get dressed and eat breakfast."

Harry did not reply.

"Listen." Ron lowered his voice: Seamus, Dean and Neville, all getting dressed, were beginning to stare. "I'll go get Hermione if you don't, and you know she'll barge up here and yank you out of bed, and you don't want that."

Under the blanket with his eyes squeezed tightly shut, Harry listened to Ron and considered this option. No, he really didn't want Hermione up here. He opened his eyes and swung his feet over the side of the bed, letting the blanket tumble off of him.

Without his glasses, Ron was only a blurry mess of scarlet hair and scrambled features, but Harry could tell from the tone of Ron's voice that he was smiling. "Good. I thought that'd get you up."

Harry grunted, and squinted in an attempt to locate his glasses. He did so, roughly shoved them on, and stood up, ignoring a momentary spell of dizziness. Now he could clearly see that Ron was definitely amused by all of this. Narrowing his usually brilliant green eyes, Harry glared at Ron as he dug through his trunk to find a clean pair of boxers.

Though his eyes were laughing, Ron said genuinely, "Perhaps you should tell Professor Dumbledore today. He might even know something about Sirius. I'll go with you, if you want."

Harry recognized this as a peace offering and accepted it. "Yeah. I guess so."

Ron nodded. "We should get our schedules at breakfast in a minute, and we can figure out a spare moment to go see him."

"Mmm," said Harry, in an affirmative sort of way, and pulled a shirt over his head.

When he emerged, Ron looked at him and said, "I'm going down to breakfast. You'll be there in a little bit?"

"Yeah," Harry said tonelessly. "Just let me find my school bag, and some parchment and quills. I'll put on my shoes and be down in a minute."

"All right," Ron said, and left the room. As Harry was tying his shoe, he noticed the crumpled letter Hedwig had brought back, still laying on the floor. Feeling a combination of anger and despair rise in his stomach, Harry threw away the parchment and headed for the Great Hall.

***

Remus awoke in mid-morning with a fiercely bright sun making stripes across his bed. He groaned and stood up on wobbly legs to shut the curtains, although the cloth was so weak that it tore when he touched it lightly and fell to the ground.

Rubbing his eyes, Remus thoughtfully considered the dialogue coming from the next room. "Just a little bit further--just a little bit--no, no, NO! Bloody hell!"

At the last bit of cursing, Remus frowned and stumbled out into the shack's main room as quickly as he could on still-weak legs. Sirius was holding something that looked like a scarf with a tail. Remus raised his eyebrows.

Sirius turned, still glaring fiercely at the object he clasped. "'Lo. You're pretty good at transfiguration, aren't you?"

Remus lowered himself slowly into an ancient-looking chair. "I used to be. I don't think I could do much with your wand."

"Oh, that's right," Sirius said, and there was an uncomfortable silence between them. Sirius cleared his throat. "This doesn't look right, does it?"

"Er," said Remus carefully. "Well, everything except the tail."

Scrunching his nose in frustration, Sirius said, "I was trying to make it a scarf, but I went too far. I was thinking something along the lines of a mink scarf? You know, something that says, 'I'm rich, but also nondescript and maybe a little mysterious?' I was hoping to distract the post office clerk, assuming it's a woman..." he trailed off as Remus stared at him. "What?"

"Just that I don't know that mink scarves have been in style since...well, since never, and particularly not for men," Remus said. "That will definitely not get you nondescript, particularly not in August. No one's wearing scarves in August."

Sirius stood up to pace around wearily. "You're right. I'm no good at this." Putting his hands up behind his head, he stared vaguely out the window, although all that was visible were the trees that stayed the same the entire time he'd been there. Remus stayed quiet; finally Sirius turned back to the problem at hand. "So, what should I wear to be inconspicuous?"

Remus leaned back in his chair and stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Just...regular clothes. You know, a nice pair of jeans, a t-shirt--things you used to wear. Perhaps not the leather biker jacket, however."

"That seems so...exposed, though." Sirius bit his lip. "So visible. I mean--I need a disguise of some sort. I just escaped from Azkaban two years ago--people don't forget the wanted posters that quickly."

Remus frowned, then brightened slightly. "You should give yourself a goatee. Perhaps--perhaps sideburns, too."

Sirius snorted. "Those were popular back when we went to Hogwarts, Remus. You can't tell me they're back in."

Halfheartedly smiling, Remus said, "Trust me on this one. Work with the facial hair, and...maybe you could still wear a hat of some sort. The more--well, normal, I suppose--your image is, the less likely people will be to recognize you."

"I suppose." Sirius paused. "Sideburns? Really? Do you think they'd suit me?"

***

Hermione was calmly spooning porridge into her mouth when Ron arrived and sat down across from her. "Hey. Just in case you had plans to get on Harry's bad side today--don't."

"Why not?" Hermione asked, but Harry arrived before Ron could answer her. He looked terrible.

"Harry," Hermione said, "Have you noticed you're wearing two different socks?"

He glanced down vaguely in the direction of his feet. "Oh. No."

"And there are pillow lines on your cheek."

"Mmph," he replied, serving himself some toast. Hermione was tempted to lean over and rub the red lines away, but Harry didn't really seem in the mood to be coddled.

Hermione set her elbows on the table and leaned forward to peer more closely at him. He said grouchily, "Hermione, if you tell me one more thing that's wrong with how I look today, I'll hex you."

"I don't have any more complaints," she said a little too cheerfully. "How're you?"

"Fine." His answer was immediate.

"You don't seem fine."

"Well, I am fine."

"Are you--"

"Hasn't Ron already told you?" he asked, glaring at Ron, who had been observing their conversation, and looked uneasy as he served himself a muffin. Ron slid a little further down the bench and started up a conversation about the Chudley Cannons with Dean Thomas.

"No, he hasn't. What's wrong?"

"Hedwig came back with my letter to Sirius. As in, she couldn't find him."

Hermione bit her lip. "Oh--Harry."

He shrugged. "I guess I'm going to talk to Professor Dumbledore today."

"I'll come with you."

Another shrug. "If you want. Ron offered, too." Hermione noticed that he wasn't eating--just breaking off little bits of toast and putting them in a pile.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, and noticed the contrast of his dark eyelashes against his skin, like ink strokes on an empty parchment, as he glanced down for a moment. When he looked up, his face was expressionless.

"It's all right," he said, sounding forcedly light. "I'll figure out what's going on first. We'll just have to see."

"I--" Hermione couldn't think of anything to say to that. Panicking internally at the awkward silence, she scrabbled around her bookbag to find her timetable, and Harry's, because she'd taken his when they'd been distributed. "Here's your schedule."

Glancing at it disinterestedly, Harry shrugged (It's his gesture for the day, Hermione thought) and then looked up with an expression of mixed guilt and concern. "I forgot to ask earlier: how's your leg?"

"Oh, I suppose it's better," she replied, sighing. "It's more just a frustration than anything. It doesn't really hurt very much anymore; it's just really stiff."

"That's good." A corner of his mouth curled up in a smile. "I hear Seamus helped you around a little last night."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "That got around the boys dormitory that fast, huh?"

Now he gave a real smile. "Well, it's pretty exciting and all, you allowing Seamus to assist you, the previously unassistable girl."

"Hey!" she protested. "I'm not that obsessive about it."

"Mmm," said Harry, his eyes drawn to another part of the room where Draco Malfoy was engaged in breakfast. Hermione watched his gaze, and observed that Harry seemed to be wondering about something--probably still trying to figure out why Malfoy had been so nice to them lately. There had to be an ulterior motive, right?

The school year certainly hasn't gotten off to a good start for the Boy Who Lived and his friends, Hermione thought wryly.

Snapping her attention back to Harry, Hermione frowned once again at his appearance. "Harry?" she said, as gently as possible. "I think your shirt's on backwards."

***

Checking her watch, Ginny quickly realized that if she didn't leave to go eat breakfast in a couple of minutes, she would miss it entirely. Standing back away from the mirror, she did a final once-over of her appearance.

Ginny had spent a considerable bit of her summer memorizing cosmetic charms, although of course she hadn't been able to perform any of them outside of school. Twisting a finger inside a charm-curled ringlet, she felt her time was well spent. Her auburn hair was set off by her freckled skin, and she had applied a little lip gloss to give her mouth a bit of a shine.

To her surprise, there hadn't really been dark circles underneath her eyes to charm away--she had slept well the night before, and was in general feeling better. Away from the concerned looks of her family, Ginny felt more comfortable, despite the fact that Hogwarts was where all her problems had started.

She shouldered her school bag and set off for the Great Hall. Going in, she bumped into Harry coming out. Feeling her face flush scarlet, Ginny murmured, "Sorry," and glanced up at Harry. She did a double take: he looked terrible.

Surprised out of her embarrassment, Ginny knitted delicate eyebrows into a frown and asked Harry, "Are you all right? I mean...you look..."

"Like I'm wearing two different socks, and that I have pillow wrinkles on my cheek, and that my shirt's on backwards. I know." He gave a halfhearted smile. "Er...yes," Ginny said awkwardly, unsure of how to reply. Harry laughed, which both served to embarrass her further and to please her.

As if his face had suddenly been shut down, Harry's expression again turned to one of dismal resignation, and he bowed his head. "I'd better go," he said, and left.

Sitting down with some other girls from her house, Ginny caught sight of Draco, also leaving the Great Hall, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. To her shock, he looked right at her and winked, which made her blush once again.

You'd think, thought Ginny, that after growing up with six brothers, I'd be able to better deal with boys.

***

Remus, seated in the battered old chair, regarded Sirius for another moment with a critical, then finally gave a surprisingly enthusiastic smile. "Well, I don't know about you, but I think you're ready to go. I'd never recognize you."

Disguised with a goatee and sideburns, and wearing a backwards baseball cap, jeans, and a gray t-shirt, Sirius not only looked years younger but entirely unidentifiable as the Azkaban escapee whose face had been all over the news. He grinned, and Remus was reminded so strongly of past days--of the Sirius that had been the best man at James' wedding, adored his baby godson Harry, and rode around everywhere on a flying motorcycle and in a leather jacket--that he had to swallow back a lump in his throat.

"All right, then, well, I'm off. I'll be back as soon as I can. I hope it won't take long. It shouldn't, since I'm just Apparating there and back."

Remus nodded. Sirius had briefed him on the plan while they were preparing their disguise, and as far as Remus could see, there weren't any massive holes in their scheme. Sirius had already enclosed his letter to Dumbledore in an envelope, and if everything went all right, all he would have to do would be to pay for the owl, then send the bird off on his own, so that no one would have to know that Sirius was owling Hogwarts' headmaster.

Giving another nervous smile, Sirius Disapparated, leaving Remus alone in the house with his thoughts.

***

Draco's first class of the day was DADA with the Gryffindors. For a moment, walking to the classroom, his natural instincts kicked in and he grimaced, but quickly the more logical part of his brain recognized that this would be another potential opportunity to act nicely towards Harry and his friends. And, he recalled, tilting his head to one side thoughtfully, the class would certainly be much more interesting with the new teacher that Professor Dumbledore had selected. Draco's eyebrows had shot up in surprise at the banquet the night before when the Headmaster had announced his choice. He wondered exactly how well Potter knew her, and one side of his mouth curled up in his trademark smile as he considered the possibilities.

Entering the room and sitting at a table between Crabbe and Goyle, Draco glanced up to watch other students come in. He was amused to see Weasley's face turn redder than his hair and his eyes nearly pop out of his head when he glanced towards the front of the classroom, and remembered that the trio had been gone during the banquet last night when the DADA teacher had been announced. Hmm. Does Weasley have some sort of attachment to her, too? Draco wondered. He kept his eyes glued on Ron as class began.

"Allo, fifth years. I am your new Defense Against Ze Dark Arts teacher." Fleur Delacour smiled winningly, her silver-blond hair hanging past her shoulders, swirling and swishing when she moved. "I am only eighteen years old, but 'Eadmaster Dumbly-dorr felt zat I was competent enough to teach you anyway. I graduated from Beauxbatons last June and 'ave been preparing all summer to be ready to teach you 'ow to prepare you to defend yourselves against Dark wizards. Some of you may remember me from my participation in ze Triwizard Tournament last year at 'Ogwarts.

"I 'ave chosen to teach you zis year mainly from ze recently published text Defense Against Dark Magic, written by ze wondrous doctor H.L. Pratchett. You should 'ave purchased your copies zis summer, as ze book was on ze required list."

The classroom filled with shuffling noises as students searched through their bags or dug under their desks to find their copy of Dark Magic. Draco located his without taking his eyes from Weasley, who hadn't moved. His face had gone from beet red to milk white, making his freckles stand out like pinpoints on a blank sheet of parchment. As Draco watched, Harry nudged Ron, obviously trying to draw his attention away. But Ron didn't move his gaze from Fleur, who was still standing at the front of the classroom, attempting to give an unnoticeable adjustment to her bra strap, although several boys in the classroom saw it and their eyes glazed over.

The rest of the class period was spent listening to Fleur discuss the first chapter of the book. The next class period, she told them, they would start practical training. Draco listened carefully, took notes, and answered one of her questions correctly, in hopes of getting the Gryffindors to notice him, but it was to no avail. Weasley had slunk down so far in his seat that he was almost invisible, and Potter was obviously distracted by Weasley's misery. Granger, as always, was perfectly attentive in class, but she never even glanced back at Draco.

Weasley was extremely slow about gathering his things at the end of class, seeming to still be in a stupor, so Potter had gone to talk to Granger. Edging his way around other students to get to Potter, Draco slipped in behind Potter and Granger and said as they were all leaving the classroom, "'Lo, Harry. How's it going?"

"Fine," Harry said coldly, and with Seeker gracefulness, managed to worm his way through the crowd away from Draco so quickly that even Hermione was left behind. She went chasing after him, but Draco decided it wasn't quite worth the effort just this one time.

He knew he'd made the right decision when, a moment later, he spotted Ginny in the hallway.

***

To be entirely honest, Sirius had to admit that he felt very silly in the outfit he was wearing to disguise himself in town. He felt an almost uncontrollable urge to scratch his new facial hair and to turn around his hat so that it face forwards, but tried to look calm and in control. He was good at it: it had been easier to control his emotions after his Azkaban stay, where emotions would drive you insane.

Exhaling with relief at completing his first step of the journey, which was finding the post office, Sirius stared at the post office sign for a moment, then opened the door and went inside.

It had been years since he'd been around quite so many people, especially as just one of the crowd, another average wizard coming in to send an average post. Clenching his shaking hands behind his back for a moment, Sirius forced himself to rationalize the situation and approached a counter, where a bored-looking sales-wizard stood next to a

sign detailing rates and fares for different sorts of owls and trips. Taking a deep breath, Sirius said calmly, "I'd like to send a letter, please. Regular urgency, medium weight owl."

"Very good, sir. May I weigh your letter for you?"

With fingers that shook, Sirius handed the folded bit of parchment to the clerk. He hadn't been stupid enough to already address it to Albus Dumbledore, and had sealed it away very carefully so that it wouldn't accidentally open. Still, his heart jumped into his throat when the sales-wizard dropped the letter on the floor and stooped to pick it up. Sirius had to grab hold of the counter to keep himself upright; his knees had given out.

"Whoops!" the clerk announced cheerfully, standing back up. "And I'll just weigh it...very good. Looks like it falls in the lowest price range. That will be four Sickles, sir."

Sirius, who was lucky to have not had the need to spend any money in the last several years, carefully counted out the pieces to the clerk, who directed him to where the medium-weight owls were kept and gave him a receipt to give to an owl-keeper. Still feeling apprehensive, for his job was not yet done, Sirius showed the receipt to another worker, who selected and handed him a sturdy-looking russet brown owl. Sirius stroked its beak for a moment, then took it outside, where he wrote, "Albus Dumbledore," in trembling fingers on the letter, then whispered to the bird the headmaster's name, gave it the letter, and set it free.

Giving all his attention to the owl, Sirius had hardly noticed a couple of wizards having a heated discussion behind a nearby tree. Once the owl had taken off, Sirius turned to hear one say to the other, "Doesn't that man look familiar?"

Sirius nearly tripped and fell over his own feet in his hurry to escape, which he did, although he could hear voices calling after him, perhaps the two wizards who'd been discussing his appearance. Finally, he reached what he figured was a safe enough spot, and, with no one else in sight, Disapparated back to the shack where Remus was.

***

Hermione weaved her way through the groups of students in the hallway, her bookbag banging painfully against her hip as she walked as fast as she could, breaking into a run as soon as most of the people were out of the way. She entered Gryffindor Tower, and just glimpsed Harry's dark hair, which today stuck up in the back, round a corner ahead of her, and she forced herself into a last-effort sprint and caught him just as he was stepping into the portrait hole.

"Harry." She tugged at his sleeve, feeling childish. "Aren't you going to come have lunch?"

"I'm not hungry," he said, irritated, and turned to go again, but Hermione firmly grasped his elbow.

"Come on, Harry, you should eat something. You hardly had any breakfast, and it's the first day of school. You don't want to--"

"Maybe I do want to," he said harshly. "Look, I'm just...tired of this. All anyone ever does in this school is fuss over me! You, Ron, and even Ginny this morning, and all the boys in my year--they treat me like I'm some kind of...of breakable china, and I'm tired of it. For Merlin's sake, even Fleur gave me a look of pity this morning. It's as if everybody knows that something else has gone wrong, and I'm tired of everyone feeling sorry for me!"

"We're all just worried about you. I know you're upset about Sirius--"

"Don't you see?" Harry said, a dangerous light flickering in his eyes. Hermione had seen it before, on a few rare occasions, but it had never been directed at her. "That's exactly it. You're so pitying, and you make me feel so pathetic, and I hate it! Either treat me just like everyone else, or leave me alone."

With that, Harry wrenched his arm out of Hermione's grasp and stalked off into the common room, leaving Hermione alone in the hallway. She wrapped her arms around herself and went to lean briefly against the nearest wall, bowing her head and closing her eyes.

***

Ron tried to make his feet move forward, but found he was stuck to the floor, almost as if by a spell, although he could feel no physical force preventing him. Picking up his DADA books and holding them with one arm, Ron tried to will himself to look away from Fleur, searching through her desk at the front of the classroom. She bent further over, frowning, and Ron could see down her shirt to the V between her breasts.

Merlin, he thought, feeling his body react against his will. I have to get out I have to get out I have to get out--

Now she had straightened back up, looking at him quizzically. Tucking a strand of hair that was more silver than blonde behind her ear, Fleur asked, "Is zere somezing wrong, Mr. Weasley?"

"N-no," he stammered, and managed to stumble forward, hitting his shin painfully against a chair leg in front of him. "I was just, er, wondering...about...the other books that were on the list," he finished in a rush. He held the other DADA books he'd purchased in July out in front of him, as if to shield himself from her. "I...er...are we..."

"Going to use zem?" she finished, now looking as if she were wondering if he was quite all right in the head. "Eventually, yes. Later in ze year."

"Oh," said Ron haltingly. "That's--that's good."

"Er...yes," Fleur said, delicate pale eyebrows knitting together. "Is zat all?"

"Yes," Ron replied after a moment's thought, drawing out the last letter of the word. "Yes, that is all."

"Well, why don't you run along to your next class, zen," she said, looking at him as if this should be obvious.

"R-right," he said. "Class, that's right, I've got class." He didn't move.

"Are you feeling properly, Mr. Weasley?"

He watched her mouth as she spoke, imagining himself tracing her lips, then matching them with his. He was mesmerized, and realized that the hand without his books in it was moving forward slowly, as if trying to act on his impulse. Dropping it back at his side, Ron flushed.

"Perhaps you should see Madam Pomfrey?"

I can't do this anymore, Ron thought furiously, and tried to turn to leave. But his feet simply wouldn't move. Finally, he gave up. Allowing his books to fall from his

hand and hit the floor, each with a loud thwap! he approached Fleur, took her upper arms, and, pinning her against the wall before she could react, kissed her hard on the mouth.

***

"I think--I was recognized," Sirius said haltingly, gasping for breath as he spoke. Remus stared at him in alarm, and pointed to a chair, into which Sirius collapsed. "Wizards--they knew me. From the wanted posters."

"Are you absolutely sure of this?" Remus asked calmly. His heart was pounding, but he tried to hide it.

"Yes, completely. I ran away, but they--went after me." Sirius took a deep, shaking breath, and Remus watched him closely. His face was pale, and his eyes still darted around the room frantically, as if expecting someone to pop up at any moment. "They went after me..."

"Did they see you Disapparate?"

"No; I managed to get behind some--I don't know, trees or something, when I got a ways ahead of them. It's not like they'd be able to tell where I went, anyway."

"Well," Remus said gently, "I think you should be all right, then. They don't know where you went, or for sure that it was you. And, I mean, they didn't have a camera or anything, right?"

"Not as far as I know," Sirius said, a slight bit of the color returning to his face. "I suppose that's all true. I just--" He fingered the bridge of his nose, a nervous gesture. "It was--a little--wild, for a while there."

"You sent the owl, though, right?" Remus asked, putting a little more emphasis on the words than he meant. He didn't want to make Sirius any more anxious than he already was.

"Yes, yes, of course." He gave a lopsided grin. "That part was fine."

"Well, at least that's good," Remus said, tranquil as ever. "I really think you'll be all right now. You can relax."

"I know," Sirius replied, now stroking his goatee. "What do you think? Should I keep this thing?"

Remus raised his eyebrows, which made Sirius laugh. "You're right. It doesn't suit me."

***

Ginny, maneuvering through the hallway as usual, with her head down and her heavy bookbag almost making her stoop over, started with surprise when she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was rare that any of her brothers would seek her out at school, and she'd just seen Harry and Hermione go by in the opposite direction--

She turned. It was Draco.

"Hey," he said calmly, taking her upper arm and gently pulling her to one side of the crowded hallway so they wouldn't be in the way. "How are you?"

"I'm--fine," she replied, almost inaudible. His hand was still on her. "What--what are you doing?"

"I was wondering," he said slowly, as if afraid of rejection, "if you'd like to come to Hogsmeade with me tonight. I--I'd like to take you out."

"W-what?" Ginny stammered, almost too shocked to notice that he almost sounded shy. "Tonight? But...we're not allowed to leave school grounds..."

Draco shrugged elegantly, and she could feel the grip of his hand on her shoulder shifting as he moved, then restabilizing. He looked directly at her, gray eyes penetrating, and replied, "I know a way out. We won't get caught."

"I--I--I suppose," Ginny said, unable to comprehend the situation. Draco Malfoy? Asking me out? "Er...when?"

"I'll meet you at the front staircase around seven," he said smoothly.

"All right," she said shakily. "Seven."

He smiled down at her, the smile that appeared so rarely, the one without any trace of malice or mischief, then let go of her arm, and disappeared.

Ginny stood off to the side of the hallway for a moment, staring blankly at the people crossing in front of her without actually seeing any of them. Finally, she closed her eyes briefly, shook her head, and tried to remember where exactly she'd been going before...Before Draco stopped to ask me out, she told herself. Draco. Draco Malfoy asked me out.

Merlin. Draco Malfoy asked me out.

***

"What do you zink you're doing!" Fleur shoved Ron away with such a force that he nearly backed into the desk closest to him. He took a moment to steady himself, then looked down at her. Her pale eyebrows were raised imperiously, and she seemed to almost look down upon him, despite the fact that he was considerably taller than her.

"Erm," said Ron, trying to look inconspicuous. She didn't give him a chance to respond more articulately.

"I am a teacher at zis school, Mr. Weasley. You are a student. C'est impossible!" She shook her head for effect, then continued. "I understand zat ze fact zat I am part veela attracts you. Perhaps we will 'ave to get you a charm or amulet of some sort to...protect my integrity as your instructor."

Ron could feel his face flush, but he was still somehow attracted by her anger. Her chest was heaving up and down vigorously in her fury, and he allowed his eyes to focus on that.

"I will be leaving now." Fleur swept past him, careful to keep her distance, leaving Ron alone in the classroom.

He felt a silly smile spread across his face. Was she playing hard-to-get? Well, he would have to try harder to get her.

***

Harry did something he'd never done before, and lied to get out of a class.

He went a couple of minutes early to Divination that afternoon, and approached Professor Trelawney to say he wasn't feeling well. In the middle of speaking, he was hit with a burst of creativity, and told her that he'd been drinking tea the day before and had seen an eye with an arrow through it in the tea leaves at the bottom, which he believed to signify that he shouldn't go to Divination, because something bad would happen. Before he knew it, Professor Trelawney was making arm motions similar to that of a large moth, which she resembled clearly in a giant amber shawl, and shooing him out of the classroom. So he left, feeling strangely relieved, as if it had been too easy. Getting his Firebolt out and putting on a pair of jeans and trainers, Harry snuck out to the Quidditch field.

As he'd expected, no one was there. He climbed on his Firebolt and closed his eyes briefly, enjoying the feel of the wood beneath him, and the familiar grip of his hands on the broom, and the simple comfort that he felt on a broomstick. Slowly, almost lazily, Harry opened his eyes, and took off.

Inhaling deeply and throwing his head back, Harry almost smiled. He felt the breeze around him, stirring the hot air, and the sky above was clear and blue, exactly as it should be. He could see Hogwarts, down below and off to one side, and it relaxed him to know that he was far away from school, and all the things that went along with it--namely, dealing with the probable loss of Sirius. While Harry was in the air, speeding along in his Firebolt, none of that could touch him; he was too far gone.

He practiced some moves, the Wronski Feint more often than others, taking breaks often to simply shoot around the stadium. He practiced riding without either hand, and dove at the ground in pursuit of an imaginary Snitch, and swerved around opposing players that weren't there, all until he was panting with exertion and he could feel his t-shirt stuck to his back.

Checking his watch, he realized it was nearly time for dinner, and he was starving. He couldn't sit with Hermione, of course, but Ron would be there, and he would probably be smart enough to not probe Harry with questions. Carrying his Firebolt over one shoulder, Harry stood in the blissful shade of a nearby tree (which fortunately did not resemble the Whomping Willow) for a minute before forcing himself to head back inside. He was hungry, to be sure, but of course not thrilled about going back to school.

Returning to his room briefly, Harry took a minute to clean himself up, switching t-shirts and running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to straighten it. He failed, mostly.

"Feeling better, I presume, Harry?"

Startled, Harry turned to see Professor Dumbledore in the hallway outside his dorm room. Momentarily, he had a flash of confusion, but quelled it. "Er...yes. I am."

Dumbledore smiled, and Harry could see there was a twinkle in his eye. "It is unfortunate that you were ill for the first day of school."

"Yes, well, I'm really feeling quite better now," Harry said, and added helpfully, "I'm sure I'll be able to go to all of my classes tomorrow."

"That is good news," Dumbledore said mildly. "You wouldn't want to get too far behind."

"Right," Harry said, and then, "Professor, there's something I'd like to talk to you about--sometime."

"Of course, Harry. Perhaps you would like to come to my office after the evening meal?"

"Okay." Harry felt some of the weight slide from his shoulders and on to Dumbledore's--at least Harry wouldn't have to deal with it alone anymore. Dumbledore would know what to do.

They walked to the Great Hall in companionable silence, although Dumbledore bid Harry goodbye at the door and went to the staff table at the front of the room, while Harry took a space next to Ron.

"Hey," said Ron, looking up as Harry sat down. "Where were you in Divination today?"

He shrugged. "I didn't want to go, so I made up something about seeing an eye and an arrow in a teacup. Trelawney bought it and let me out of class."

"Wicked!" Ron exclaimed, grinning. "I've got to try that sometime."

Harry gave a half-smile and served himself some chicken, trying not to notice that Hermione wasn't sitting with Harry and Ron like usual, but instead several seats down with Lavender, Parvati, Ginny and some other Gryffindor girls. Harry and Ron ate in silence, although Harry noticed that Ron seemed unusually cheerful. Harry didn't really want to talk, though, so he shrugged it off and let Ron be.

At the end of the meal, Harry turned to Ron and said simply, "I'm going to talk to Dumbledore tonight.

"That's good," said Ron, looking relieved. "Do you want me to come?"

Harry shrugged. "I think it'll be fine, but you can come if you want."

"I think I'm going to stay here, then," Ron replied. "Seamus challenged me to a game of wizard's chess, and I want to beat the trousers off him."

Harry felt one corner of his mouth turn up--such an utterly Ron way to think--and said, "Sounds fun. I'll come watch after I finish."

Noticing that Dumbledore was no longer at the staff table, and was likely heading back to his office to wait for Harry, Harry stood up. Crossing the room quickly, he headed towards the Headmaster's office.

***

Ginny ate her dinner quickly, hardly looking up at any of the girls around her. She was just about ready to stand up when Hermione put a hand on her arm. "Hey. What are you doing tonight? I was going to go to the library to do some Charms research for extra credit, and I know the fourth-years always have that big Charms project right near the beginning of term. Do you want to come with me to the library, and we can both do research?"

She was stuck.

"Er...no, but thank you...I think...I might just go to my room and read tonight. I'm a bit tired," she lied.

Hermione nodded kindly, then frowned. "Are you feeling all right?"

Rolling her eyes exaggeratedly, Ginny said, "I'm fine, really."

"Do you want some company tonight? We can just sit and read together."

Now she was really stuck. She couldn't refuse Hermione's offer.

"I...I...actually...I might be...going out," she squeaked quietly.

"Going out? But where? It's a school night, and we're not allowed out anyway. Where would you be going?"

Ginny was speechless. Her eyes darted around the room anxiously.

"Look at me." Hermione's voice was calm, but commanding, and Ginny looked at her, their eyes meeting. "Where are you going?"

Ginny slunk down low in her chair. "I'll tell you, but you have to promise not to tell anyone, all right?"

"Of course," Hermione agreed readily. "What is it?"

"Dracoaskedmeonadate," Ginny said, all in a rush, and as quietly as possible.

"What about mandrakes?"

Looking pained, Ginny raised her face, and said more slowly, "Malfoy...er...Draco. He asked me on a date."

"HE DID WHAT?" Hermione shrieked, and half stood up. Ginny yanked her back down just as quickly, and put a hand over her mouth.

"That wasn't a very good job of not telling anyone," Ginny whispered fiercely, her fingers still covering Hermione's mouth. "Can you be quiet about it, or do we have to go somewhere else?"

Hermione pried Ginny's hand away, and stared for a moment unblinkingly at the tableware in front of her. If it hadn't been Ginny's revelation that Hermione was goggling at, Ginny would have laughed, because Hermione was so rarely quite so stunned.

Finally Hermione shook her head as if to clear it, and said, "And you said yes?"

"He's been nice to me lately," she protested, and added, "He's been nice to all of us. And it's not like there are boys lining up in front of my door to go out with me."

"But you can do so much better than that," Hermione said, still looking a little dazed. "Besides, you'll have to be really careful with him. I don't completely trust him yet."

"Well, of course not," Ginny said hurriedly. "But I think it'll be all right, for one night. We'll just see how it goes."

"I guess," said Hermione doubtfully. "I just...Malfoy. I never expected him to..." she trailed off, was silent for a moment, then smiled. "Anyway. I know I'm going to sound awfully dizzy* saying this, but what are you going to wear?"

Ginny looked flustered. "I...oh, I hadn't thought about that yet."

Hermione's eyes lit up. "We have a project, then," she said smiling, and Ginny smiled back, although to be completely honest with herself, Ginny had to admit that she was a little scared.

***

By mid-afternoon, after classes were finished for the day, Draco's body was drooping with exhaustion. He yawned and pushed back his silver-blond hair, which was rather dramatically falling into his face. He would wait to worry about it until he was actually getting ready for the evening.

Draco easily gained permission from Snape to use the Potions lab. Snape was particularly fond of Draco, along with many of the other Slytherins, and was always willing to let Draco and others use the school's ingredients and so forth if they needed to outside of class. Draco had know students from his house, in earlier years, to take

advantage of this and brew aphrodisiacs and the like, but Snape simply turned his head and pretended not to notice.

Of course, if one were a Gryffindor, there would be no way to get into the Potions lab outside of the class period.

Draco was tired, but not too tired to pay attention to what he was doing. He wanted a Pepper-Up Potion, but because those had to steam and be of a higher temperature than most potions, it was particularly important not to make a mistake, because it could splatter up and splash you while it was boiling.

Leaving the potion some time to sit and cool down a bit (it needed to be hot, but not so fiery that it burned your mouth), Draco glanced around the classroom for something to do. He hadn't had enough foresight to bring any of his homework with him, but he shrugged and figured that he'd just take the day off. If he was going to take Ginny out, then he wouldn't have any time anyway.

His eyes lit upon a copy of the Daily Prophet under one of the desks, faded and torn and not looking particularly recent. Bending to pick it up, Draco was moderately surprised to see on the front page: Former Hogwarts teacher in werewolf form killed young boy. See page 2A.

I never heard anything about this, Draco thought indignantly, and flipped to the story with interest. He scanned it briefly, then went back and read through all of it, his mind taking note of the facts.

The case sounded very suspicious to him, and he had a feeling that there was information missing. He wondered idly if Voldemort was behind it, and thought for a split second about asking his father, who would probably know. Of course, Draco wouldn't get an answer to the question and would probably be slapped upside the head for asking, so that wasn't a good idea.

Storing the tidbit in the back of his mind, Draco went back to his Pepper-Up Potion, which was now cool enough to drink. He couldn't be walking around the hallways of Hogwarts, of course, with steam coming out of his ears, so he went back to his dorm room and pulled the curtains around his bed. Draco wasn't hungry, so he read his DADA homework until 6:30, then got up to begin straightening his hair and to pick out a shirt and trousers to wear.

***

"There!" Hermione dabbed a final bit of tawny brownish eyeshadow on Ginny's closed eyelids and smiled. "You look beautiful."

"Gorgeous," Lavender agreed, smoothing down a piece of stray auburn hair.

"Stunning," said Parvati, giving a gentle tug to the end of Ginny's skirt as Ginny twirled around for all of them to see. She was really very pretty, her cheeks glowing with excitement and her reddish hair loose and curling around her shoulders. Hermione felt proud of her work, and was glad that she had recruited the other Gryffindor girls to help.

"Thank you all so much," Ginny said, grinning, "but I think you'd better go, because it's almost seven, and I've got to go soon."

The three fifth-year girls exited the room and Hermione, leaving last, gave Ginny an encouraging smile and raised her eyebrows significantly.

Hermione went back to her dorm room and decided to follow her original plan and head to the library. She picked up her Charms text and her DADA book and put both

in her school bag, shouldering it all in a routine of awkward gestures. Hermione looked in her mirror and frowned--strands of curling hair were falling out of her ponytail, and she looked tired--but shrugged and left anyway. It was only the library, and Madam Pince didn't care what she looked like.

All her thoughts and plans were scattered to pieces when she literally ran into Harry at the portrait hole. She'd been walking with her head down, involved in thinking about her homework, and Harry also looked rather bewildered when she glanced up after knocking into him. With a flush and a murmured, "Sorry," Hermione tried to barrel past him to the hallway.

"Wait." He caught at her arm, which in itself was unlike him--Harry didn't touch people unless absolutely necessary. Clearing his throat, he said tentatively, "I want to talk to you. If you'll listen, that is."

"Of course," Hermione said quietly, and both stood still for a moment. His fingers were still gripped around her wrist. "Do you want to...go somewhere?"

"I suppose," Harry said, looking similarly uncertain, and then, "We could find an empty classroom."

"Yes," Hermione agreed. "Transfiguration is near here, just out of this hallway."

Hermione's hands shook as they walked, side by side, to the room. When they arrived, it was dark, but Harry lit a couple of the torches along the walls with a quick Incendio! and the room filled with light, albeit dimmer than in the daytime. It was still comfortable, however--Hermione would always be comfortable in a classroom--and warm enough to be relaxing.

Harry glanced down at his shoes, then at his hands, and finally up at Hermione. "So, I talked to Dumbledore for a little bit. He thinks...that we shouldn't give up all hope. Apparently things like this--an owl returning--have happened before, when people have been in an uncertain location, or a particularly dangerous one, or were unable to be contacted. I guess...I guess that it's not as bad as it could be."

"That's good," Hermione said, happy for Harry that things were improving slightly. "You know Dumbledore'll try his best to get ahold of Sirius and find out what happened."

Harry nodded. "I know he will. I just--I guess I don't quite feel like anything's happened, you know? Nothing's for sure yet, and so...without any proof, I just..." he paused briefly, then finished. "I wish I knew a more definite answer so that I could...respond, I guess."

"Yes," Hermione agreed softly, suddenly lost in her thoughts. She looked up, realizing that Harry was staring at her, and blushed. "Sorry. I was distracted."

"It's all right." He hesitated again. "Hermione, I...I'm sorry."

"I know."

"I shouldn't have said those things before. I didn't mean them."

When she didn't answer, he glanced at her, then did a double take and looked closer at her. "Are you all right?"

She nodded.

"Hermione, you're crying."

"You can't just--you--you can't just say those things," Hermione said, sounding choked, with her eyes still focused downward. "I mean, Harry, you told me to leave you alone. I--I--"

"I'm so sorry," Harry said softly. "Hermione, I'm so sorry. You have to believe me. I didn't mean it."

She nodded again. Harry closed his eyes with an overwhelming combination of guilt and pity. Opening them again, he took a deep breath and made a daring move: he tucked a loose curl behind her ear, grazing her jawline as he did so.

Glancing up to look at him, Hermione could see that he appeared to be truly sorry. His head was bent down and his shoulders were slumped disconsolately; when he moved to look at her, his eyes were very clear and he was biting his lip.

She looked down again, embarrassed, and Harry didn't know what to do to make her feel better.

He put gentle fingers beneath her chin and raised her head to look at him, so that they were lined up face-to-face. Hermione gave a tiny, shaky smile.

He kissed her.

***

Ginny shrugged her cloak over her shoulders and left her dorm room, which was empty, all of her dormmates being in the common room or the library. She cut through the Gryffindor common room, where Fred and George gave her curious looks and Ron frowned in confusion. Managing to duck out of the portrait hole before any of them reached her to question her, Ginny thanked her lucky stars that Percy was no longer at Hogwarts. All of her brothers were overprotective, but Percy was just plain obsessive.

Draco wasn't at the front staircase when Ginny arrived, so she stood and tapped her foot nervously and glanced around for him, fiddling with the edge seam of her cloak. She could feel her pulse beating in her throat, and swallowed back anxiety.

"Ginny," he said, from behind her. His voice was full and rich and for once he sounded happy, completely happy, as if she were fulfilling a lifetime dream of his by going out on a date with him.

When she turned around, he was holding a small pink envelope.

Ginny staggered back. It was Draco.

"You," she said. "It was you--all the roses--all summer long--"

"Yeah," he said, and she was surprised to see that he was blushing--Draco Malfoy, blushing--"I thought you would like them."

"I did. Oh, I loved them," said Ginny fervently. "They were beautiful."

"I wrote the poetry myself," he said sheepishly. " I know it was horrible, but I wanted it to be mine."

"I can't believe--why did you--"

"I like you," he said simply, stepping closer to her, and she could see the earnestness in his gray eyes. "I didn't know how else to say it, but I've always liked you."

Ginny laughed: a light, clear sound, pure as a bell. "I've never liked you. Not until this year, anyway."

He grinned, flashing perfectly straight teeth at her. "That's all right. As long as you do."

"I do," Ginny said, looking up at him with shining eyes. She felt as if she were literally glowing, as if Draco had said Lumos! to her and she had lit up.

Draco stared at her for a moment, and something changed in his eyes, but he turned abruptly and said cheerfully, "Shall we go?" and held out his arm to her.

She took it.