Harry Potter and the Sect of the Serpent

CHAPTER THIRTY: The New Boy

When Harry awoke, he found himself lying on freshly starched sheets in the Hospital wing. The light through the windows was very dim, and most of the lamps and fires in the ward had been lit. As he sat up and looked around for his glasses, he hoped he'd only been asleep for a few hours.

In the bed next to him, Phillipe Fontaine was lying quite still. There was a nasty cut near his hairline, and some dried blood still clung to the fine hairs at the nape of his neck. Phillipe must have hit his head on that rock when the two of them had fallen.

Near the door, a group of students was gathered around Madam Pomfrey, arguing in loud whispers

"Listen," a female voice finally exclaimed. "I've just had an express owl from my father, and he says that you have no legal right to keep us out! If he's unconscious, then we won't be bothering him anyway, will we?"

"Look!" another voice said. "He's awake!"

The whole group turned towards him, and Harry squinted at them myopically. As one, the students rushed towards him: Ron, Hermione, and Gwyn in the lead.

"Harry!" she blurted, rushing forward. "How are you feeling? Are you alright?"

"That thing didn't get you, did it Harry?" Ron asked nervously.

"No, I'm alright," Harry responded, finding his glasses at last and shoving them on his face.

"That remains to be seen," Madam Pomfrey said testily, reaching out for Harry's wrist to take his pulse. "You sustained rather severe spell drain, Mr. Potter. Do you feel weakness in any of your limbs?"

Harry shook his head. "What was that thing you did, Hermione?"

"Just a simple sleeping charm," Hermione said modestly. "Tony said it wouldn't hurt the chimera at all."

Madam Pomfrey snorted derisively. She was holding her palm out flat, balancing her wand on it, and the wand seemed to be acting like the needle of a compass. It swung from a horizontal position, almost all of the way around a semi-circle before fluctuating briefly and coming to rest. Madam Pomfrey tutted quietly to herself.

"You're still weak," she said. "So regardless of any legal implications," she shot a rather annoyed glance at Gwyn, whose jaw was set determinedly, "you three may only stay for a few minutes. Mr. Potter needs his rest,"

Gwyn smiled triumphantly and perched on the edge of Harry's bed. "Oh, Harry," she said kindly. "I can't believe you did that. I couldn't even scream when I saw that thing looking at me."

"Yeah," Ron said clapping Harry gingerly on the shoulder. "That was a smart thing, conjuring Lindell's shield charm like that. How did you know it would hold up?"

"I didn't," Harry said truthfully. "It was just the first thing that came to mind."

"Are you still feeling dizzy, Mr. Fontaine?" Madam Pomfrey asked, bustling over to Phillipe's bed with a smoking goblet of potion.

"Less, now," Phillipe said softly. Harry was surprised to realize that he was awake.

"Well, this should help," Madam Pomfrey replied, helping him into a sitting position and passing him the goblet. "Drink it all, and when you're feeling up to it, you may go back to your dormitory. But no strenuous activities for at least forty-eight hours, understood?" Phillipe nodded and winced at the movement.

Madam Pomfrey nodded and moved off again, shooting Gwyn another dark look as she left. Gwyn stuck her tongue out as soon as the nurse's back was turned.

"How are you feeling, Phillipe?" Hermione asked kindly, moving over to him.

"My 'ead is 'urt," he said testily as he drank the last of his potion. He turned to Harry, and Harry almost flinched at the intensity of his gaze. "If I 'ad not been pushed, I would not be 'urt, I think."

"Harry saved your life, mate!" Ron exclaimed. "That thing was headed right for you, if you hadn't noticed."

Phillipe scowled. "It should not 'ave 'appened," he said vehemently. He slammed the goblet down onto the table next to his bed and stood, swayed for a moment, and put out one hand to steady himself. Hermione reached over to help him, but he shrugged away, storming off towards the infirmary door.

"That's gratitude for you!" Ron exclaimed. "What a prat!"

"He's had a bad time of it here, Ron," Hermione said a bit uncertainly.

"Guys," Gwyn said suddenly, "do you think Harry and I could have a few minutes to ourselves?"

Ron looked surprised for a moment, then grinned lecherously. Hermione rolled her eyes and grabbed his elbow, dragging him to his feet. "Of course you can," she said graciously, shoving Ron towards the door. "We'll save you some dinner, okay Harry?"

Harry nodded, trying not to look at Gwyn. He wasn't sure what she was doing there, nor what she wanted to say to him. She was being awfully sweet, and the abrupt change worried him.

The moment the infirmary door closed, however, Gwyn sighed deeply.

"Harry," she said softly, "can you ever forgive me for being such a jerk?"

Harry blinked at her. "Sorry?" he said.

She glanced up at him. "It's just, I didn't know what to think when you told me about what happened -- with the mistletoe and all. I was already so mad that you'd had such a fun vacation, and mine was so awful, and then to hear that you'd spent part of yours kissing someone else..."

"It wasn't--" Harry interrupted quickly. "Ginny and I -- we're just--"

"I know," Gwyn interrupted. "I mean, I know now. Padma told me all about what happened your second year, and how Ginny had a crush on you for a while, but that now you're just friends."

Harry reeled, silently wondering if everyone in the school were as well informed as Padma about his relationship with Ginny Weasley.

Gwyn took a deep breath. "I overreacted," she said softly, "and I'm a big enough person to admit it. Especially..." Her voice trailed off.

"Especially what?" Harry prompted. Gwyn reached out and put her hand softly over his. Her skin was warm and soft, and he felt a familiar tingle run up his spine at her touch.

"Especially after I realized that you've been telling me the truth all along," she said quietly. "You really did do all the things you said you did, and you really are in danger."

Harry sighed. "Gwyn," he said, but at the same moment, Madam Pomfrey came back over.

"Mr. Potter," she said briskly, "the Headmaster has asked me to send you to his office as soon as you are rested."

"I'm feeling much better," Harry told her.

Gwyn stood up and smoothed her robes. "I'll walk with him to Professor Dumbledore's office," she said firmly, "and make sure that he doesn't overexert himself."

Harry gave Gwyn an incredulous look, and Madam Pomfrey narrowed her eyes unpleasantly. She turned to look at Harry.

"No strenuous magic for at least two days, and you're to come straight back to see me if you aren't feeling better in the morning," she cautioned. "Spell drain is not something to take lightly, do you understand, Mr. Potter?"

Harry nodded quickly and stood to follow Gwyn out of the room. Madam Pomfrey crossed her arms over her chest and huffed as they departed.

"Good evening, Harry," Professor Dumbledore said calmly as he ushered Harry into his office. "You're feeling better, I hope?"

Harry nodded, glanced around the room, and was a little surprised to see Remus and Professor McGonagall waiting for him. He wasn't sure why Dumbledore had called them too. "I was just a bit worn out, sir," he finally replied."

"And Mr. Fontaine?" Dumbledore continued, as he gestured for Harry to sit.

"He's okay, I think. He got a bump on the head when I knocked him over," he paused and frowned. "He acted like I did it on purpose -- "

Dumbledore regarded him coolly. "We should try not to judge Mr. Fontaine too harshly," he said after a moment. "He is having a difficult year. "

"I'm sure you can relate, Harry," Remus said softly.

Harry glanced at him curiously.

"His parents were very outspoken lobbyists with Ministère du Magique. They weren't happy with their government's policy of isolationism and wanted their Premier to join our Ministry in the fight against Voldemort," Remus explained. "They were murdered by Death Eaters, and Phillipe was sent here, to Dumbledore, that he might be better protected."

Harry didn't know what to say. He realized now why Professor Sprout had thought that he and Phillipe had a lot in common. But, whereas he had had the last six years to put his parents' murders behind him, Phillipe had had less than a year. That was bound to put anyone in a bad mood.

"Harry," Professor Dumbledore continued after a moment, "I've asked you here to discuss the events that took place earlier this afternoon."

Harry's stomach sank. "This isn't about Hagrid, is it, Professor? Only, it was an accident. He's been doing loads better. He even set us an essay last week on chimeras, and--"

Professor Dumbledore held up a hand to stop him. "This has nothing to do with Hagrid, Harry. He asked permission to bring the chimera to your lesson, and I gave it. He is not in any kind of trouble."

"We're here to talk about what happened to you, Harry," Remus said quietly, "and what we're going to do about it."

"We think we have come up with a plan," Professor McGonagall said.

Harry frowned, not sure he understood.

"Harry," Professor Dumbledore said, standing once again and moving to a side door that led off of his office, "I'd like for you to meet your new housemate, Dorian Tucker."

Harry turned to look as Dumbledore opened the door. A boy about his own age with a rather pronounced limp, leaning on a cane, stepped into the room. He had mousey brown hair, brown eyes, and a turned up button nose. He was dressed in a school uniform, but Harry had never seen him before.

"Wotcher, Harry!" the boy said in an oddly familiar voice. The boy's face began to wobble strangely. The nose stayed the same, but his features softened, his hair began to grow, and his body started to change.

Harry frowned. "Tonks?" he said uncertainly.

Tonks grinned.

"Tonks is going to live at Hogwarts for a while," Remus said laying a hand on Harry's shoulder, "to be your body guard."

"My what?" Harry blurted, shrugging off the hand and turning to face Remus. "I don't need a body guard!"

"I know it's a bit hard to swallow," Remus said, his expression implacably calm, "but we think it's for the best."

"For whose best?" Harry demanded. "I'm going to be the laughing stock of the school -- again!"

"That is why Tonks' true identity and purpose here will be kept secret," Dumbledore said firmly. "No one will know that she is anything more than a new student."

"Besides," Tonks the boy said with a familiar grin, "it'll give me something to do until I can go back to work. I've been stir crazy sitting at home. And who knows," she mused. "It might be fun to be back at school again." She glanced at Professor McGonagall. "I can do all the stuff I never would've dared to when I was here the first time around."

Professor McGonagall pressed her lips together but said nothing. She was still watching Harry.

Harry wanted to explode. "I don't need a body guard," he announced again, forcing himself to sound reasonable. "What happened earlier today was just an accident."

"It wasn't," Remus said shaking his head. "The chimera's lead was magically severed, and it was hit with a Confundus Charm to disorient and upset it. The zoo officials in Cairo are furious." He glanced at Dumbledore and then back at Harry. "We do not know who was responsible, but it was most definitely not an accident."

"And if you had not had the presence of mind to conjure a shield charm," Professor McGonagall added tersely, "it would have been murder."

Harry scowled. "That's rubbish," he said. McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "It can't have been meant as an attack on me," he insisted. "It went for Gwyn first. The only reason it turned is that Phillipe made a noise."

"What other student would it be sent to attack?" Tonks asked. "I mean, no one else in your class is wanted, are they, Harry?"

Harry considered this. "What about Hagrid?" he asked. "What if someone did it to make Hagrid look bad? There are -- people -- in the class who want to see him sacked."

Professor Dumbledore folded his hands neatly on top of his desk. "Do you have a particular person in mind?" he asked.

Harry narrowed his eyes; Dumbledore knew full well who he was talking about, but he said it anyway. "Malfoy."

"Ah," Professor Dumbledore said neutrally. "But, recall, Mr. Malfoy was occupied at the time the charms were performed. He and Hagrid were discussing the matter of a copied assignment if I am not mistaken."

Harry's certainty began to slip away. How could Malfoy have cast the spells with Padma and Hagrid, not to mention most of the rest of the class, staring right at him? "He must have had an accomplice," he said aloud.

"That is a theory that merits examination," Dumbledore said equitably, "but it does not negate the fact that you have been viciously attacked twice already this year. Possibly thrice." He looked Harry directly in the eye, and Harry had the uncomfortable impression that the Headmaster could see his every thought. He fought the urge to block his mind, reminding himself that he had nothing to hide. "Your safety is paramount, Harry," Professor Dumbledore finally said, "and we have left it to chance for far too long."

Harry hunched his shoulders, as much as admitting defeat. Tonks limped over and slung an arm around his shoulders. "It won't be so bad. It'll just be like living at headquarters, right? One big sleepover. Only with school food and lessons."

"But..." Harry's eyes opened wide. "You're a girl, Tonks!"

Tonks gave him a horrified look. "Who are you calling a girl?" She began to morph again, slowly changing until she again resembled a 16 year old boy. "Am I going to have to beat you up to protect my manly honor?" she demanded.

Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes. "No one is going to believe that you are a Gryffindor sixth year boy if you say things like that." She sniffed. "Do try to teach her some proper slang, Mr. Potter, or she's going to stick out like a stubbed toe." Tonks looked scandalized that McGonagall of all people should be critiquing her coolness, but wisely she said nothing. Professor McGonagall stood and straightened her robes. "If you no longer need me, Albus, I have essays to mark."

She turned to go, but paused to give Tonks one last searching look. "Curfew is still nine o'clock, Mister Tucker." She smiled her thin lipped smile. "I will see you in class." The rest of them watched her go.

"Mr. Tucker already knows what is expected of him, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said as the door clicked shut. "And I think it would be best if we all became accustomed to calling him by his new name and pronoun as soon as possible." The Headmaster smiled kindly. "Perhaps you would be so good as to take our newest student down to dinner and introduce him to his classmates."

Dorian Tucker grinned excitedly around the room. Harry tried not to look as horrified as he really felt. As they turned to go, Harry caught Remus studying him. They locked eyes for a moment, and Remus opened his mouth as though there were something he wanted to say. Whatever it was, Harry didn't want to hear it. He turned away quickly and followed Dorian out of the room.

Harry sulked as the two of them walked down the corridors, Dorian's cane clicking rhythmically against the stones as he limped along slowly.

"Why Dorian?" Harry asked as he walked slowly along the corridor next to his new roommate.

The other boy shrugged. "Dad used to call me Dora. I thought I could go by Dor and it would be close enough I wouldn't get confused."

Harry nodded. "Dor, then," he said. They walked on for a few more minutes in silence.

"This is well weird, you know," Dor said, grinning as they passed the Charms classroom. "It's like going back in time. It's really a unique experience."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, but I bet the novelty'll wear off the first time you find yourself doing an essay for Professor McGonagall again," he replied.

Dor turned to stare at him, horrified. "She wouldn't," he breathed.

Harry laughed.

They reached the Great Hall and Dor paused in the doorway, staring wide eyed at the four house tables teeming with rowdy students, the high table where several of their professors were chatting quietly while they ate their dinner, and up at the magically enchanted ceiling, which was currently showing an almost completely dark sky with only the faintest suggestion of moonlight shining through the clouds.

"Cor," he whispered in awe. "I'd forgotten..."

"Hey Harry," Seamus called from nearby. "Who's that with you?"

"This is Dor," Harry said, willing himself not to look guilty or embarrassed. "New student. Gryffindor. He'll be in our dorm with us."

Seamus stood up and offered a hand to Dor, who shook it enthusiastically.

"Shed load of new students this year, eh?" Dean said, after introducing himself. Harry laughed nervously, agreed, and quickly steered Dor down the table towards Ron and Hermione.

Ron was staring openly at Dor as he limped along between the tables. He slung his cane over the bench and then sat very carefully, gingerly lifting his injured leg over to the other side. "Wotcher, Ron," he said as he reached for the plate of chops.

Ron stared, open mouthed. "How did you--"

"'Ello Hermione," Dor continued. "Pass the potatoes, will you? Ta love."

"Erm, do I know you?" Hermione said as she passed the bowl of potatoes across.

Dor gave her an innocently surprised look. "What? Have I changed so much?" The effect, however, was spoiled as the bowl of potatoes slipped out of his hands and crashed noisily to the table. "Whoops..." Dor said quietly.

Harry sighed. "Hermione, Ron, this is Dorian Tucker, new Gryffindor," he glanced around anxiously and lowered his voice, "also sometimes known as Nymphadora Tonks."

Dor shot him a dark look. "That was below the belt, Harry. No need to go dragging my name into things."

"Tonks?" Ron exclaimed. Harry kicked him under the table. "OW! What'd you do that for?"

"Because it's a secret, you spanner. Why else do you think she looks like that?"

"I don't understand," Hermione said with a shake of her head.

"I'm here to keep an eye on Harry," Dor said in a low whisper. "Dumbledore thought it would be best after the attack--"

"It wasn't an attack," Harry interjected testily.

Dor glanced over at him. "Oh, right. After Harry's close encounter of the deadly kind that most certainly wasn't possibly an attack--" he made a face at Harry "--Dumbledore thought it would be wise to have someone from the Order around him as much as possible." He smiled. "I was the natural choice, owing undoubtedly to my natural prowess on undercover jobs." He took a big bite of potatoes. "That and I'm the only one who can pass for a sixteen year old boy."

Ron was still gaping at Dor from across the table. "Wait a minute," he said suddenly. "So, you're going to be living with us then?"

Dor nodded, taking a very large bite of his dinner.

"Where though?" Ron asked. "I mean, you can't very well stay in our dormitory... can you?"

Dor grinned devilishly. "Why not?" he asked. "It's the boy's dormitory, and I'm a boy."

"But not really," Ron persisted.

"He's living with us, Ron," Harry said dejectedly pushing his carrots around on his plate.

"Don't sound so excited," Dor complained. "Look, it's going to be brilliant, right? It'll be just like this summer!"

"We didn't share a room this summer," Ron pointed out. The tips of his ears were beginning to turn pink.

Dor laughed. "Not to worry, Ron. I've no interest whatsoever in seeing you in your knickers. I'll be the heart of discretion and valor while I'm there."

"Well," Hermione said, dusting crumbs off of her hands, "I think it's an excellent idea."

"You do?" Harry gaped. He had been sure that Hermione, of all people, would balk at the impropriety of a girl living with the boys -- no matter what the girl might look like.

"Of course I do. Tonks -- er, Dorian -- is a professional and sh-- he -- is going to conduct himself professionally, I'm sure."

Dor nodded sanctimoniously to punctuate Hermione's words.

"Besides," Hermione continued, looking down at her plate, "I want you to be safe, Harry, and if there's someone in the school who's trying to kill you--"

"No one here is trying to kill me!" Harry exclaimed, exasperated. "I'm telling you, it was an accident. It's nothing like the first two attacks; the first two times the guy was trying to kidnap me, not kill me. Why change his tactics all of the sudden?"

Hermione didn't appear to have an answer for this. She pursed her lips defiantly.

"Well," Dor said around a mouthful of food, "hopefully we'll never find out if the two are related, because hopefully there won't be any more attacks. But if there are," he pointed a fork at Harry, "we'll be ready, won't we? These chops are brilliant. Pass us another, Ron. Thanks pet."

Ron faltered passing the plate of chops.

"What?" Dor asked.

"Pet?" Ron asked uncomfortably.

Dor laughed. "Guess I'd better watch that, or people will start thinking I'm a bit dodgy." He glanced around. "Though that might not be so bad, mind you. There are some fit seventh years, aren't there, Hermione? Too bad they're too young for me..."

Harry sighed, wondering whether it might not be better to just turn himself over to his would-be kidnappers and save himself the humiliation that would undoubtedly come from having Dorian Tucker for a body guard.

Just then, someone slid onto the bench next to Harry. He looked up and found Gwyn smiling at him. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

Harry shrugged.

"And who is this lovely lady?" Dor asked, leaning across Harry towards Gwyn. "Harry, aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"

"Er... Dor, this is Gwyn. Gwyn, this is Dorian Tucker. New Gryffindor."

Dor reached in front of Harry to shake Gwyn's hand and knocked a glass of pumpkin juice into Harry's lap.

"Whoops!" he exclaimed, drawing his wand quickly. "Sorry about that, mate. Lemme just..." He muttered a quick incantation and the juice dried. Harry frowned at him.

"Nice to meet you, Dor," Gwyn said charmingly. "I'm new this year, too. Where did you go to school before here?"

Dor grinned brightly, and Harry got the impression that he was keen on telling someone the story he'd made up for himself.

"Hong Kong," he replied. "Brilliant international magic school. My dad was stationed there on business and brought the rest of us along. Good to be back on British soil, though."

"Oh, I loved Hong Kong!" Gwyn exclaimed. "Dad took me with him once when he had a conference there." She leaned forward across Harry to be able to speak to Dor better, and Harry quickly moved his pumpkin juice out of reach. "And Asian music is so fascinating. I'm a musician, you see. Did you study any Asian culture while you were there?"

"Erm..." Dor said, looking uncomfortable. "Oh, yeah sure. Of course we did. Brilliant stuff."

Gwyn smiled, then glanced at Harry, who was frowning at Dor. "Are you sure you're feeling all right?" she asked.

Harry sighed. "I'm just tired. I think I'll turn in early." He glanced over at Dor. "Come on," he said flatly. "I'll show you where Gryffindor Tower is."

Gwyn patted him on the arm gently. "Sleep well," she said in a low voice. "I'll see you tomorrow." With that, she kissed him quickly on the cheek and left for her own table. Harry started to smile in spite of himself. He looked up and saw Ron and Dor smirking at him.

"That your girlfriend, then, Harry?" Dor asked curiously. He let out a long, low whistle.

"Well we weren't so sure there for a while," Ron quipped, "but it seems things are back on track now." He fluttered his eyelashes moronically. "Sleep well Harry," he crooned in a lusty voice, punctuating his words with kissing noises. Harry kicked him under the table.

Hermione wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Kind of fickle, isn't she? One minute she'll barely look at you, and the next..."

"Come on, Dor," Harry said testily, rising from his seat. "I was serious about turning in early." He glanced at Ron who was still giggling. "Anything to get away from these gits."

Dor smirked and obligingly followed Harry out of the Great Hall.

"So," he said conversationally, "any chance we might make it to the library tomorrow?"

Harry frowned. "Maybe," he replied. "Why?"

Dor grinned sheepishly. "Well, I decided I ought to find out some stuff about Hong Kong."

The next day proved to be trying. Harry awoke feeling like he hadn't slept at all and groggily swung his legs over the edge of his bed, reaching for his glasses with one hand, and scratching his head with the other. He almost killed himself as he stood and nearly collided with the new bed that had been inserted into the room for the newest Gryffindor. Harry frowned.

It wasn't that he didn't like Tonks. On any given day, he would probably have put her quite near the top of his list of favorite people; she was young, and fun, and one of the few adults he knew who tended to treat him like a real person rather than a kid. She was good for a laugh and handy in a fight, and Harry had often daydreamed about someday working as an Auror with her and Kingsley.

Dorian Tucker, however, was another story.

Feeling inordinately grumpy, Harry dug into the bedclothes to find his missing sock, pulled it on, and stomped out of the room across the cold landing to the welcome warmth of the bathroom. Moving without thinking, Harry hung his tee shirt on a hook on the wall, and grabbed his toothbrush and a towel from the shelves, moving over to one of the two sinks. He took off his glasses to wash his face, and ran some hot water into the basin, splashing himself, trying to will himself awake.

He heard the door open behind him as he reached for his towel.

"Morning Harry."

"Morning," Harry muttered into his towel, glancing blearily in the mirror at the reflection of the brown haired boy standing behind him. Suddenly, something clicked.

He whirled around, clutching the towel in front of him like a shield.

"AHH!" he shouted, appalled.

Dor jumped and whipped his wand out of his robe pocket crouching into a fighting stance and wincing on his bad leg. "WHAT?" he shouted back.

Harry stared at him, fumbling around blindly on the edge of the sink for his glasses. They slid into the basin with a clink.

"What are you DOING?" he demanded. "Get OUT of here!"

Dor relaxed slowly, putting his wand back into his pocket and running a hand through his hair. "And go where, exactly?" he asked blandly. "You reckon I should go knock on Hermione's door and ask to use their loo?"

"Well!" Harry sputtered. "Well! You can't stay here! Not while there's other people in here!"

Dor rolled his eyes. "Harry," he said softly, "what part of body guard did you not understand? I'm supposed to follow you everywhere." He yawned and scratched the top of his head. "And unless this toilet somehow exists outside of space and time, it is included in 'everywhere,' okay?"

Harry sighed. "Fine. I am allowed to take a shower by myself, aren't I? Because if not, you're just going to have to put up with the smell, 'cause there's no way in hell--"

Dor laughed. "Of course you can. Merlin's balls, Harry. Lighten up."

He turned and headed for one of the cubicles as Harry grabbed his shirt and hastily made for the showers.

"How do I..." Dor began.

"If you complete that sentence," Harry growled, "I will be scarred for life."

Dor just laughed.

By the time they made it to Charms, Harry was already sick of his shadow. He hadn't been able to really talk to Ron or Hermione about what they thought had happened with the chimera, and who might be responsible. Even more worrisome was the fact that he thought he'd seen Gwyn batting her eyelashes at Dor as they walked to Charms -- which was disturbing for too many reasons to count.

The class was working on advanced illusions this term, and it was rough going. Gwyn was the only person in the class -- much to Hermione's continued consternation -- who had been able to conjure a realistic looking owl as Professor Flitwick had assigned.

Harry tried to concentrate on his own non-existent owl for a few moments before realizing that, in his current state of mind, it was all but hopeless.

"Harry," Ron whispered as soon as Dor and Gwyn were occupied discussing conjuring, Hong Kong, and peacocks, "what do you reckon about Malfoy?"

"I don't know how he did it," Harry replied under his breath, "but I'd bet you anything he was behind the chimera attack."

Ron blinked at him. "Really? But how could he--" he shook his head. "That's not what I was talking about. I mean, what do you reckon about the potion Fred and George sent us? I think we should use it as soon as possible. Dinner. Tonight."

"We still don't know what it does," Harry said skeptically. "And then there's Dor."

Ron glanced over Harry's shoulder at Dor sitting on his other side. "You think he'd rat us out?"

Harry shrugged. Their conversation was interrupted as Professor Flitwick toddled by, checking on their progress, and they didn't have a chance to talk for the rest of the lesson. Hermione finally conjured her own small, white chicken feather just before the lesson was over.

"It's all right you know," Dor said quietly as they gathered their books.

"What is?" Harry asked.

"The only thing I absolutely have to tell Dumbledore is if someone tries to kill you. Otherwise, mum's the word."

Harry turned to look at him sharply. "You heard Ron and me talking?" he asked.

Dor nodded. "Superhuman Auror hearing," he said with a serious face. "But seriously, it would be total crap if you had to worry about me telling on you all the time, I know. So we'll call a truce, OK? As long as it doesn't have to do with your overall health and wellbeing, no one's going to find out about it from me, right?"

Harry thought about this for a moment, decided he didn't have much of a choice, and nodded. Dor grinned happily. "So," he whispered conspiratorially, "what are you planning to do to Malfoy at dinner?"

Harry shouldered his bag and shrugged. "You'll see."