Prisoners of Our Minds

Lady you berefit me of all words,
Only my blood speaks to you in my veins,
And there is such confusion in my powers.

William Shakespeare

Draco sighed as he paced the floor of his bedroom. What a horribly tedious day, he thought irritably. Draco rubbed his sore eyes. It was tiring work, trudging listlessly from class to class- first Care of Magical Creatures, then Arithmancy, then Charms, then Potions, then Transfiguration. He winced as a small droplet of blood trickled into his mouth. The metallic taste washed over his taste buds. Ron had hit him hard. But he was not about to admit that he was hurt. Stupid Weasel, his mind snarled. Draco ran a hand through his pale hair and rubbed his temples. There was so much on his mind these days. One thought ran into another until his brain shrivelled from fear and fatigue. I need more sleep, he thought miserably. Uninterrupted, dreamless sleep. I can't stand these dreams anymore. I can't keep this up for much longer. He sighed. Of late, his dreams have been marred with strange images of a silver haired man. The stranger frequently spoke to him in a cold raspy voice. His eyes burned of a hatred so deep that Draco could not fathom its' origins. And sometimes the voice took hold of his body, although he could never recollection the event. It was like a part of his life was taken away and he had no control over it. People have been noticing these strange occurrences. People were beginning to talk. Crowds of Slytherins would whisper and point at him as he crossed the common room. Draco hated the rumours, the whispers, the lies. He frowned and sat down on his bed. I have to make these voices stop, he thought. People can't think I'm the heir of Slytherin. I can't be the heir. There is an existing heir and I'm nothing like him.

Draco glanced up and caught his reflection in the mirror. Are you sure? A sadistic voice taunted. You are a death eater after all. You are Lucius' son. You have pledged your allegiance to the Dark Lord. You are nothing but his pathetic little puppet. You've killed for him. You are a murderer. The mark on your arm bears witness to your heinous crime.

Draco shook his head violently. He had no choice. He did not wish to be a death eater. He had to comply. He did not want to kill. He was made to do it. He could not resist. He could not run away! Don't lie! You're just weak! His mind roared. You create all these pretty little excuses when in reality you have no wish to defy your father or the Dark Lord. You're a coward hiding behind a façade of malice. You are nothing. Not even the mudbloods are afraid of you. Look at yourself! You're trembling. You know your will is weakening. You are their slave, the slave of Lucius, of the Dark Lord. You will always be a slave!

Draco stood up shakily. He looked away from the mirror in shame. He needed to get out. He did not want to confront his thoughts. Hastily, Draco grabbed a green towel and headed for the prefects' bathroom. There he could stay undisturbed. The warm bath would help sooth his aching body. Perhaps he would even fall asleep. He climbed the steps quickly and hurrid down the fifth floor corridor. Draco came to a stop in front of the portrait.

"Beach bubbles," he said. The door swung open and Draco walked in. He set his towel down against the far wall. Slowly he undressed, leaving his robes in a puddle beside his towel. He padded over to the large tub and climbed in. The water was just the right temperature. Draco sighed in delight as he settled into the tub. He ducked his head under water and wet his hair. The bubbles soothed his aching limbs. Languidly, he kicked the water with one foot, making tiny little splashes. His rested his head against a comfortable nook of the tub. Soon, to his surprise, Draco drifted into a deep sleep. As his fluttering lashes settled against his pale cheeks, a dream began to unfold.

Draco found himself standing on a lush green field. He looked around curiously. There was something familiar about this place. His eyes widened. It was the school quidditch field, but the goals were strangely absent. It was as if the game had not yet been invented. Off in the distance was Hogwarts. The castle looked oddly new. Draco blinked. He knew he was dreaming but everything appeared so real. He turned to face the Forbidden Forest. It was as dark and imposing as in real life. A solitary figure stood on the edge of the horizon. Draco squinted, but he could not see the person clearly. He crept closer. The figure was practicing with his sword. The swish of the blades cut through the air. Draco shivered. He looked so graceful, so familiar. The figure turned at the sound of Draco's footsteps. He gazed upon Draco fondly and smiled. Draco paused in mid-step. His jaw dropped in surprise. It was Potter.

"Salazar, what is the matter?" came the stranger's voice.

Draco studied the stranger. He looked and sounded oddly like Potter. But he could not have been Potter. Potter would not smile at him. Potter would not call him Salazar. Draco shook his head in annoyance. And he most certainly would not dream of Harry Potter.

"I have come to tell you my plans," Draco replied. He looked at the stranger and felt an odd sense of familiarity. "Rowena is by the lake. She is in quite a state. You must console her." Draco paused briefly. "I am leaving."

Draco was surprised by his own words. His voice was sharp and chilling. He greeted this stranger with such contempt and hatred that it startled Draco. H e had never seen the man before. He could not explain the animosity. And Rowena, who was she? Surely she was not the Founder. Draco frowned. These dreams were ridiculous.

The man watched Draco intently. An air of sadness crept into his voice. "I knew it would only be a matter of time. But would you not reconsider?"

Draco shook his head. "I have been considering this for long enough. There is little you can say to contain me," he said coldly.

The man began to struggle with his emotions. "Indeed Salazar," he said quietly. "Then I bid you farewell. I hope that all your endeavours will be fruitful."

Draco sneered. "Don't be foolish Godric. Hope is a dangerous thing. Be careful what you say for you may live to regret these utterances."

The man Draco called Godric smiled. His eyes showed great compassion and kindness. "Perhaps Salazar. But then, I may also live long enough to see you change your mind. I shall wait for such a day."

Draco sneered in derision and turned away from the optimistic man. A sense of irritation took over. Draco could not understand the rising emotion. After all, the man was nothing but a stranger to him.

"Goodbye Godric. Cherish what little time you have left. Take care of Rowena," Draco said, not turning around. He prepared to leave.

"We will meet again Salazar," Godric called out. Draco stopped and turned. Godric placed his sword into the scabbard. "The magic that binds us is too strong. We are destined to never part. We shall meet in another life."

"The you are a greater fool than I had expected!" Draco hissed angrily. "Your values and ideals make you weak. I want no part of it. There will be no other life for me, for I will become immortal. Your bones will turn to dust as I live on through the ages. We will never meet again from this day forth. Hogwarts will fall. My minions will slaughter your precious muggles and their screams shall haunt the night. Be prepared Godric. There will be no harmony. No peace. Only power and I at its' helm to wield it." Draco turned away from Godric once again to walk away.

But Godric ran to him swiftly and grabbed his arm. "Salazar," he pleaded. His resonant voice penetrated Draco's skin. "Give me your hand."

Draco stared at the man. A scowl crept onto his face. "No," he hissed. "Now let me by!"

"No," Godric said firmly. "I shall not until you give me your hand."

Draco snorted impatiently. Against all better judgement, Draco placed his hand in Godric's outstretched palm. The two clasped hands. "Nothing lasts forever," Godric said as he looked into Draco's eyes. "But our friendship will surpass time. One day we will save each other. The prophecy is written in the stars. You never look at the stars anymore Salazar, but look tonight and it will speak to you. The star will sing of our friendship, such is the depth of our pact. One day when the road appears bleak and life seems worthless, you will call for me. And I will be there. I promise you."

Draco withdrew his hand in contempt. "You pathetic sentimentalist," he spat. "I don't need you. And I shall never call for you. You have made me weak. At last I have freed myself from your shackles. Goodbye Godric, forget you ever knew me. Forget we were ever friends."

Draco stalked off across the field. The dejected Godric stood with his head bowed behind Draco. A sinister glint touched the blonde boy's face. A cold smile curled at the corner of his lips...

But his dream was interrupted by a loud shriek. Draco opened his eyes lazily. A cloud of steam rose in front of his eyes and interfered with his vision. But he sensed a presence. He sat up in alarm and squinted through the haze. It was a girl, a girl with bushy brown hair. It was Granger.

Draco blinked in surprise. Then a smug smile spread across his face. "Granger, do have the decency to turn around," he drawled. The frightened Gryffindor obediently faced the wall. Draco snickered. Slowly he rose from the steamy tub and padded over to his towel. He quickly wrapped the towel around his waist and shook his hair dry. He saw Granger shaking with embarrassment.

"You can turn around now," Draco announced.

Slowly, the bushy haired girl turned around and looked to the ground. She was afraid to meet Draco's eyes. He smirked inwardly. Stupid girl, Draco thought. Think of the scandal if precious Potter and that lovesick Weasel found out. How would she ever explain herself? Trapped in the prefects' bathroom with me in nothing but a towel.

Draco watched Hermione's eyes wander nervously. Finally her gaze settled on a single spot. She seemed completely mesmerised by it. Her expression changed from one of embarrassment to one of abject horror. Draco felt a wave of annoyance as she stood there gaping at him. Malfoys are not to be gazed upon rudely, especially by those of an inferior rank. "Granger, do close your mouth it's rude to stare," he drawled arrogantly.

The girl backed away from him. She shook her head slowly in disbelief. Her eyes were fixated upon a spot on his forearm. Draco watched as she stumbled backwards. What is she doing? He thought quizzically. Slowly, he followed her gaze. He looked down his long arm. His gaze wandered down the long stretch of milky white skin. Then he saw it; the pulsating black skull on his forearm. Oh bloody Merlin! His mind screamed. She's seen the dark mark!

"Granger-" he began.

"Stay away!" she screamed and bolted for the door.

He cursed and ran after her. The wet tiles made him skid disgracefully into the walls. Draco chased the girl out into the corridors. He ran as fast as he could. At the top of the stairs, he was able to grab hold of her arm. She struggled. He pulled her away from the stairs forcefully and pushed her up against the wall. His hands strengthened their grip on her arms. Draco gasped for breath as the girl struggled desperately.

"Granger," he gasped. "You have to listen to me."

"No!" she screamed. "Let me go. Please, I won't tell anyone. I promise. You're hurting me!"

Draco looked at the girl in pain. He released his grip a little. "Alright, I'll let go. But you must promise not to run away."

She looked at him in fear. "There's nothing you could possibly say to me. Why don't you let me go?"

"Because you have to understand," he said desperately as he released his grip. "You have to know the truth. I didn't want this." He gestured at the dark mark. "It was forced upon me."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him in disbelief. Draco noticed that she had her hand on the hilt of her wand. Her wand was under her robes and its' tip was pointed at Draco. She did not trust him. And she has good reason not to, he thought sadly. The dark mark glowed hideously on his forearm. Draco sighed. He looked into the eyes of the frightened Gryffindor and began his story. The story of Lucius' cruelty; the imprisonment of his helpless mother; the order of the Dark Lord; and his gruesome sacrifice, they tumbled out of his mouth seemingly without end. Draco longed to tell someone of his ordeal. But he could not have imagined his audience. Granger's eyes widened in horror as Draco recounted the murder of the Lilyfield girl. She backed away from him as far as possible. If she retreated any further she would have melted into the walls.

"They're looking for you," she whispered fearfully. "The Ministry, the aurors. Everyone. You're a murderer. You killed her and left her on her front doorstep. Her mother fainted at the sight of her body. There was so much blood. It's in the paper," she gasped. Her small body was trembling. "You'll be sent to Azkaban. They'll set the dementors on you."

Draco watched as the girl sidle away from him. He grabbed hold of her arm. She winced. "You don't understand!" he howled. "I was under the Imperius curse. I had no choice. I did not want to kill her."

"You expect me to believe that?" she screamed back. "You hate muggles! You and your father would love to see us all dead. She was just a child Malfoy. She had her teddy bear with her for Merlin's sake! How can you be so heartless?"

"I'm nothing like my father!" he roared. "I had no choice. Why don't you believe me? They forced it upon me. It was her or me. They were going to kill me Granger. What would you have done?"

She looked at him sadly. "I would rather die than lose my soul."

He sighed and looked to the ground. "You bloody Gryffindors, always so idealistic."

A silence followed. Draco felt his heart rate return to normal. An overwhelming sense of sadness engulfed him. Of course she would not believe him. It was just as Lucius had said. He was a murderer. The wizarding world hated him. Hated death eaters and murderers. And he was both.

A hand reached for his arm. He looked down in surprise. Granger peered into his grey eyes. "Prove it to me," she whispered.

Draco blinked in surprise. "How?" he asked grimly.

Hermione pursed her lips. "I don't know," she said. She stopped to ponder the situation. "I could use Veritaserum on you. But that's not legal for underage wizards. I'll think about it and I'll be watching you. If you do anything that arouses my suspicions, I'll hex you to matchsticks."

Draco nodded dismally. Her requests were fair.

"So what are you going to do now?" she asked.

Draco shrugged miserably. "I don't know," he mumbled.

"I think you should tell Dumbledore," she stated matter-of-factly. "He will know what to do."

"No!" Draco said a panicky voice. "If Lucius finds out, my mother is as well as dead. She's in the Dark Lord's dungeon. I'm going to find her. I just need some time."

Hermione looked at him quizzically. "Do you know where Voldemort is?"

Draco shook his head. "Then you'll need to find out," she announced. "We also need a plan."

"We?" Draco asked with a sneer. "This doesn't involve you."

"Too bad," she said. "You need my help. And I need yours. Voldemort has Madame Maxime. There's no telling what he'll do to her. We need information so that the Ministry can do something about it. But we don't know where she is. Chances are she's with your mother."

Draco nodded in agreement. A terrible thought struck him. "You're not going to tell Potter are you?"

Hermione thought for a moment. "No," she said. "He hates you too much. He'd probably kill you on the spot."

Draco smirked. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Hermione shook her head in frustration. "Go to bed Malfoy before you catch a cold. I'll think of something." With that, the girl walked away from Draco and disappeared down the stairs.

Draco leaned against the cold sandstone wall and gazed at the ceiling. I hope I've done the right thing, he thought. Telling Granger everything might not have been the best idea. She could betray him at any moment. He did not relish the thought of being blackmailed. But then not everyone's as cunning as a Slytherin, he thought hopefully. Draco plodded down the stairs slowly. The air grew chilly as he approached the dungeons. The figure of a girl stood outside the Slytherin common room. She was hopping from foot to foot impatiently. It was Granger.

"What are you doing here Granger?" he asked in a tired voice.

The girl looked up at him with a stern expression. "I want you to promise me something," she said.

Draco shot her a look of disdain. "I make no promises."

Hermione glared at him. "I will help you under the one condition that you will not harm Harry or Ron. You must promise me that."

Draco looked at her coolly. "Or else what Granger?"

She rolled her eyes. "You can't afford to be insolent right now. There's no telling what I'll do so don't push me," she said firmly.

Draco considered the possibility. The girl knew too much. "Alright Granger, we have a deal," he drawled. "I will not harm your precious friends. But I make no other promises."

Hermione tensed. "I know Voldemort will order you to do his bidding. I only hope you have the courage to withstand his orders." She scrutinised Draco closely. "Once your mother is free you will have no excuses. You will have to renounce Voldemort or there will be consequences. Mark my words Malfoy; Harry will destroy Voldemort. Then he will bring the death eaters to justice. Choose your side wisely."

Draco shot the girl an angry glare before she walked back up the stairs. He paused outside the Slytherin common room and pondered Granger's words. How can she be so sure that Harry will destroy the Dark Lord? He thought. He is just a boy after all. And how will we rescue my mother? How can Granger be so confident that we can get to the Dark Lord's lair? Draco shook his head and sighed. Granger is too optimistic. Gryffindors are all delusional like that. The portrait swung open and Draco walked in. He headed for his bedroom listlessly. A headache pounded against his skull incessantly.

Draco walked into his bedroom. A loud screech greeted him. He looked up to see an eagle owl perched on his windowsill. It was Lucius' regal bird. Draco scowled as he untied the letter from the owl's leg. He did not relish the thought of Lucius' letter. They always bore ill news. Draco unfolded the letter carefully.

"Draco,

All plans for the capture of Neville Longbottom and Susan Bones are in order. You will produce both children on the 30^th of September. The floo networks will be open at midnight. Make sure that you are not seen. Come directly to the Manor. I will be waiting to collect the captives. Do not fail me Draco. The Dark Lord will be thoroughly displeased with your incompetence. Your mother sends her salutations.

Lucius Malfoy."

He reread the letter before scrunching it up and throwing it into the fire. Unbeknownst to Draco, the letter escaped the flames and bounded to the back of the grate. The undisturbed parchment remained concealed behind the logs of wood. Draco paced his bedroom nervously. He debated whether to tell Granger the plan. No, his mind reasoned. Granger will surely talk you out of it. But if you fail to do the Dark Lord's bidding, your mother will suffer the consequences. You need more time. Besides, Granger only asked you to spare Potter and Weasel. She said nothing about the other students. Draco grinned wickedly. It helped to be a Slytherin at times.

Draco padded over to his bed and sank into the folds of his sheets. He let out a long, satisfied sigh. Soon his eyes shut. The opaque grey orbs were put to rest behind the dark curtains of the night. With a small smile on his lips, the Slytherin fell into a dreamless sleep.

*

Remus Lupin sat patiently in the Headmaster's office. He looked up at the old Headmasters of Hogwarts, most of them were snoring happily in their portraits. A few studious, diligent Professors were reading earnestly. Lupin grinned at them and waved. It was good to be back at Hogwarts. A part of him never left the walls of the school. His curiosity knew no bounds. Little of him has changed overtime. But that's not true, he thought sadly. Losses change people. They change people irrevocably.

"Good morning Remus," Dumbledore said cheerfully. The Headmaster appeared from behind the startled Professor. "I hope you haven't been waiting long. I did not see you at breakfast today."

Lupin nodded. "I wasn't particularly hungry. These days have been very taxing," he murmured.

Dumbledore gave Lupin a sympathetic look. "Yes, so I have heard. I hope Snape will have that Wolfsbane ready by tonight. When is the transformation?"

"A little while yet," Lupin replied. "It begins on the thirteenth and it will last until the fifteenth. It will end on the night of the blue moon."

Dumbledore smiled delightfully. "Blue moons are a fascinating time of the year. So rare they are too. Only once in seven years do they appear. Blue moons call to the adventurous at heart. Great mischief will stir on that night."

Lupin looked at the Headmaster uncertainly. It was as if the old man relished the thought of mischief. He shook his head. "No moon appeals to me," he said quietly.

"Of course Remus," Dumbledore said soothingly. "But all things come to an end. It will be over sooner than you anticipate."

Lupin nodded glumly. All things must come to an end, like Sirius. Oh Sirius, his mind cried, may the fates be kind to you in another life. Oh Merlin, how I miss you. Remus cleared his throat and blinked back the tears. "Is there you want to discuss with me Headmaster?" he asked.

"Yes," Dumbledore replied. "But we must wait for Severus, Minerva and Arthur Weasley."

Remus blinked in surprise. "Is this an Order meaning?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Not as such Remus." At that moment, Snape and McGonagall walked swiftly into the room, Arthur Weasley followed them. "Ah, right on time," Dumbledore beamed.

"You called for us Albus?" McGonagall asked. She conjured some chairs and the visitors sat down.

"Indeed Minerva. I'm afraid I have some bad news," Dumbledore said gravely. He peered through his half-moon glasses at his audience. "I'm afraid that the Wizengamot and the International Confederation of Wizards have once again called for my resignation." Dumbledore produced two pieces of parchments. Remus peered at them in disbelief. They were indeed from the Wizengamot and the International Confederation of Wizards calling for Dumbledore's resignation.

"What?" McGonagall exclaimed. "Not again? Is it Fudge meddling like last time?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I'm afraid not Minerva. The intent is far more sinister this time. Fudge was afraid for his position. The witches and wizards who signed this document want to control the Ministry and the law."

Remus gasped. Snape scowled darkly beside him. Arthur nodded. "It's true," he agreed. "It's the Dark Lord meddling. There are death eaters everywhere in the Ministry. You can't walk two steps without seeing one. They've been given access to all levels of the Ministry. They have all the documents, all the keys and all the rights of Fudge himself."

"That's absurd!" Remus cried. "Death eaters, in the Ministry? Even Fudge wouldn't stand for that. How did this happen?"

"They've threatened Fudge I reckon," Arthur replied. "He hasn't been to his office for two days. The death eaters are acting like they own the place! They enter the Minister's office freely to sign documents and pass decrees. It's a circus. That man Travers, the death eater that was never convicted, is running the place. Yesterday he acquitted all the death eaters who have recently escaped Azkaban. Can you believe it? Acquitted!" Arthur Weasley looked like he was about to explode. His face was pink and flushed. His eyes narrowed angrily.

"It's alright Arthur," Dumbledore soothed. "We will try to remedy the situation as best we can." He turned to address the rest of them. "The situation stands thus. The death eaters have penetrated the British courts of law. They called for my resignation earlier this morning. It is sufficient to say that the death eaters are working most efficaciously. Control over the Ministry means control over the Daily Prophet. Needless to say, there is no news on the recent event. Unfortunately for us, Voldemort is also rapidly gathering support internationally. The International Confederation of Wizards requested my resignation last night. Therefore we can safely say that Voldemort has control over the Confederation. I must confess that I fear the worst. We must act before Voldemort's plan comes into fruition and yet there is little time to spare."

Remus looked discouragingly at the ground. The situation seemed hopeless.

"What do you propose we do?" Snape's cutting voice broke the silence.

"I think it is time for a group meeting at Grimmauld Place. We need more support. There are many witches and wizards who fear Voldemort too much to act. But there are those few who have mastered their fear and will fight on our side. Arthur, I leave the Ministry to you. Gather as much support as possible. Remus, in your spare time please contact all your friends from Hogwarts. Severus, I leave you to find Voldemort's whereabouts. Rumour has it that he resides in a secluded fortress deep in the heart of Europe. Can you verify that rumour Severus?"

Snape looked at the Headmaster uncomfortably. "I can't verify anything," he said darkly. "There is little that the Dark Lord tells me these days. He doubts my loyalty. However, very few death eaters have seen the fortress. It's well hidden from his friends and foes alike. I imagine Wormtail and Lucius are aware of its' whereabouts. I shall see what I can gather."

Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "Again Severus, your safety is of great concern to me. You have my full support should you wish to abstain from your current position."

Snape shook his head vigorously. "No Headmaster, I think I am still of value to the Order in my current position. Give me a little time."

Dumbledore looked at Snape with a grateful smile. "As you wish Severus."

"Well what about me Albus?" McGonagall spoke up. "Is there anything I can offer to the Order?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Of course Minerva, I should loath to incur your wrath by ignoring you. You and I must visit the Wizengamot and the International Confederation of Wizards as soon as possible. There are some old friends who maybe able to help us. So long as they hold the majority of the votes in the court, Voldemort cannot have full control of the law." The Headmaster turned to the others. "I have called a meeting at Grimmauld Place tonight at eight o'clock. There are some more duties I need to delegate. I shall see you at the appointed time."

The Professors and Arthur prepared to leave. As Remus was heading for the door, Dumbledore called him back.

"A word if you please Remus," Dumbledore said kindly.

Remus turned to the great wizard respectfully. "Yes Headmaster?"

"I understand you have the Gryffindors and Slytherins in your next class?" he asked.

Lupin nodded. "I must ask you to teach both houses all that you know. These are dangerous times and I would prefer the children to be prepared," Dumbledore said. He gave Lupin a serious look. "The Gryffindor sixth years have four classes with the Slytherins. Things are bound to get out of hand. I feel the need to warn you that ill-temper and hostility are sure to flare in your class."

Lupin managed a weak smile. "I'll try my best Headmaster to teach them all that I know," he said sincerely. Lupin bid the old Headmaster farewell and headed for the first floor. He found the students already seated. The Gryffindors let out a loud cheer as Lupin entered the room. Lupin found himself blushing profusely. Some Gryffindors were already informed that he was teaching the class. He looked down at Harry, Hermione, Ron and Neville who were beaming at him happily. The Slytherins muttered darkly amongst themselves. Lucius' son, Draco, shot him an arrogant look before turning to his books. Lupin smiled at the whole class warmly.

"Welcome to your first Defence Against the Dark Arts Class sixth years. You may still remember me, but for those who don't, I am Remus Lupin. You can call me Lupin and my office is always open to those in need of help. My office is still on the second floor. Now, the lesson plan Dumbledore has provided me appears most challenging. We will be dealing with in depth defence strategies against the darkest magic. I understand that your regular DADA classes have been regularly disrupted, but I feel you will all catch up with the course in no time. Now, I hope you've all read chapter three on the Displacius spell. Can anyone tell me its' use?"

Lupin looked around the classroom. Hermione's hand shot up immediately. The Slytherins snickered at her. Surprisingly, Ron also raised his hand. Lupin winked at Hermione and picked Ron to answer.

"Well," Ron began uncertainly. "It's a spell that shifts the mind from one place to another. It sort of removes the mind from the body. Is that right?"

Lupin grinned pleasantly. "That's absolutely right Ron. Ten points to Gryffindor."

Ron beamed proudly. Harry patted him on his shoulder. "The Displacius spell is a useful guard against the Cruciatus Curse, one of the three Unforgivable Curses. The user effectively creates a shield around his or her mind when they enunciate displacio. For a short time, the Displacius spell suspends feeling in the body. The mind continues to function, but the body is protected from all pain and hexes. When you cast this spell, you must rest your mind. Think of safety and peace, and try to ignore the current situation as much as possible. Unfortunately, the spell only lasts a short time. It is physically and mentally taxing for the user. Very few witches and wizards recast the spell more than twice. However, in desperate situations this spell has proven to be most useful."

The class looked at him with interest. Even the Slytherins started to listen. Lupin continued. "The Displacius spell protects the user from all kinds of hexes and curses, except the Avada Kedavra. In a moment I will ask you to form into pairs. Each of you will practice the Displacius spell in turn. Your partner will cast the Tickling Charm, otherwise known as Rictusempra. You will try to avoid the charm using the Displacius spell. Once you have mastered the spell at its' simplest level, I will increase the severity of the hex. At no time will I allow the use of the Cruciatus Curse in my class. The closest I will permit is the Noceo Hex. Now please find a partner and we may begin."

The class obediently paired off. Many students grasped the concept of Displacius immediately. Most of the students successfully evaded the Tickling Charm. To his surprise, even Neville Longbottom showed remarkable talent for the spell. Lupin commended him and gave the boy five points. He then turned to Harry and Hermione.

"Hello," Lupin said. "How are you doing?"

"Well thanks," Harry said with a tight smile. "The spell should be useful."

Lupin looked at the boy closely. It seemed that a light had faded from his bright green eyes. he already thin boy seemed emaciated. A frown seemed permanently fixed upon his gaunt face. The light in his bright green eyes faded away with the growing sorrow in his heart. Lupin felt a wave of pity for the boy. "Yes it should," he said quietly. "I see you're mastering it quite well."

Harry grinned. "It isn't very hard with the Tickling Charm. But then it's designed for more powerful curses, like the Cruciatus," he said.

Lupin nodded. "We will try something a little more difficult in a moment," he replied. After a little while, Lupin called for the students to switch roles. Harry pointed his wand at Hermione.

"Rictusempra," Harry said.

"Displacio," Hermione said calmly. Her body absorbed the charm but her mind did not feel the tickling sensation. She grinned happily at Lupin. "It worked!" she said proudly. Lupin congratulated her and moved on to other students.

"Alright," he said after everyone had tried the spell. "Now you will try the Displacius spell against a harder hex. You will use the Blasting Curse on your partner. He or she will try to overcome that with the Displacius spell. Once you have had a turn, switch roles with your partner."

The class practiced the spell again eagerly. A few unsuccessful students hurtled across the room and slammed into the walls. No one was seriously hurt. The spell also helped to minimise the pain. Lupin sighed in relief. He helped a stunned looking Millicent Bulstrode to her feet. "You'll be alright," he said soothingly. "Have a seat and don't walk around for a little while." The girl grunted and collapsed into the nearest chair. Her partner Blaise Zabini rushed to her side. Lupin looked around the class. Most students needed a little work on their Displacius spells when confronted with a stronger hex. But many were making good progress.

The noise in the classroom raised several notches as the students became more absorbed in practicing the spell. Very few students paid attention to the large raven that flew into the room. It glided silently towards Draco Malfoy. Lupin watched with interest as the raven perched gracefully on the boy's shoulder. Draco looked up in surprised. The graceful boy studied the bird and noticed a piece of silver material tied to its' leg. He untied it quickly. Having delivered its' message, the raven hopped around and flapped away. Draco's eyes lit up with surprise as he looked at the torn piece of silver material.

"Draco," Lupin said as he approached the boy. "Please put that away, delivered messages are not allowed in class."

Draco looked up at the Professor and shot him a disdainful look. The boy quickly pocketed the material and to his desk. He began to scribble furiously on a piece of parchment. Lupin shrugged away his curiosity and returned his attention to the class.

"Alright class, that will do for today," Lupin called. "I will be expecting a foot long essay on the theoretical and practical developments of the Displacius Spell by next Monday."

The class returned to their desks and packed their things. Draco Malfoy was the first to head for the door. Lupin watched as the blonde boy approached Hermione and deliberately bumped into her.

"Watch where you're going Granger," he hissed. Draco scrunched up the piece of parchment and inconspicuously pressed it into Hermione's hand. The girl looked at him. Draco returned the curious look with a purposeful gaze before storming out the door.

"The nerve of that git!" Ron cursed.

"It's alright Ron," Hermione said as she quickly slid the parchment into her satchel. "Let's get to Charms." Slowly, the Gryffindors and Slytherins filed out of the classroom. Harry, Ron and Hermione waved to Lupin as they headed out the door. He grinned and waved back cheerfully.

After the last student walked out of his classroom, Lupin returned to his desk and rifled through his draws. He pulled out a chocolate bar and bit into it thoughtfully. Lupin furrowed his brows. Malfoy and Hermione, he pondered. Now what is going on there?

*

Narcissa Malfoy opened her swollen eyelids and peered out through the bars of her cell. Her vision was distorted. Everything appeared blurry and grey. Slowly, she pushed herself upright and winced. A sharp pain shot up her side. She clutched her stomach and groaned. The poison was taking effect. She had struggled fiercely against it. But she had been defenceless against the death eaters who forced the toxic liquid down her throat. It was burning her flesh slowly from the inside. It would surely kill her.

"Sleeping beauty wakes at last," Lucius drawled coldly. He was leaning against a pillar opposite the cell.

Narcissa looked up at her captor and snarled. "You monster. You will pay for this."

Lucius laughed uproariously. "How melodramatic of you my dear. You are hardly in a position to issue threats. After all, I am not the one dying slowly of an incurrable poison."

Narcissa shot Lucius a look of pure hatred. "One day I will be avenged, just you wait!" she cried. Then a sudden pain seized her. She fell to the ground gasping.

Lucius smirked. "I wouldn't count my basilisks before they hatch Narcissa. You'll be here for a while yet. I see you've made friends with the beastly half giant next door." Lucius gestured at the sleeping Olympe Maxime. "I can see you're craving the companionship. I guess you don't want to die alone. But don't worry, Draco will provide you with a few more friends soon. He's such a thoughtful boy really."

Narcissa stiffened. "What are you doing to him?"

Lucius gave her a withering glare. "Oh nothing, he's doing the Dark Lord's bidding willingly. Fancy that. Looks like he's got some sense after all."

Narcissa narrowed her eyes threateningly. "You leave Draco alone," she ground out.

"Or else what?" Lucius glowered. "Now I would love to stay and chat dear wife, but business in the Ministry calls. Try not to die too quickly. It's no fun if you don't suffer." He smiled maliciously before apparating from the dungeon.

Narcissa cursed and paced the confines of her cell anxiously. She had to get out somehow. Narcissa kicked the wall angrily. Madame Maxime's snoring came to a stop. The half-giant rolled up to a sitting position. She blinked her large eyes slowly. The fluttering of her eyelashes sent small ripples through the air. Narcissa peered up at the woman.

"Sleep well?" she asked flatly.

The half-giant looked down at the small, gaunt woman. "No I did not," she answered. "It was most uncomfortable."

Narcissa grinned wistfully. "Not bad for a straw mat really."

Madame Maxime sniffed unhappily. "You know, ze Dark Lord must be crazy," she complained. "What would he want wiz me?"

Narcissa shrugged. "The monster has his ways," she answered. "It's best to just stay quiet and hope for the best."

"And is zat what you are doing? 'Oping for ze best?" she asked.

Narcissa shook her head sadly. "No, there is surely no hope for me."

The half-giant studied the woman curiously. "You are not well," she stated. "Zomething has happened, no?"

"Yes, something has happened," Narcissa whispered. "I am dying."

The Headmaster of Beaubaxton gasped. "No!" she insisted.

"Yes," Narcissa replied. "The Dark Lord brewed a poisonous draught and forced me to take it. I can feel it inside me. It's weaving its' dark magic as we speak. I will die soon, Olympe. Here, among the rats. My body will turn to nothing but dust and I will never see my son again. He will never hear the words I never got to say. Oh Merlin, I miss my son," she sobbed. Narcissa paused to recollect herself. "I leave it to you my friend to tell him that I love him. Tell him I am sorry. I am so sorry that I let the worst happen to him. I am so sorry that I was not strong enough to protect him, to fight, to live."

Tears trickled down Narcissa's delicate face. The proud woman buried her face in her hands. The salty tears stung the wound on her hand that marked the brutal removal of her finger. Madame Maxime reached out through her bars and touched Narcissa's shoulder gently. She cooed sympathetically as the dying woman cried silently into her hands.

"You mustn't give up," Madame Maxime insisted. "We will live through zis Narcissa. We will call for 'elp, no? Zey must be looking for us, but zey do not know where to look. We must tell zem somehow. 'Agrid must be so worried. And your son must be too. What we need is a messenger."

Narcissa rubbed her sore eyes and looked up at the half-giant. "What's the use Olympe? Even if they know where we are, they cannot hope to reach us. This citadel is so well guarded that it's virtually impenetrable. It's no use Olympe. We can't ever get out."

"Don't speak like zat!" Madame Maxime bellowed. Narcissa jumped at her deep, rumbling voice. "You cannot give up hope. Zink of your son! He is still 'oping to see you alive! He wouldn't be doing zings for ze Dark Lord if it weren't for you. Now Narcissa, you must be brave, if not for yourself zen for your son. Now help me zink."

Narcissa sat down on the cold cobble-stoned floor and drew her knees up to her chest. She rested her head on her arms and thought. "We're in Grindelwald's fortress," she mumbled. "I heard Lucius telling that to Macnair. It's the most well protected citadel in all of Europe. There are acres of dense forest that surrounds its base on all sides. It's invisible to those who have never been here. They will never find it."

"Hmm," Madame Maxime said, "zen I hope your son will be smart enough to seek ze help of Dumbledore. He is a very wise man, no?"

Narcissa nodded numbly. She stared into space and barely registered Madame Maxime's words. I am going to die. And I will never see my son again. How much pain have I caused him? Oh dear Merlin, forgive me. Draco, I love you. You do know that don't you my son? I love you more than my own life. And yet I have failed to protect you. Failed as a mother. Forgive me Draco, I beg you. Please forgive me.

"Narcissa! Narcissa! Look!" a voice shouted. Narcissa came out of her thoughts with a start. She turned to look at her friend in the other cage. On her arm perched a large raven.

"A raven," Narcissa smiled. "My house in Hogwarts was that of a raven. It's a sign."

"Indeed!" Madame Maxime beamed. "We must send it away. It will deliver ze message for us."

Narcissa frowned. "Ravens cannot deliver messages. Only owls are used for that function."

"No, no," Madame Maxime insisted. "All birds can deliver messages. Owls are just more reliable. But zis raven won't let us down. Isn't zat right pretty raven?"

The raven croaked happily. Madame Maxime patted its' glossy feathers. "Well I guess it's worth a try," Narcissa sighed. She pulled out a tattered silk handkerchief. On the corner were the initials 'N.M.'.

"We must write something, no?" Madame Maxime asked.

Narcissa nodded but she could not find anything to write with. She looked around on the ground for a coloured rock.

"Over 'ere!" Madame Maxime called. Narcissa crawled over to the other side of the cage. Madame Maxime held a pile of dirt between her hands. "We can smear on ze message."

Narcissa nodded and set to work. There was little space. After much consideration, she decided on two words, "Grindelwald, Albania". There was no room for any other words. Madame Maxime peered over her shoulder and read the words.

"Zat should be enough information," she declared.

Narcissa nodded. "Well, whom should we send it to?"

Madame Maxime pondered the question. "We should send it to Dumbledore for he will help us. But zen he will not know zat it is from us. No, someone who will understand ze message should give it to him. Will your son give it to Dumbledore?"

Narcissa considered this. Would Draco turn to Dumbledore like I had asked? She thought. "I am not sure that he will. But then it is our best option. He knows my initials and he knows that I have been imprisoned," Narcissa replied.

Madame Maxime nodded. "I fear zat my darling 'agrid will get carried away and come for us directly if he knew where we were. Zat would be most foolish and dangerous. Draco will be our messenger."

Madame Maxime tied the note to the raven's leg. She whispered something softly to the magnificent bird. Then she sent it soaring through the small barred window at the back of their cell. The raven flapped away quickly. Madame Maxime watched as the bird disappeared from sight. She sat down to join her friend.

"Now we wait," she said quietly.

Narcissa peered at the large woman. "You're very nice for a half-giant," she commented.

Madame Maxime snorted in derision. "You pureblood wizards are all ze same. You zink zat just because we are different we must be inferior to you. I pity your ignorance. Zis world would be a better place if zere was a little more compassion and understand, instead of stupidity."

Narcissa nodded slowly and looked at the ground. "You are right," she agreed. "I am sorry."

"No need my dear friend," Madame Maxime said kindly. "Now you must get some rest for you are weak."

Narcissa smiled and nodded. She lied down on the straw mat and closed her eyes. A moment later, Madame Maxime rose to her feet and walked over to her friend's cell. Narcissa felt a great, warm coat being lowered onto her sleeping figure. She opened her eyes and saw Madame Maxime watching over her.

"My coat will keep you warm. Now get zome sleep," she said soothingly.

Narcissa touched the coat gently. Madame Maxime smiled and returned to her straw mat. Narcissa nestled into the coat and enjoyed the spreading warmth run through her body.

"Thank you Olympe," she murmured as she fell asleep.

*

Ron watched as Hermione hurried out of the Great Hall for the library. She muttered something about having to study and it was urgent. In a flurry, the brown haired girl rose from the table and bolted for the door. Ron frowned. Something told him that she was not being completely honest with him. She had been acting weird all week. Ron had spotted her reading a parchment in Charms class. It was crumpled and blank until Hermione waved her wand over the parchment and incanted "aparecium". Ron had tried to look over her shoulder but Hermione turned away from him swiftly. He scowled. That was no innocent note. He loathed the thought of Hermione receiving mysterious notes, especially if they were from boys. She's probably meeting him now, he thought sourly. Some slimey git is with her. He's probably taking advantage of her and mistreating her. That girl's brilliant at everything, but she hasn't got half a clue when it comes to boys. Ron shook his head sadly. When is she going to realise? That I'm right here, that I lo-

"Ron! Ron!" a voice called out to him. "Are you alright there mate? Did you hear what I just said? I said we have to train extra hard tomorrow. We're up against Slytherin in less than a week!"

Ron turned half-heartedly to an exasperated Harry. "Right, yeah of course."

Harry gave him a bewildered look. "Are you sick or something?" he asked.

"No," Ron shook his head. "I'm fine really. Sorry, of course training's important. Do I have to get up early for practice tomorrow? When have we got the pitch booked?"

"Seven-thirty," Harry answered as he dug into his cherry pie. "Now, we need to work on defence. Crabbe and Goyle are deadly beaters. You need to be careful. They always target the keeper. Once you're out, we won't be able to stop them from scoring. That Theodore Nott's pretty fast with the quaffle. Malfoy know that. He always plays dirty. Have you heard the news? They've made him the Slytherin captain. Can you believe it? I'm up against him again. But it doesn't matter. We're still better aren't we? Aren't we? Ron, are you listening to me?"

Ron was gazing dreamily into space. Harry threw his hands up in frustration and kicked Ron in the shins.

"OW! Blimey mate what was that for?" he howled.

Harry crossed his arms, the cherry pie forgotten. "What is going on Ron? You haven't been yourself all dinner. Is there something wrong?"

Ron gave Harry a pained look. "It's just that...well, Hermione's been acting rather odd lately. You don't think she's, you know, got a man?"

Harry studied his best friend for a moment. Then he burst into uproarious laughter. He hiccoughed and hugged his stomach. "Is that what's bothering you?" he asked through the tears of mirth. "You think she's seeing someone?"

"Well don't you?" Ron asked in exasperation. "She's been disappearing to the library an awful lot. I know she's not telling us something. All that 'extra studying', it's just not normal!"

Harry gave Ron an odd look. "You must be feverous. Do you realise who you're talking about? Hermione is always at the library. Extra studying is her life. I haven't noticed anything different about her."

Ron sighed loudly. "I hope he isn't a Hufflepuff. They're nice but they're so thick. And not Ravenclaw either, they're too witty for their own good. Gryffindor's alright I suppose, but it'll make things all awkward don't you think? She wouldn't go for a Slytherin. Even she wouldn't be daft enough for that..."

Harry chuckled silently. "Oh no, I'm in for it again aren't I? Are you going to carry on like this all year? I've had enough with you overreacting when Hermione was dating Krum. Please Ron, for the love of Morgana, don't put me through it again."

Ron gaped at Harry. "So you do think she's seeing someone?"

Harry put down his pumpkin juice and left the table. "Alright, that's it. You need to relax. Let's go back to the common room. How about a round of wizard's chess to take your mind off things?"

Ron grudgingly stood up from the table. As he and Harry approached the door, a flustered Dean walked in from the opposite direction. A horrible thought crossed Ron's mind. He rushed to Dean and grabbed the boy's cloak roughly.

"Why are you looking so flustered Thomas?" he snarled.

The startled boy looked down at Ron. "I was doing laps on my broom. You know, preparing for the game next week," he stammered. "What's the matter Ron? Is this about your sister again? I thought you got over it."

Ron narrowed his eyes. "Wrong Thomas, I'm not over it. Just so you know, I'm watching you," he hissed. "One bad move and I'll hex you into a cauliflower."

Dean looked flabbergasted. "A cauliflower?"

"That's right," Ron said as he narrowed his eyes, "a cauliflower." He let go of Dean's robe and stormed out of the Great Hall. Ron heard Harry muttering an apology to Dean from behind. A moment later Harry burst through the doors and grabbed his shoulder.

"Alright you need to calm down," Harry insisted. "Just cool off before you lose it."

"I am not losing it!" Ron retorted. "Why doesn't anyone understand? Boys our age are bad news. Ginny shouldn't be dating someone I know and Hermione just should be dating at all!"

Harry grinned inwardly. "You know Ron, I can understand you being protective of your sister, but Hermione too? If I didn't know better I'd say you have a thing for her."

Ron stopped halfway down the corridor and turned on Harry. "Don't be daft!" he raged. "I do not have a thing for Hermione Granger."

Harry backed up against the wall. "Alright, alright, I believe you. It was just a suggestion."

Ron turned away in a huff. Harry had come too close to the truth. He grimaced. This unexplainable feeling inside of him was beginning to bother him. He could not dismiss the happiness he felt when he was in her company, or the sense of longing in his heart when they were apart. Often he wished he could express his feelings to her. But he knew that it would only complicate things. They were friends after all. So he cherished everything about her, every smile, giggle and roll of her eyes. He would pretend that her gestures were more than that of a friend. But deep down inside he knew better. He knew that she would never looked at him the way he looked at her. He sighed and continued towards the Gryffindor common room. It bothered him that other boys were brave enough to ask her on dates and give her flowers. He could not do that. He would never be brave enough to do that. She would just laugh at him. Or worse, she would just smile kindly and say she is not ready for a relationship. It would be a nice cover for the truth; that she could never envisage a relationship with him. Ron scowled and kicked a loose pebble. His best friend looked at him worriedly, but Ron was in no hurry to explain his troubles.

The sounds of pattering footsteps interrupted Ron's thoughts. It was heading towards them. The sound grew louder and louder. Ron turned with a scowl. The pounding echo in the corridor was grating on his nerves.

"Ron! Hello-oh sorry, am I disturbing you?" said an uncertain voice.

Ron blinked. It was Susan Bones. The girl looked at Ron's scowling face uncertainly. She was holding a large basket hamper packed with sweets from Hogsmeade. On top of the basket sat a large red bow. Susan blushed as Ron studied her inquisitively.

"Hello Susan," Harry said to break the silence. "What have you got there?"

"Oh, it's a gift for Ron," she said shyly.

"For me?" Ron asked. "What for?"

"You got my pendant back from Draco Malfoy," she said. "I've been meaning to thank you properly for sometime now." She took out her pendant from her pocket and showed it to Ron. He had seen it before in the hands of Draco Malfoy. It was a beautiful shade of liquid silver that changed colours in the torchlight; a cold blue then a delicate purple then a fiery red. Ron was mesmerised by its' beauty. He held it up in the light and saw the peculiar outline of a sleeping boy. He handed it back to Susan.

"Think nothing of it. That git had it coming. He shouldn't have taken what's yours," Ron said kindly.

Susan grinned. "Still, I'd like to show my appreciation. The pendant has been in my family for many generations. It's an heirloom really. My grandmother would never part with it. Just before she died, she gave it to my mother for safekeeping. She said that the death eaters could deprive her of her life, but they could never deprive the family of its' treasure. My mother gave it to me this year for my sixteenth birthday. She said I am now old enough to take some responsibility. And look what happened! I nearly lost it." The girl shook her head ruefully. "I cannot express how grateful I am to you for bringing it back. Thank you Ron. I owled Honeydukes for a bag of everything in their store. I hope you'll like it."

Ron eyed the hamper hungrily. "I don't know what to say Susan. You're more than welcome. Blimey! That's the biggest liquorice wand I have ever seen!" Ron gasped.

Susan grinned and handed the hamper to Ron. "I hope you'll like it. There's also a sugar quill that never runs out."

Ron grinned contently as he gazed at the contents of the hamper. "Um, I was thinking..." Susan mumbled quietly.

Ron looked up. "Yes?" he asked.

"There's a Hogsmeade excursion in two weeks time and I was wondering...maybe...you would like get a butterbeer...together?" Susan asked hopefully. Her face turned a light shade of pink. The shy girl studied her shoes compulsively.

Ron pondered the offer. He and Harry had made plans to celebrate Hermione's birthday. "Well, we were going to take Hermione out for lunch seeing as it's her birthday," he said.

"Oh," Susan replied with a disappointed voice. "Well then maybe another time."

Harry nudged Ron meaningfully. "That's alright Ron, Susan can join us. The more the merrier," Harry said loudly.

Ron looked at Harry as if he were insane. "Well I suppose so," he said slowly. He turned to Susan. "Would you like to join us?"

Susan's eyes lit up. "Really? I would be honoured. But would I be intruding?" she asked.

Ron waved his hand. "No, no, Hermione would love to have you there," he said. "We'll be in the Three Broomsticks at twelve o'clock. Please don't tell anyone else. It's a surprise."

"Oh! Of course I won't tell a soul. Thank you for inviting me. I guess I'll see you there then. Goodbye Ron, goodbye Harry," Susan said excitedly.

Ron grinned and waved as the girl skipped down the stairs. The moment she was out of sight Ron rounded on Harry. "What was that all about?" he asked accusingly. "I thought we had it set that the party would only include her close friends so that it would stay a surprise."

Harry grinned mischievously. His green eyes danced with merriment. "Susan won't tell anyone. And besides, it's impolite to decline a lady's invitation," he said chivalrously.

Ron gave him a funny look. "I have no idea what you're talking about. It's just a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks."

Harry shook his head and chuckled. He placed one arm around Ron's shoulder as they continued towards the common room. "I'm going to leave it to Hermione to explain this one to you."

*

It was a dazzling Friday afternoon. The cool chilly air of the morning had evaporated. The lush green grass was dry. In the distance, sparrows chased one another in and out among the trees. Ginny stood inside the Gryffindor changing room with a broom in her hand. It was the first game of the season. And it was against Slytherin. She chewed her bottom lip nervously. She had never played chaser before. Harry told her not to worry, that her speed would make her an excellent chaser. But her passing and catching skills needed improvement. For the past week, Ginny tried to juggle quidditch practices with her upcoming OWLs. She trained tirelessly through good and bad weather, night and day. Now she was exhausted. Ginny heaved a sigh as she gazed out towards the pitch.

"You ready Ginny?" Dean asked as he put an arm around her waist. He had crept up behind her.

Ginny grinned happily at the touch of her boyfriend. "I don't know," she muttered. "I'm not all that confident. Chaser's a tough position. I'm not sure I've mastered my catching skills. What if I drop the quaffle?"

Dean massaged her shoulders gently. "Don't worry, you'll be fine. I've seen you train and you're very good. Besides, I'll protect you."

Ginny grinned. "Thanks, but I think you should watch out for Ron or Harry. Malfoy's going to do his best to bring them out of the game. Watch out for the bludger alright? I don't want you getting hurt."

Dean brought a finger to her lips. "I'll be fine. You have enough on your mind to worry about me. Let's just go out there and play our best. I don't think they stand a chance against us. We're going to destroy those Slytherins."

Ginny grinned. She gave Dean an affectionate kiss. The boy blushed and took her hand. They walked back to the group in time to hear Harry's speech.

"Alright, I've never done this before," Harry began nervously. He rearranged his glasses and looked at his team. A smile formed at the corner of his lips. "I don't know what to say to you, except that you are easily the best players this school has ever seen."

The team grinned at one another. Harry grew more confident. "We're hard working and talented. We're fast and accurate. We're not afraid of the Slytherins. We are not scared of their foul play because at the end of the day we will still win fair and square."

Seamus let out a cheer and the others clapped. "So we are going to go out there with pride and courage. We will face the Slytherins with determination. We will not admit defeat when the game gets tough. We will not surrender when they threaten us. We will triumph because we're already winners!"

"YEAH!" the team chanted. Ginny beamed as the others clapped Harry appreciatively on the back. They grabbed their brooms and headed out onto the pitch. Harry who led the team kicked off from the ground. Ginny followed. Euan Abercrombie and Lavender Brown were behind her. Further back were Seamus, Dean and Ron. The stands were ablaze with cheers and shouts. Students jumped up and down excitedly, shouting encouragement. They waved their banners and flags furiously at the two teams. Ginny circled the pitch rapidly to warm up. Collin Creevy was busily taking pictures of the game. Ginny expertly dodged the blinding flash of his camera. In the distance, the teachers watched the game with interest. Each was dressed in the colour of their house. The anticipation was electrifying. Ginny grinned widely. She loved a good game.

"Welcome to the first game of the season, Gryffindor versus Slytherin. It's going to be a brutal but fascinating game," a loud voice announced. Ginny looked up to see Dennis Creevy commentating the match. His voice was deep and resonant, unlike that of his older brother. Ginny looked on with surprise. "The odds are three to one in favour of Gryffindor. But if you're looking to place a bet I'm afraid it's too late. The bookie will not be taking anymore bets for this match."

"Dennis!" McGonagall barked. "What is this about betting on a quidditch game?"

"Er, I'm sorry I can't tell you Professor. I'm in an ethical position to protect the identity of this individual."

McGonagall looked furious. "Madame Hooch steps onto the field. The two captains are asked to shake hands," Dennis continued.

"Alright captains shake hands," Madame Hooch said. Harry and Draco clasped hands and glared at each other.

Each player took a position on the field. The quaffle flew into the air. There was a mad scramble for it. Euan took possession of the quaffle and passed it to Lavender who passed it to Ginny. The red haired girl dashed for the opposite goal. A bludger sailed passed her ear. She dodged Theodore Nott and passed the quaffle back to Lavender. A bludger smashed into the tail of Lavender's broom, sending her spinning dizzily to the side. Lavender dropped the quaffle. Tracey Davis caught the lost quaffle and made for the goal. Ginny chased after her.

"And Tracey Davis has the quaffle-she dodges Ginny Weasley, the very pretty red haired who's currently dating the Gryffindor beater, Dean Thomas. Ronald Weasley, the outstanding Gryffindor keeper, is thoroughly displeased with the union. He says he doesn't trust Thomas' wandering hands-"

"Dennis!" McGonagall shouted. "You're not commentating for Witch's Weekly!"

"Oh right, sorry Professor, back to the game-Tracey's advancing on the goal. She throws the quaffle-and Ron catches it! Weasley is our king!" Dennis sang happily. The Gryffindor stand burst into a round of "Weasley is Our King".

Ginny beamed as she surveyed the pitch. Harry and Draco were flying slowly. Both were looking for the snitch. Lavender took possession of the quaffle again. She threw it to Ginny who passed it to Euan. The three Gryffindors flew towards the goal. Millicent Bulstrode growled when she saw Ginny and tried to pull her off her broom. Ginny winced as the larger girl bruised her arm. She swerved desperately to escape Millicent's grasp.

"Millicent Bulstrode the great ugly brute has Ginny! Foul play!" Dennis howled. "But it's alright. The Gryffindors still have the quaffle. Euan dodges the bludger. Look out mate! Crabbe is coming after you!"

Euan heeded the warning and flew out of the way. He aimed the quaffle and shot it through the goal. The stands erupted into loud cheers.

"Gryffindor leads ten to nil!" Dennis said.

The teams flew back and forth. First the Gryffindors had the quaffles, then the Slytherins, then the Gryffindors. The game got rough as time wore on. Millicent Bulstrode grabbed hold of Lavender's hair and pulled her off her broom. The helpless girl screamed in fear as she fell through the air. Seamus dived expertly and caught the falling girl. Millicent took the quaffle with a sinister grin. She passed it to Tracey. The girl closed the distance to the goal and launched the quaffle. Just as Ron was about to block the quaffle, a bludger sailed into his side. Ginny watched in horror as her brother fell to the ground. The quaffle flew through the goal.

"Ten a piece," Dennis said. "The Gryffindor keeper appears to be out of them game. Are you alright there Ron? It looks like he's recovering from the attack. He's given the signal. He's right to play. Good on you mate! Ginny's got the quaffle. Oh! She lost it to Theodore Nott. Watch out Ron, he's coming. Nott is flying on the new streamlined Firebolt like the one Harry has. Except Nott got his broom from his death eater father. How's he doing in Azkaban?"

"DENNIS!" McGonagall stormed.

"What? It's true. His father's a death eater. He was arrested in the Ministry-Oh no, Nott shoots and he scores," Dennis grumbled. "Twenty to ten, Slytherin leads."

A rising cheer erupted from the Slytherin stand. Come on Harry, Ginny thought. Find the snitch. Ginny circled the pitch as the quaffle changed hands once again. Euan tossed the quaffle to Ginny. She caught it expertly with one hand and advanced on the goal. Tracey Davis flew up behind Ginny and snarled. She grabbed hold of the tail of Ginny's broom and shook violently. Ginny held on desperately. The whistle of a bludger approached. Tracey gasped in horror and flew out of the way. But Ginny was not so lucky. The bludger smacked into the side of Ginny's head. Her neck gave a sickening crack.

"Ginny!" a voice screamed far away. Ginny felt her eyes water as she hurtled towards the ground. The crowd gasped above her. Her thoughts faded into unconsciousness.

"Ginny are you alright?" Harry asked. Ginny's eyes began to focus. She looked up to see the whole team standing over her.

"I'm fine," she replied groggily. "Give me a second. I can still play."

"No you can't," Dean insisted. "You're too badly hurt. I'm going to kill Goyle. That monster! That brute!"

"It's alright," Ron said compassionately. "You've done enough for her. If it weren't for you she would have broken something. Thank you for catching her."

"It was the least I could do," Dean muttered.

"Madame Pomfrey's coming," Harry said with a worried expression. "She'll set you right."

Ginny grinned weakly. "What are you going to do? You're a player short."

Harry shrugged. "We'll keep playing. Hopefully I'll find the snitch. We're only ten points behind."

Ginny nodded and sat up. Her head felt like it had broken into two pieces. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Don't be daft," Lavender said. "There's nothing you could have done. We'll manage."

Ginny smiled weakly as the group mounted their brooms and returned to the game. She watched the game anxiously as Madame Pomfrey bustled over her. Crabbe sent the bludger to Harry who swerved madly to the right to avoid contact. Euan lost the quaffle to Millicent. The Slytherin girl dashed for the goal. Ron scowled and knocked the quaffle back. The spectators cheered loudly. Lavender took the quaffle and threw it to Euan who passed it back. A bludger flew straight at Lavender, but Seamus got there in time to hit it to Malfoy. Lavander smacked the quaffle with the back of the broom. The quaffle flew through the hoop.

"Gryffindor scores! Twenty a piece!" Dennis cheered. "That'll teach you evil gits! Never mess with us Gryffindors. Your Dark Lord can kiss my ar-"

"Dennis! Watch what you say!" McGonagall said while hiding a grin.

Ginny giggled. The game continued. She focused her attention on Harry. He really is the most elegant flier, she admired. Harry circled the pitch quickly. His eyes swept the scene before him. He noted every object, every sound, every flurry of movement. The suddenly, Ginny saw Harry stiffened. His eyes fixed on one spot. He's seen the snitch! Ginny thought excitedly. In an instant, Harry dived for the golden ball. Malfoy was not far behind him. The two boys descended rapidly. The crowd held its breath. Come on Harry, Ginny urged. Then suddenly, Harry swerved away from Malfoy. He clutched his head in pain. A look of dread crossed the boy's face. Ginny watched in horror as his hands left the broom. He fell. No one was near by to shield his fall.

"Harry!" she screamed. Her eyes flew from the falling figure of Harry to Malfoy. He was gaining on the snitch.

"Oh no you don't," she growled. Ginny stood up shakily and grabbed her broom.

"What are you doing?" Madame Pomfrey gasped in horror. "You need to sit down!"

Ginny ignored her and kicked off from the ground.

"Malfoy's closing on the snitch! What's that? Ginny Weasley has rejoined the game. She's chasing after Malfoy. She's taken over Harry's position as seeker! She's half a broom's length away. Come on Ginny! Malfoy's trying to lose Ginny but she's not fooled. Ginny Weasley's parallel to Malfoy. Oh I can't look!"

Dennis threw up his hands before his face. "What are you doing Dennis? You're the commentator you have to look!" McGonagall yelled.

Ginny launched her broom forward. She urged it to go faster. Her broom was no match for Draco's Nimbus 2001. The two seekers hurtled towards the buzzing snitch. It was hovering a few inches from the ground. Draco pushed his broom forward. Oh no, Ginny thought. He's going to get there before me. Ginny looked around wildly. Harry was lying a few feet away from the snitch. He was coming back to consciousness. Ginny gritted her teeth and closed her eyes. She had never done this before and she prayed to Merlin that it would work. In an unprecedented move, she leapt off her broom and tumbled to the ground. Ginny brought her foot towards the snitch and kicked it away from Malfoy's outstretched hand. The blonde boy howled with rage.

"Catch Harry!" Ginny screamed.

The dazed Gryffindor Captain looked up to see the snitch flying dizzily towards him. Harry raised his arm and caught the snitch with his swift reflex. Ginny squealed with delight.

"I don't believe it! What just happened? Well I'll be whomped by the Whomping Willow! Harry has caught the snitch!" Dennis cried. Madame Hooch blew the whistle. "Gryffindor wins! A hundred and seventy to twenty!"

The crowd was delirious with delight. They stomped, sang and chanted. The Gryffindor team congratulated the Slytherins with a satisfied grin. Malfoy glared at Ginny before storming off the pitch. The red haired girl laughed happily. Dean ran towards her and hugged her warmly. He lifted her off the ground and spun her around.

"You were so cool! That was amazing! How did you do that? Brilliant just brilliant," he cried. He leaned down and kissed her passionately.

"Hey Ginny! You were great--oh yuck!" Ron groaned. Ginny turned to see a disgusted Ron backing away slowly. She laughed.

"Don't be childish Ron, how's Harry?" she asked.

"We've sent him to the infirmary. Pomfrey says he'll be fine. We're going to see him now. You coming?" he asked.

Ginny nodded. She picked up her broom and followed Ron. The whole Gryffindor team headed for the infirmary. The rest of the house headed back to the common room for a celebratory party. Rumour had it that the Creevy brothers bought a set of Deflagration Deluxe from the Weasley twins. It was going to be some party. Ginny was crossing the school grounds when Hermione ran up beside her.

"What happened to Harry?" she asked anxiously. "Is he alright? That was an awfully long way to fall."

Ginny tried to comfort the girl. "He's alright. He's got a few nasty bruises but nothing worse than that."

"He said something about a vision," Ron whispered quietly. He fell back from the group to join Ginny and Hermione. "I think You-Know-Who sent him another message."

Hermione gasped. "Do you know what Harry saw?"

Ron shook his head. "He muttered something about Narcissa before they took him away. Poor Harry, he's probably feeling delirious."

Hermione looked startled. Ginny gave her a curious look but the brown haired girl ignored her. In silence, the Gryffindors climbed the stairs of Hogwarts in search of Harry.