Harry Potter and the Sect of the Serpent

CHAPTER NINETEEN -- The Halloween Feast

"Gwyn, honey!" Mr. Griffiths rushed across the infirmary, his robes billowing impressively behind him. He moved with the athletic grace suggested by his physical appearance and brushed past Harry, hardly even noticing him, eyes only for his daughter.

"I came as soon as they flooed me," he exclaimed, grasping her hand in one of his and laying the other across her forehead. "Are you alright? Where does it hurt?"

"I'm fine, Daddy," Gwyn said, still sounding a little shocked. "You didn't have to come--"

"Nonsense! It's no trouble. The Minister understood entirely."

Harry started to back away from Gwyn's bed. He had crossed his arms across his chest, embarrassed by his shirtlessness, and wished that he could just quietly slip away.

"Who did this to you, Gwyn?" Mr. Griffiths demanded. "I want names!"

"I... I don't know, Daddy. I never saw him. Harry--"

Mr. Griffiths whirled around and seemed to see Harry for the first time.

"You!" he exclaimed with surprise. "You're Harry Potter." Harry opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Mr. Griffiths turned back to Gwyn.

"What were you doing with Harry Potter?" he asked, as though Harry weren't standing right there.

"We're friends Daddy," she said reproachfully. "I wrote you that in my letters." Mr. Griffiths frowned.

"Did you? Well I don't like it, not one bit. Gwyn, that boy gets into more trouble than a bull in a china shop."

Harry felt like he was wearing his invisibility cloak, the way Mr. Griffiths was talking, but he feared that if the irate father ever did focus on him for more than a moment, he would wish he really did have the cloak.

"It's not like we were out looking for someone to hex us," Gwyn said tersely as she raised herself up on one elbow. "Gawd Dad, you act like I got stunned on purpose!"

"Don't be absurd, Gwyn," Mr. Griffiths said dismissively. He turned and glanced over his shoulder. "Albus, what exactly are you planning to do to find the lunatic who hexed my little girl?"

Harry followed Mr. Griffiths' gaze towards the door where Dumbledore was standing, placidly watching the scene unfold.

"I had intended to start by looking for him or her," he replied frankly.

Mr. Griffiths glowered. "This whole business is queerer than a three dollar bill," he grumbled. He took a step towards Dumbledore and shook his index finger at him. "Now listen here: I want to know who is hexing my daughter and what you're going to do about it, Albus. And you!" he exclaimed, turning and looking Harry in the eyes at last, his finger still jabbing at the air, punctuating each of his sentences. "What's the matter with you, boy? Haven't you got any sense? Don't just stand there in your birthday suit! Put a shirt on for Merlin's sake!"

Obediently, and with great relief, Harry scurried over towards the curtains that separated his bed from the rest of the infirmary and pulled his tee shirt over his head. He quickly followed it with his jumper and shoes for good measure.

"My first priority has been to ensure the safety of all the students still in the village, though my staff is, even now, working to uncover the identity of Harry's assailant," Dumbledore replied evenly. "As soon as we know anything more I will, of course, inform you--"

"Harry's assailant? Harry's not lying in a hospital bed looking paler than a snowman's ghost!"

Harry emerged from his curtains fully dressed, but still feeling naked before Mr. Griffith's glare.

"Dad," Gwyn said firmly, sitting up in her bed, "Harry got me back to school. If it wasn't for him--"

"You wouldn't have been in danger in the first place," Mr. Griffiths retorted. "He's dangerous, Gwyn."

"He's not!" she yelled suddenly. "You've got him all wrong, Daddy! If you would just listen..."

"Gwyn, from what the Minister's been telling me, this boy spins a yarn faster than a sheep on steroids. I don't know what he's been telling you, but--"

"Well the Minister is wrong!" she shouted back.

"I've had just about enough of this," Mr. Griffiths said abruptly in a very stern tone. "You," he barked, looking at Gwyn, "are coming with me. And you," he turned to glare at Harry, "are going to stay the hell away from my daughter from now on. Is that clear?"

Harry just stared at him dumbly.

At that moment, Dumbledore stepped forward. "Harry," he said in a firm tone, "I believe Remus is waiting for you in my office. Why don't you escort him down to the Great Hall, please." Harry nodded gratefully and hurried towards the door.

"John," Dumbledore continued evenly, "I see no reason why you or Gwyn should need to leave. If you would like to--"

"I'm going to take Gwyn to Saint Whatsits in London and have her checked out. We'll need to use your floo, Albus."

"I assure you," Dumbledore said calmly, "that Madam Pomfrey is fully qualified and extremely capable. I would trust my very life with her, as I would the lives of all of my students."

"Well, no offense meant, ma'am, I'm sure, but I'd just feel much better with a licensed healer and not some school nurse."

Harry didn't hear Madam Pomfrey's reply, as the infirmary door banged shut behind him.

"Meeting a girl's father is never exactly fun," Remus mused as he and Harry wandered down towards the Great Hall. "but I think that little altercation qualifies as one of the worst I've ever heard." Remus had been waiting for him outside Dumbledore's office, and Harry had immediately launched into a narrative of the events in the Hospital Wing.

Harry groaned. Living it had been bad. Describing it was almost worse. "Why didn't I just put my shirt on when I got up, like a normal person?" he asked no one in particular. Remus smiled slightly.

They reached the entrance hall and Remus paused. Students were filing past into the feast, and more than a few of them were openly staring at him. He stood quite still for a moment, watching them, hands clasped behind his back. Harry noticed that his knuckles were white.

"Harry," he said uncomfortably, "you do realize that having a former professor to dinner - or a werewolf, for that matter -- isn't exactly going to make your classmates think very highly of you..."

Harry scoffed. "Don't worry," he said simply. "It won't be any worse than what most of them think about me already." He grinned. "The only people who matter are going to be thrilled to see you."

Remus raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, but followed him into the brightly lit Hall.

The room looked brilliant, as always. The requisite cloud of live bats was fluttering about the rafters, the sound of their wings and their little squeaks a soothing background to the hubbub of noise from the excited student body. Hagrid had had an unusually abundant crop of pumpkins that year; every available surface was covered in them, and the several dozen that could not find a surface floated about lazily just above their heads. The faces carved into them were all different, and several winked, stuck out their tongues, or waggled their eyebrows at Harry as he passed.

"Harry! Professor Lupin!" Hermione was out of her seat waving and shouting as soon as they entered the Hall. Harry shot Remus a grin as they made their way down the row to where Ron was pushing several smaller kids out of the way to make room for the two new arrivals.

"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione asked concernedly as he and Remus approached. "Neville's been telling us what happened."

Harry nodded and glanced at Neville who was blushing with embarrassment. "Neville saved my life," he answered solemnly, which caused Neville to redden even more.

"Professor Lupin helped," Neville said shyly.

"You look terrible, mate," Ron offered, staring at Harry's impressive bruises. "Got right clobbered, didn't you?"

"Thanks, Ron," Harry grumbled.

"Are you going to eat with us, Professor?" Hermione asked as Harry lowered himself gingerly onto the bench next to her; the pain potion was beginning to wear off, and the stiffness was setting in.

"If it's alright with you all," Remus said. Hermione smiled brightly and nodded. Remus took his place at the table and met Harry's eye, flashing a rare, utterly genuine smile.

"Remus?" The group turned and looked up at Professor McGonagall who was standing over them, staring at Remus with unabashed surprise. "Decided to stay for dinner, have you?"

Remus grinned broadly at her. "Harry invited me," he said. "And I make a point never to turn down an invitation to dinner." The expression of easy enjoyment, whether at the look on McGonagall's face or the feast and company around him, made Remus look years younger. Harry smiled at the change.

Professor McGonagall looked skeptical. "You wouldn't prefer more adult accommodations?" she asked mildly, gesturing to the staff table.

"Certainly not," Remus replied indignantly. "As I'm not a professor here any longer, I'd quite like to have dinner with my housemates and make up for the shocking amount of neutrality I displayed during my tenure. Up Gryffindor!"

He looked around hopefully at Harry and the others who were staring at him blankly.

Professor McGonagall put a hand to her forehead. "Oh for pity's sake, Remus, don't get that started again! I've only just gotten over the headache that cheer gave me when you were in school."

"Up Gryffindor!" Ron chimed in enthusiastically. Remus blinked up at her innocently.

Professor McGonagall shook her head at them, a very poorly hidden smile playing at the corner of her lips, before she headed up to the staff table to begin the feast.

As the food appeared and they all began helping themselves to baked chicken, leg of lamb, roast duck, boiled potatoes, pumpkin rolls, and roasted vegetables, Ron groaned ecstatically and said, "Ah, get in!" lovingly to the potatoes.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "How's Gwyn?" she asked Harry.

Harry shrugged. "She's alright. But her dad wanted to take her to St. Mungo's."

"Bet Madam Pomfrey loved that," Ginny snorted.

Remus shook his head. "She won't let her go without a fight. Poppy Pomfrey is nothing if not proud of her work."

"Slow down, Ron," Hermione scolded. "You'll put someone's eye out at the rate you're going!" Ron paid her absolutely no attention.

"Hang on," Remus said, suddenly very serious as he looked up and down the table, "are there any of those... There are!" He motioned for a terrified looking second year to pass him a platter of pumpkin pasties. "Oh, I've missed these," he said rapturously tipping three or four onto his plate. "They were always James' favorites too. One year --" He broke off suddenly, looking at Harry, who had been listening as intently as the others.

"Go on," Harry encouraged him, "unless you'd rather not..."

"Actually," he said in a surprised voice, and smiled again, wistfully. Harry glanced over at Ron, who had slowed his shoveling of food so as to better hear over his own chewing, and at Hermione, whose eyes looked oddly misty. He wondered if she was feeling well.

"Right," Remus said, taking an overly large bite and then proceeding with the story, "so James and I lifted the pasties from the kitchen, and then Sirius nicked them from us. He had the bright idea to levitate them up through the girls' dormitory windows and drop them on them while they were sleeping..." He paused, smiling fondly at the pumpkins overhead. "Only he discovered it's a bit easier said than done when you can't see to aim the pastry. I've never seen James so appalled as when he found out his entire stash of pumpkin pasties was splatted across the walls and ceiling of the girls' dormitory." He glanced over at Hermione, who was giving him a wide-eyed reproachful stare and quickly added, "Of course, Lily gave us all detention for it, even though James and I hadn't anything to do with the actual levitating. She seemed to think that providing Sirius with ammunition was crime enough to fit the punishment."

The rest of the evening passed pleasantly and much too quickly for Harry's liking. Remus told them several more stories of the pranks and mayhem he and his friends had got up to while they were at school, several of which involved stealing food, and all of which were almost too good to be true.

All around the hall, Harry couldn't help but notice that students were randomly turning into large yellow canaries; bubbles erupted from various ears, and some sprouted long moustaches.

"Looks like Fred and George's mail order business is really doing well," he mused as a third year up the table from them squawked as she burst out in yellow feathers. Neville looked suspiciously at the tart he'd been about to eat, and quickly set it to the side of his plate.

"Well, I don't think it should be allowed," Hermione said, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she watched the poor girl molting while her friends picked yellow feathers out of their puddings.

"Oh come on, Hermione," Ron moaned. "They're just having a bit of fun. It's not like anyone's bought a portable swamp yet."

Hermione shook her head. "You don't know that, Ron. We might go on rounds tonight and find ourselves wading through a corridor of muck, like last year. And then who do you think is going to have to help clean it up?" Ron rolled his eyes and shrugged as he reached for another tart. Neville reached for one at the same time.

"Er... Not that one, mate," Ron said quietly. Neville went slightly green and apparently decided he wasn't hungry.

As the feast wound down, Harry found he didn't want it to end. Despite the serious bruises mottling his face and body, he was feeling better than he had in a long time. He and Remus stayed at the table talking until most of the other students had left the Hall. Hermione, Ron, and Ginny had all gone off as well; the head boy and girl had given all the prefects extra rounds to discourage any Halloween shenanigans.

"You should get to bed," Remus said at last, draining the last drops of his pumpkin juice. "You've had a rough day."

Harry nodded solemnly.

"What about you?" he asked. "I mean, will you stay here, or will you go back to London?"

Remus regarded him thoughtfully for a few moments. "I'll probably ask Dumbledore for a spare room for the night," he said at last. "I'm sure he'll want to hear your account of the attack first hand, and he and I have other things to discuss as well."

"Things about the Sect?" Harry asked quietly.

Remus nodded. "Convincing them to let me in is proving harder than I had expected," he said solemnly. "They want proof of my dedication to the cause."

"What kind of proof?" Harry asked.

Remus shrugged. "That's what I need to talk to Dumbledore about," he replied evasively. "Oh! I almost forgot."

Remus dug into a pocket in his robes and produced the square mirror. "Don't want to lose this," he said. "You'll need it to tell me how the Quidditch match turns out next week."

Harry took it gratefully. "Thanks," he said. "For everything, I mean."

Remus nodded. "Now. To bed! Or I'll have to find Professor McGonagall and tell her there's a student out past curfew."

Harry feigned an unimpressed yawn and rolled his eyes, but made his way upstairs pleasantly exhausted and smiling.

The next morning at breakfast, Harry found a note on his plate which told him to report to the headmaster's office at ten o'clock. So, after forcing down a bowl of porridge, he made his way to the twin gargoyles that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore's office. They were much larger than the variety that they'd caught on the roof in Hagrid's class, but something about their eyes made Harry wonder if they weren't more than just statues.

"Harry?"

Harry turned and saw Neville hurrying up the corridor towards him. "Did you get a note too?" Harry nodded. "Oh good!" Neville exclaimed, relieved. "I thought I was in trouble or something."

"I don't think so," Harry said, turning back to the gargoyles. "He just wants to talk to us about yesterday, I expect."

Neville nodded and they stood silently for a moment, regarding the impassive gargoyles.

"Er... How do we get in?" Neville asked quietly.

"Maybe we just ask," Harry suggested. He took a few steps forward.

"Hallo," he said, not sure what to expect. "We've got an appointment with Professor Dumbledore."

The gargoyles didn't move.

On his previous visits to the Headmaster's office, he'd been escorted, or by chance guessed Dumbledore's password. He did not trust that he would be able to guess it again.

"Er, hello?" he said again, taking another pace forward to where he knew the entrance to be. "Professor Dumbledore?"

"Just what do you think you're doing, Potter?"

Harry whirled around to see Professor Snape striding up the corridor towards him. Neville backed up a few steps involuntarily.

"I'm waiting for Professor Dumbledore," Harry said defensively. He glanced at Neville. "We have an appointment."

Snape sneered at him. "And you thought that addressing a brick wall was the most expedient way to go about gaining the headmaster's attention?" He didn't wait for an answer, instead he turned to the gargoyles and said, "Marsh-Mellow."

Without so much as another look at Harry or Neville, he swept into the now-visible entry and up onto the moving spiral staircase. Harry's stomach sank. It wasn't just an unhappy coincidence that Snape happened to be passing. Warily, Harry followed him up the stairs with Neville trailing at his heels, his mouth open and eyes wide with awe.

Harry arrived at the top, surprised to see Professor McGonagall already seated beside Remus, and Snape striding to the Headmaster's desk. He had expected this meeting with Dumbledore to be private, or, at the very most, to include Remus and Neville, and the additional interrogators made him feel vaguely wary. Professor Dumbledore was seated behind his desk looking rather weary, Harry thought, and avoided his gaze.

"Ah. Severus, boys, right on time. Please, have a seat." Harry and Neville took the empty chairs next to Remus, and Snape conjured his own straight-backed wooden chair on the other side of Professor McGonagall. Neville was staring around at the office in wonder, and Harry realized it must be his first visit. Fawkes was perched in his customary position just behind Dumbledore's left shoulder. Harry smiled at the Phoenix, and he thought he saw Fawkes incline his head slightly at him before the bird turned to preen his tail feathers. Professor Dumbledore peered avidly around at each of them over the tops of his half-moon spectacles before reaching for a tin on his desk.

"Lemon drop?" he asked genially, passing the tin to Neville. Neville's hand shook, but he took one and passed the tin on. When the sweets reached Snape, Harry was amused to see that he took one, but didn't eat it. Instead, he rolled it back and forth between his thumb and forefinger.

"Harry, Neville," Dumbledore said at last, "I've asked Professors Snape and McGonagall to sit in on our conversation this morning. I hope that is all right with you?"

Harry glanced over at Professor McGonagall, who was looking pinched and stern, and at Snape, who was looking annoyed and bored, and nodded. Beside him, Neville managed to do the same.

"Remus has already informed us of what he saw," Dumbledore continued. "I would, however, like for the two of you to answer a few more questions, if you can."

Harry nodded, the lemon drop slowly dissolving in his mouth. Neville just stared.

"Harry, when did you first see the man who accosted you in the street?"

"He was in the alley," Harry said slowly, trying to remember everything in detail. "We were just walking by and I turned to say something to Gwyn and I saw him in the alley. He stunned Gwyn and then he came after me."

"Did he try to stun you?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry shook his head and frowned. "No. He used Expelliarmus to disarm me, but after that, he didn't try another spell."

Dumbledore frowned and turned to Remus and Neville. "Did either of you notice whether the man cast any other spells?" They both indicated they had not. Dumbledore's frown deepened as he turned back to Harry.

"Did you recognize the man who attacked you?"

"No," Harry replied at once, "but I didn't get a very good look at his face. He was wearing a muffler." Dumbledore glanced over at Neville.

"I d-don't know who he was either," Neville stammered.

Dumbledore peered at each boy closely. "You're certain?"

Harry frowned. "Yes," he repeated. "I never saw him before."

"If I might ask, Professor," Professor McGonagall interjected, "I would like to know how the attacker knew the children would be in Hogsmeade on this date."

"I may be wrong," Remus said, "but in my day, Hogsmeade weekends were fairly common knowledge. The townspeople usually knew when we were coming."

"Well," McGonagall replied with only the faintest trace of amusement, "we only thought it fitting to give them fair warning that you and your classmates would be descending on them."

"The date of the Hogsmeade trip was changed," Dumbledore explained to Remus, "so that fewer people outside the school would be aware of the students' presence in town before they arrived."

Harry had a sudden revelation. "You changed the date because of me," he said flatly.

Dumbledore nodded. "It seemed safest not to advertise your time away from the school." He sighed. "But it was not a closely guarded secret. There are many ways the information could have been leaked into the wrong hands."

"If the attacker wasn't privy to the knowledge firsthand," McGonagall said stiffly.

"A spy," Remus mused, glancing for the briefest moment at Dumbledore. Harry's mind raced. He could think of several people who would be a good candidate for a Death Eater spy, namely Malfoy, Malfoy, and -- oh yes -- Malfoy.

"While that may or may not be true," Snape said suddenly, "I doubt very seriously that this attack was mounted by a Death Eater."

Remus frowned at him.

Professor Snape gave a perfunctory shrug of his narrow shoulders. "The Dark Lord's followers are not known for their subtlety; they rely on surprise, brute force, and strength of numbers to achieve their ends. With the exception of a few key minds in his innermost circle, they are a loutish lot who curse first and ask questions afterward. Besides," he turned to look directly at Harry, "if he wanted to take Potter alive, history has shown that he has far more effective ways of obtaining the boy's presence than kidnapping."

Harry felt his face begin to burn, but Snape continued his monologue unperturbed. "That this attack was executed to a more sophisticated plan and with a minimum of collateral damage suggests the attacker was not a common Death Eater. And despite his patently dubious powers of observation, even Potter would have recognized any of the more elite, and thus more capable, of their ranks."

Harry tried to absorb this as Neville frowned deeply. If the attacker wasn't a Death Eater, did that mean that there was someone else after him as well? He clenched his fists at his side in frustration. Why couldn't they all just leave him well enough alone?

"Are you sure they were after Harry?" Neville said suddenly in a very small voice. Everyone in the room turned to stare at him, and his face went the color of Fawkes' feathers. He ducked his head quickly and mumbled an apology.

"What do you mean, Neville?" Dumbledore asked kindly. Neville glanced up, his shoulders hunched up about his ears as though he were trying to make himself as small as possible.

"Maybe Harry was just in the way," Neville squeaked unhappily. "I mean, isn't Gwyn's dad a politician or something? Maybe the guy was after her."

The adults were silent for a long moment.

"Longbottom may have a point," Snape said at last, although it seemed to pain him to admit it.

"We just assumed..." McGonagall said.

"But the other attack--" Remus protested. Harry wished that one of them would finish their sentences.

"These are all questions which require much consideration," Dumbledore said at last. "However, I believe our first priority should be the question of Harry's safety."

"Clearly he is at risk the moment he leaves the castle walls," Snape said icily. "Therefore it seems only logical for him to be confined to the castle for the remainder of the year."

Harry inhaled sharply and almost choked on his remaining sliver of his lemon drop.

"Don't be absurd," Professor McGonagall retorted calmly, but a spot of color appeared on both of her cheeks. "That wouldn't be practical. He has lessons that take place outside on the grounds. Not to mention Quidditch."

Professor Snape regarded her coolly. "I see. The boy's safety is paramount -- so long as it doesn't interfere with Gryffindor's winning streak."

"But," Neville said, sounding slightly braver, "no one could come on school grounds without you knowing about it, could they Professor?" All eyes were on Dumbledore who was studying his hands impassively.

"Peter did it," Remus said quietly. "He was here for three years. And Sirius..."

"Not to mention Crouch," Snape added. Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, but Professor Dumbledore cut her off.

"I see no sensible way to confine Harry to the castle without it interfering unduly with his daily life here," Dumbledore said coolly. "We will save that course of action for when we have no other choice."

"What about a body guard?" McGonagall suggested.

"What?" Harry exclaimed, unable to control himself. McGonagall gave him a stern look that clearly said he should be seen and not heard at this point. He didn't care. He could just see Malfoy's face if he showed up to class trailing a body guard along behind. That your nursemaid, Potter? Need a nanny now, do we?

"No," Harry said firmly.

"It might be safest," Remus said carefully, as he glanced at Harry. Harry glared at him; he had thought at least Remus would be on his side.

"I don't need a body guard," Harry said determinedly. "That's ridiculous."

"Is it?" Dumbledore asked softly. Everyone turned to look at him, but he was looking directly at Harry, and Harry met the headmaster's eyes for the first time. He wondered vaguely if Dumbledore were trying to read his mind before ducking his head and shifting uncomfortably in his chair.

"John Griffiths has already assured me that he will be asking the Minister to assign a contingent of Aurors to guard Hogwarts until his daughter's attacker is caught," Dumbledore said at last. Professor McGonagall gave a disgusted little snort. "We may be able to use this to our advantage and postpone any more drastic measures indefinitely."

Professor McGonagall wrinkled her nose and made another little noise of disapproval, but she rose to go, and Snape followed her. Harry took this to mean that he wouldn't be getting a body guard any time soon, and that the meeting was over. Harry and Neville also stood to go.

"Harry," Remus said, calling him back. "I have to leave as soon as I've had a few more words with Dumbledore."

"Oh," Harry said, "right." They studied each other uneasily for a moment before Remus put his hand out. Harry took it and shook it awkwardly.

"Take care of yourself, Harry," Remus said, smiling slightly. "And don't forget what I said about the mirror."

"I won't," Harry assured him. He turned and left the office, a feeling of emptiness filling him as the spiral stairs took him back down to the main corridor. Sirius wouldn't have thought I needed a bodyguard...

Harry shook his head, trying to dislodge the troubling thoughts.

It wasn't quite lunch time, and as Harry didn't feel particularly keen on facing the large pile of schoolwork waiting for him in the common room, he found himself wandering the halls aimlessly. As he turned a corner, he realized that his feet had taken him to the hospital wing.

At the same time, the door to the infirmary opened, and Gwyn emerged. "Gwyn!"

She turned and smiled brightly when she saw him, looking almost relieved.

"You're a sight for sore eyes," she said. Harry tried to jog up the corridor towards her, but quickly gave up on speed when his bruised ribs complained painfully. "I only just got back from St. Mungo's. I was going to try to find you."

"Are you all right, then?" Harry asked.

Gwyn rolled her eyes. "Of course I'm all right. Just another example of my father's rather inefficient brand of parenting: making a big deal out of all the wrong things at all the wrong times." She sighed. "He made such a scene at the hospital, ordering people around and yelling at everybody. They kept me overnight for 'observation' just to make him happy; as soon as I had a room he was off to the Ministry again."

"I'm sorry," Harry said awkwardly, not quite sure what else he could say.

Gwyn shrugged. "All in a day's work for my dad," she replied. She glanced up at Harry. "Listen, I was going to head up to the dormitory now. The hospital shower gave me the creeps..."

"I'll walk with you if you like," Harry offered, and Gwyn smiled.

They walked along in silence for a while, Gwyn leading the way up corridors and around corners that Harry had hardly ever visited. Usually, silence with Gwyn didn't bother Harry any more than silence with Ron or Hermione did, but now the quiet was making his palms itch.

"Did you get into more trouble with your dad because of me?" he asked at last, just to break the tension.

Gwyn gave a little half-hearted laugh. "Oh yes. I received an embarrassingly detailed lecture on the birds and the bees, thanks to you, and was expressly forbidden from even so much as looking at you ever again." Harry frowned.

"He told me that so far his research had led him to believe that you were a delinquent and a menace, that you had dangerous people after you because of it, and that if I could get my schedule changed so that I didn't have to have any classes with you, well, I should do that too." Harry stared at her. She was giving him a rather apologetic smile. Her own father thought he was a mental case and a freak. He didn't understand how she could be taking this so lightly.

"I guess I should leave you alone then," Harry said more loudly than he'd meant to, stopping abruptly halfway up the staircase they were climbing. "I wouldn't want you to get in trouble with your dad."

"Look Harry," she said, the smile vanishing from her face. "Obviously I don't know the whole story about you still, but I don't think my dad does either--"

He stared at her and realized with a shock, that she believed what her dad had been telling her.

"It's fine," he snapped. "I understand!" But in truth, he felt anything but fine or understanding. Angrily, he turned on his heel and started back down the stairs.

"Harry!" He didn't stop. He didn't want to look at her any more; it would only make everything even harder.

"Harry!" Her voice was pleading. Reluctantly, he stopped and turned back. She hurried down to meet him, stopping a few steps above.

"Look," she began quietly, "I'm sorry about my dad. I know he can be a total jerk, but you have to consider where he's coming from. In America, you're like an urban legend -- a baby who defeated a dark wizard that no one else could kill? You have to admit, to someone who doesn't know you really exist..." She paused, her eyes searching his. "I can see why my dad wouldn't believe it," she said finally.
"I don't care what your dad believes," Harry answered hotly. He took a deep breath to steady himself. "What do you believe?"
She smiled at him fondly, a look of relief passing over her face. "I believe that you're a good guy, Harry, and I believe that you would never lie to me or do anything to hurt me." She took another step down so that they were now only one step apart. They were looking at one another almost eye to eye. "And I believe that, against my better judgment, I'm doing the one thing I swore to myself I would never do."
"What's that?" Harry breathed, unable to take his eyes off her. Her blue eyes were wide and shining; she had pulled her hair back into a pony tail, but a few wisps had escaped and were floating effortlessly around her face. He found it was very hard to stay angry when she was looking at him like that. It was hard to concentrate on much of anything other than the warm feeling that was filling him. She gave him a very small smile.
"I'm falling for a wizard," she whispered conspiratorially. Harry's heart leaped against his ribs and for a split second, he prayed she meant him. Gwyn leaned down from her step and a wisp of her hair tickled his nose as she pressed her lips softly against his cheek. As she drew back, he inhaled and smelled the sweet scent of her -- vanilla and something spicy, like sage. He tried to think of what to say, but his mind didn't seem to be working properly, so he let his instincts take over.
Reaching up with one arm, he put his hand on her waist and drew her back down towards him until her face was level with his. She did not resist. Closing his eyes, he found that he didn't even have to think about what to do as his lips met hers. One of her hands found his shoulder and squeezed it gently. This was no peck on the cheek, he found himself thinking, this was a Kiss. It was the longest thirty seconds of his life, and he wished it could have gone on forever.

But then it was over. They broke apart and he noticed that she was blushing furiously. She smiled nervously at him and gave a little mock sigh.
"Now you've really done it," she said softly. Below them, a rush of noise signaled that lunch was beginning, and that at any moment, the stairs would be flooded with hungry students heading down to the Great Hall.
She retreated back up a few steps. "I'll see you later then, Harry?" she said softly.
"Right. Yeah," he said, still feeling a bit dazed. He watched her until she was completely out of sight. "See you."