Innocence Lost and Found

When Harry, Ron, and Hermione were ushered somewhat unwillingly into the Gryffindor common room the night before the first day of classes, they were not especially surprised to see that the whole of the house was still awake and awaiting their return. News of the trial had naturally spread throughout the school, and no one doubted that the three students who had actually testified would treat them to a wonderful, dramatic, and possibly even accurate story.

They laid out the facts before their fellow Gryffindors, or rather Ron, the best story-teller of the three, laid out the facts with occasional input from Harry and Hermione. The attention and interest had finally begun to die down, and Harry was actually looking forward to heading up to his dormitory and going to sleep, when the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open and Professor McGonagall entered.

The bottom fell out of Harry's stomach. Professor McGonagall never entered the common room unless something was seriously wrong. What could have happened now?

‘Would all of the students in fourth year and below please go up to their dormitories for the night? And if any of the students in fifth year and above are upstairs already, would their roommates please bring them back down here?’ Scrambling ensued, but Professor McGonagall's commands had been obeyed soon enough.

‘I need to make an important announcement,’ she told the fifth, sixth, and seventh years, who had unconsciously arranged themselves by class while checking to see if roommates and classmates were present. ‘Your classes for tomorrow have been canceled.’ She looked so serious that the predictable whoop of delight never sounded. ‘Minister Fudge visited Hogwarts earlier today. It seems that the Ministry had decided that field trip is absolutely vital to your courses of learning.’

The students began to glance around at each other excitedly. Although their head-of-house sounded as though she believed a field trip was a ridiculous use of their time, they were thrilled at the prospect of leaving the castle for something other than a Hogsmeade weekend.

‘You are all aware, I'm sure, of the recent increase in Dark activity. Even a journey to tour Ministry offices,’ next to Harry, Ron rolled his eyes. He had seen the inside of Ministry offices more times than he cared to count. ‘can present a danger to so many young witches and wizards.’

Especially when one of them just so happens to be Harry Potter, Harry added to himself.

‘Because of the dangers, and because we don't trust you’ this earned an appreciative chuckle from the groups, especially from Fred and George Weasley ‘there will be a professor accompanying each of the twelve groups. Professor Cynthia Ryan, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor whom you met at the feast, will go with the seventh years. Professor Sinistra will go with the sixth years. I had intended to go with the fifth years myself, but due to my responsibilities as deputy headmistress, I simply cannot leave the school on the day after the first years arrive. We'll have to do some juggling to find an escort for you,’ she finished with a pointed look at the fifth years, who were sitting together atop a large homework table.

Blood rushed into Harry's ears. He knew exactly who he wanted for his escort, if he had to have one, and he was trying to think of an appropriate way to phrase his request when Ron raised his hand.

‘Yes, Weasley?’

‘As long as Professor Lupin is here, can't he take us?’

‘Since you testified at the trial, I suppose I can't tell you that that is an unfounded rumor.’

‘No.’ Ron shook his head.

‘In fact, I'm guessing that you told all of Gryffindor House about this evening's events. Hopefully your story bore some resemblance to the truth.’

‘Some,’ Ron agreed hopefully.

‘I would like to allow Professor Lupin to accompany you, but there are complications of which you are all very well aware.’

‘But it's not like we'll be going in the middle of the night. The full moon isn't even for over a week,’ Seamus Finnigan broke in, adding his voice of support to Ron's.

‘That may be, but how would your parents feel about this, Finnigan?’

‘They wouldn't care. My Dad isn't even a wizard. If they think Muggles should accept wizards and wizards should accept Muggles, they also think everyone should accept werewolves. They said so.’

Dean Thomas took up from his best friend before Professor McGonagall could even comment on Seamus' statement. ‘I'm Muggle-born. So are Lavender and Hermione. None of our parents have any prejudices against werewolves. Why would they?’ Lavender and Hermione nodded earnestly, and Parvati Patil, the last female member of the Gryffindor fifth years, caught her breath and spoke up.

‘My parents are a witch and a wizard. Everyone in our family has been magical as far back as anyone can remember, but I know my parents owled the school in support of Professor Lupin when he left. I know because Padma and I signed the letter, too, and we let the owl go ourselves! There must be some way you can check that.’

Neville Longbottom, who was often quiet, spoke up, too. ‘My Gran didn't care, as long as he could actually teach me something. And he could.’

Harry's grin had grown broader as each of his friends has spoken. ‘I don't think I need to tell you what my family thinks of him,’ he said.

‘No, you don't, Potter.’ Professor McGonagall's expression had changed to something like pride. ‘You all make a very convincing case.’

‘He's the best Defense Against the Dark Arts professor we've ever had,’ declared Lavender.

‘And not just because he's the only one who wasn't, you know, mad,’ added Hermione.

Professor McGonagall raked her eyes over the group once more. ‘Are you sure about this?’

‘Yes!’ Eight voices sounded as one: Seamus' made distinctive by his accent, Ron's and Dean's rather louder than they needed to be, Neville's quiet but firm, Hermione's and Harry's almost pleading, Parvati's and Lavender's assertive.

‘You want me to look into this?’

‘YES!’

‘All right. I'll be back in ten minutes or so to let you know what's happened.’

The ten minutes passed slowly as some of the sixth and seventh years wandered upstairs to bed and the others complained about the luck of the fifth years. Professor Lupin had been a favorite professor of almost everyone who was not associated with Slytherin House. Finally, though, Professor McGonagall returned, smiling, and before she could give a verbal answer, Seamus and Dean had begun to high-five each other.

When the eight at last went to bed that night, they did so happily.

As happy as he had been to go to sleep after an exhausting day, Harry awoke early the next morning and knew that he had no chance of falling asleep again. Yawning and annoyed, he dressed quietly and went to the common room to wait for the real beginning of the day. Glancing around the room, though, he noticed that he was not alone. Parvati was sitting by the fire, writing on a bit of parchment.

‘Parvati? Are you all right?’ She whipped her head around at the sound of his voice, and brushed her curtain of black hair, not yet pulled into its usual braid, out of her way.

‘Fine. How are you?’

‘Tired. It's kind of early.’

‘Couldn't sleep?’ He shook his head. ‘Me either. I decided not to wake up Hermione and Lavender out of spite, so here I am.’ She paused as if considering Harry. ‘I didn't see you yesterday except when we were trying to get Professor Lupin to come with us today, but I wanted to say congratulations on being a prefect.’

‘Thanks.’ He must have stared at her for a beat longer than had been necessary, because she gave him a questioning glance.

‘What?’

‘What? Nothing. I thought you were still upset with me over the Yule Ball last year.’ He managed not to blush, because even if he was bringing up one of the most horribly embarrassing moments of his life, Parvati was Parvati, and had been around for all of his Hogwarts career even if they had never been close friends.

‘I was for a while, but that was a long time ago.’ She made a face at Harry. ‘You didn't have to act like dancing with me once was that much of a chore.’

‘I didn't!’ She looked at him hard. ‘Maybe I did, but it wasn't personal, and it isn't as if you were any better,’ he added, suddenly feeling defensive even though he had brought up the subject. ‘You just wanted to go with a champion so you could open the ball and have everyone look at you. That's probably the only reason you even came with me.’

To Harry's great shock, Parvati started giggling. While she and her best friend Lavender spent a good portion of their time giggling for the most part, she had been almost angry a moment before. ‘You're right that I wanted to lead the ball,’ she answered through her laughter. Then she made an obvious effort to calm down. ‘But I would have gone with you anyway. I'd have gone with any of the boys in our house and year. You're a nice lot, really.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Don't let it go to your head.’ Parvati threw Harry a smile before beginning to plait her hair. She was glad that she had already put on her makeup; she was not fond of anyone outside her roommates seeing her without it, even though Harry did not seem like the type to notice. He noticed very little about girls and women unless they were named Cho Chang; but, she mused, he had probably gotten over his extremely obvious and no less entertaining crush on Cho after the disastrous end of the Triwizard Tournament that had taken place the previous year.

It was too bad that Harry had had such a rough life, because he was, before all other things, an overwhelmingly decent human being. He deserved to be treated in kind. The nastiest behavior she had ever seen him display, except when he was provoked by miserable Draco Malfoy, had actually been this morning's comment that she had only attended the Yule Ball with him because he had been a champion. He had been wrong, but the remark could as easily have grown out of insecurity as meanness. Those explanations seemed equally unlikely.

After all, Harry could have been much harsher on Parvati. He could have brought up the fact that she had spent a good portion of that night's dinner glaring at Hermione-- her roommate and one of his best friends-- for reasons entirely grounded in vanity. Parvati was a pretty girl, and she worked hard at being beautiful. Daily makeup regimens and careful choices of clothing took up a good deal of her time. Hermione had had no business attempting to out-do her when she already out-did everyone in academic situations. Furthermore, Hermione should not have kept her plans for the Yule Ball a secret from her roommates. That wasn't the way things were done; but Hermione didn't care. Her token female friend was Ron's little sister Ginny, and she seemed to like it that way.

Just as Parvati tied off her braid with a bright pink rubber band that had been waiting on her wrist, stomping sounds began to emanate from the dormitory stairs. The first group of Gryffindors were on their way to breakfast, and among them were Seamus and Lavender.

‘Harry,’ called Seamus. ‘We saw you weren't in the room. We were looking for you.’

‘Not very hard, obviously,’ Harry returned pleasantly.

‘It's still early. Coming to breakfast?’

‘Waiting for Ron.’

‘He's on his way. Come on, Lavender, Parvati.’

Parvati went off to breakfast with her best friend and her best friend's boyfriend, but as the two became more and more interested in expressing their affection for each other, she felt like more and more of a third wheel. As thrilled as she was to see Professor Lupin-- his lycanthropy did not bother her nearly as much as Mad-Eye Moody's fake eye had-- she did not enjoy the walk into Hogsmeade or the Floo Powder trip to the village in which the Ministry offices were located.

Glancing around as the group headed toward the offices, she saw that Neville was earnestly explaining something to Dean, who, being a Muggle-born, frequently asked questions that even Neville, who had a terrible memory and no scholastic aptitude except in Herbology, could answer. Parvati assumed that Dean's interest in whatever subject they were discussing was doing Neville good, so she did not want to join them any more than she wanted to remain with love-starved Lavender and Seamus. Hermione and Ron were bickering as always, and Harry was walking beside them, allowing their words to wash over him without paying a great deal of attention. Perhaps she could walk with him, then. They had been talking earlier that morning, after all.

She slipped away from Lavender and Seamus unnoticed and sidled up beside Harry. He turned to look at her. ‘Hi,’ he said by way of greeting.

‘Hi. Having fun yet?’

‘Any day we miss Potions is a good day.’

‘I agree. Oh . . .’ she looked beyond Harry to the street, and his eyes followed her gaze. The Slytherin fifth years were walking down the opposite side of the road, looking haughty and unpleasant as they always did. Seeing that Harry had noticed him, Draco Malfoy instantly began to yell.

‘HEY, POTTER! AREN'T YOU AFRAID TO BE OUT OF THE CASTLE? DUMBLEDORE ISN'T HERE TO PROTECT YOU, NOT THAT HE DOES SUCH A GOOD JOB ANYWAY!’

‘HEY, PARVATI!’ yelled pug-faced Pansy Parkinson, who had been draped over Malfoy's arm, as usual. ‘YOU MIGHT NOT WANT TO STAND SO CLOSE TO POTTER! THEY MIGHT GET YOU WHEN THEY COME FOR HIM! IT'S SAFER WITH US!’

‘IT'S A NEW AGE!’ Malfoy began before whatever professor was walking with the Slytherins succeeded in shutting them up.

‘Thank you for not responding,’ said Professor Lupin, who had been attempting to settle a reasonably playful dispute between Hermione and Ron when the shouting had begun. His words seemed to be enough to calm down Seamus, Dean, and Ron, all of whom had looked ready to charge across the street and respond with their fists.

Parvati wondered why Harry hadn't been preparing to fight, as well. Ordinarily he flatly refused to let Malfoy have the last word. ‘It's amazing that they just get worse with age,’ she said conversationally, wondering if Harry would react.

‘I know.’ Then he looked straight at her, and green eyes met black. ‘Did you know them before you came to Hogwarts?’

‘Unfortunately. Pansy grew up practically next door to Padma and me. Our parents were always telling us to play with the nice little witch down the road-- you know, parents of twins are always worried about how they'll have trouble learning to relate to other people because they always have each other. Especially if there are no other children in the family, just the twins. Pansy's father and Lucius Malfoy have all kinds of dealing together, so Malfoy was always over visiting Pansy. They practically have an arranged marriage, did you know?’

Harry looked dumbfounded. ‘No, I didn't.’

‘It's more Pansy's father that really wants it, and she'll do anything to make him happy. She'd also like to be the next Mrs. Malfoy. The power, the money, all of that. Draco's father, he might back out of the arrangement. He'll do whatever's convenient.’

‘Wow.’

‘It's not that unusual among old wizarding families, especially ones that are involved in Dark Arts.’

‘He's involved in Dark Arts?’ Harry asked keenly.

‘Come on Harry, you had to know that.’

‘But do you know anything more?’

‘You mean did Malfoy used to practice Avada Kedavra on spiders in front of me or something? No. It's just that most families know which families were and weren't on their side in the last war.’

‘So why did they have their children play together?’

‘You-Know-Who was gone. It seemed like a moot point.’

‘Did you ever have fun together?’

‘Not that I can remember. Maybe when we were very young, but I don't think so. It was maybe easier on me than on Padma because Pansy was always picking on her, not on me. I didn't notice what she'd been doing until years later, but she was always finding a way of complimenting me to make Padma feel bad. Just saying things like I was the tough one or the pretty one, but not that bluntly.’

‘Aren't you identical?’

‘Yes. That doesn't mean one of us can't be prettier. Can't you tell Fred and George Weasley apart even though they're technically identical?’

‘Sometimes, I guess.’

‘Well, we spent enough time with Pansy that she could always tell us apart. It's unnerving.’

‘Oh.’

‘And since she could tell us apart, she must have thought that one of us was prettier.’

Harry was hard-pressed to respond to Parvati's comments, but a memory had just sprung into his head that, in light of this new information, made much more sense. It had been his very first flying lesson, which naturally had always stood out in his mind, but never in quite this way.

Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madame Hooch, who had her arm around him.

No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter.

‘Did you see his face, the great lump?’

The other Slytherins joined in.

‘Shut up, Malfoy,’ snapped Parvati Patil.

‘Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?’ said Pansy Parkinson. ‘Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati.’

Harry's impromptu character analysis of Parvati ended abruptly when he heard Remus shout at him to get down. He had no time to react before the street seemed to explode. Blinded by the dust that suddenly coated his glasses, he fell low to the ground, instinctively reaching for Parvati to pull her down as well, but she was gone. He clawed at his eyes, trying to see Ron, Hermione, someone, but he saw nothing other than crimson puddles of blood forming on the pavement. The pavement itself seemed to be shaking as if a dragon had been released into the busy streets of the village, but that couldn't be, or could it? The smell of a dragon was not easily forgotten.

Worst of all, although he couldn't see it, Harry was as sure as he had ever been of anything that the Dark Mark was lofting lazily above them.