Happily Ever After?

Chapter 11- Acceptance

Draco... Draco! Draco...

What? Draco sounded annoyed.

Draco... Virginia Michaels is Gigi... remember? That girl who was so awful to Sirius... and Mum and Dad have been attacked by Death Eaters...

WHAT?

Draco, this is BAD! Mum and Dad have been attacked right after Dumbledore's released Michaels... she's probably a Death Eater... and she knows things about the Order, too! Draco, I think it was MICHAELS who gave Hermione the poison... and it was Michaels that Dumbledore let go! HE LET HER GO, DRACO! HE LET HER GO! And now she's rounded up some more Death Eaters and they're after Mum and Dad and probably Sirius and Remus too...

Harry, calm down...

Calm down? CALM DOWN?! Draco, my parents' LIVES are on the line here! They're off in hiding somewhere as we speak... how could we be so stupid? And she's the one who tried to kill Hermione! Hermione's just an innocent bystander to all this, I was talking her in the hall, she wouldn't even look at me, she shouldn't be like this -

HARRY!

Harry threw a nasty glance at the Slytherin table. What?

Take a deep breath. Good. Now - you KNOW there's nothing we can do about what's already been done. And we can't do anything about Death Eaters, either. Not now. All we can do is work on this antidote. There's nothing else we can do.

But -

AND you can keep in touch with your mum and dad. We'll see them at Mum's wedding, right?

Right...

Harry, family bonds are more important than ever now...

Harry took a deep breath and sat down. Right... right, just keep a cool head and... right. OK.

Harry finished his Yorkshire pudding calmly. Ron glanced at him.

"Are you okay, Harry?"

"Fine," Harry said softly. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure...?"

"Positive." Harry stood up. "I have to write a letter. I'll see you in History of Magic, right?"

"Right," Ron sighed. "You do that, Harry."

Harry walked out of the Great Hall quickly and looked around before entering the empty Charms classroom. "Alohomora," he muttered. A section of wall opened up and Harry walked through it, closing it behind him.

Harry sat down at a chair and levitated the writing desk so he could reach it. He pulled out some parchment, a quill, and an inkbottle. Dipping the quill into the ink, he thought carefully before writing out his letter, grateful that they had a break until their last class, History of Magic.

Mum and Dad-

Are you okay? I don't believe you were attacked... of course, I should be learning to expect the unexpected...

Hermione's under the influence of the Draught of Non Cras - you know what that is, right? It's probably the worst poison in the world, and the Order (minus Hermione) just finished making it with Snape so we can find an antidote before its too late...

Virginia Michaels was Hermione's impostor! And Dumbledore let her go... I can't help but wonder if she had something to do with your attack...

Please tell me you're OK, I love you guys, I couldn't bear it if something happened to you. Keep in touch.

From Love,

Harry

Harry looked it over and folded it carefully, sliding it into his pocket. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

It was hard to believe that five years ago - five short years, that was not such a very long time - all he had to worry about was not accidentally getting the Dursleys worked up enough to lock him in his cupboard.

He sat back in the chair and closed his eyes. He was so tired...

When Harry opened his eyes again, he glanced at the clock that hung in the corner of the lobby.

"Five o'clock?" Harry said, grabbing his bag. "It's time for History of Magic! I must have fallen asleep..."

Harry walked into History of Magic five minutes late. However, Professor Binns failed to notice. Quietly, Harry sat next to Ron.

"You missed Care of Magical Creatures!" Ron hissed as Harry sat down. "I looked all over for you - where have you been?"

"I fell asleep," Harry muttered, flattening his hair.

Ron gave Harry a look of sympathy. "I'm going to fail this OWL!" Ron groaned softly, changing the subject. "Hermione's been taking notes for me all year, and now I'm afraid to ask her for them..."

"Add to it the fact that I'm falling asleep again already," Harry yawned, "and we're toast."

"But that means we can give it up after fifth year," Ron said, suddenly cheerful. "This is great!"

"I'd still rather not listen to lectures on how we should have studied harder," Harry muttered. "If I could scrape a pass, I'd be ecstatic."

"If I could scrape a pass, I'd die of shock."

Harry snorted before falling into Binns's trance again. He amused himself by counting the tiles on the ceiling and watching a spider scuttle across the floor. Harry felt his eyelids drooping... Ron snorted loudly, pulling Harry back to his senses. Harry groaned quietly and laid his head down on the table, ready to go to sleep...

It seemed about two seconds before Ron was kicking him under the table.

"Class is over," he said. "Time for dinner."

"Not hungry," Harry said, standing up. "What time is it?"

"It's five after six," Ron said, glancing at the clock in the classroom.

"Great... look, I'll talk to you later, okay? I have to mail this letter..."

Ron nodded with sympathy. "You - you do that, Harry... I'll talk to you later..."

Harry walked in the direction of the Owlery, but his mind was wandering elsewhere... namely, to the dungeons. Once he reached the Owlery, he called down Hedwig absentmindedly. She fluttered down and Harry attached the letter to her leg.

"Take this to mum and dad, okay?" Harry said under his breath. "You know where they are, don't you?"

Hedwig hooted softly. Harry stroked her.

"Hurry, won't you?" Harry said. "Please?"

Hedwig hooted and took off. Harry watched her fade into the horizon. Then he sighed and turned. He walked out of the Owlery and down the stairs. He walked past the Great Hall, which was buzzing with noise from the students eating dinner. He walked all the way down to the dungeons, and then he walked all the way to the end of a musty underground corridor. He knocked on a door and waited, shoving his hands in his pockets. The door opened. Harry looked up.

"I'm ready to work, Professor."

Snape blinked. "I'd thought you would be at dinner, Potter... or is it that Gryffindor bravery that is bringing you here, to do the right thing?"

Harry did not answer - he did not say a word. Snape let him into the office.

"You are free to use any ingredient you find on the shelves," Snape said, gesturing to the walls covered with shelves. "Use this," he said, thrusting a lime green quill Harry recognized as a Quick-Quotes Quill, "to record your work. It's been charmed not to twist what you're saying," he added, although Harry had not said anything. Snape waved his wand and a cauldron appeared on the table. "I've already been working on a serum of my own," he added, gesturing to a sizzling cauldron on the other side of the long table, "So I would be grateful if you did not disturb me."

Harry nodded and walked over to the wall. He pulled down dried Mandrake leaves, phoenix tears, and Kneazle claws and put them down by his cauldron. He picked up a grater and started grating a Kneazle claw. Snape looked surprised.

"Kneazle claws, Potter?"

"They're key ingredients in the Mandrake Restorative Draught, aren't they?" Harry muttered. Snape accepted this as an answer and went back to his own potion. Harry finished grating the Kneazle claw and measured out two grams. He placed the Quick-Quotes Quill on an open roll of blank parchment that was lying on the table.

"Two grams powdered Kneazle claw," he muttered, and the words appeared, shining with freshness. Harry took a measuring cup and added twenty-three milliliters of phoenix tears. As the quill added that below the Kneazle claws, Harry caught sight of a large jar Snape was using - its label said bezoar extract.

"Can I borrow that?" Harry asked, pointing to the jar. Snape slid it towards him. "Thanks."

Harry picked up the jar and added exactly half a liter of bezoar extract. He lighted the fire under his cauldron and stirred it for a few minutes, all the while taking notes on the Quick-Quotes Quill. About ten minutes later, after adding three dried Mandrake leaves and making sure that they dissolved, Harry sighed and looked down at the light brown mixture.

"The poison is in there, Potter," Snape said, pointing to his desk. "Second drawer down on the right. There's an eyedropper in there, too."

Harry pulled out a clear vial of the poison and looked at it with his head cocked to the side. Then he walked back over to his potion and put the eyedropper in it, filling it. "Only five drops, Potter," Snape said warningly. "No more - no less."

Harry still did not respond. He took his wand and whispered, "Calamus." His wand sprouted a quill tip and he drew a line on the side of the vial, marking how much was in the bottle.

Harry carefully opened the bottle. He took the eyedropper and squeezed it gently five times before putting the cap back on. He held his breath and closed his eyes.

When he opened them... nothing had happened. The poison was just as clear as it had been a few seconds ago. Snape sighed.

"Pour it down the drain, Potter," he said, pointing to the sink. Harry did so obediently, watching the deadly venom swirl down the drain harmlessly.

The door opened at that moment. Parvati, Ron, and Padma entered silently. Snape gave them instructions while Harry stared down at the useless potion in front of him.

"Evanesco."

The potion disappeared. The three others had set to work, not speaking.

"Try again, Potter," Snape said, ripping off the parchment that had been used and shoving it in his pocket. Harry balanced the quill again and began.

The room was resounding with silence. Harry worked feverently. The only sound was people whispering to their quills and the chopping and grinding of various ingredients.

Harry tried another antidote.

Nothing.

He tried another.

Nothing.

Harry vaguely heard Draco and Hannah enter the room. A short time after, Ron, Parvati, and Padma left, just as silently as they had come. An indeterminable amount of time later, Hannah left also. But Harry and Draco remained, working hard... working noiselessly... working relentlessly...

Harry finished another potion. This one was a light shade of green. He had lost track of how many potions he had tried long ago. He dropped five drops into the vial and waited, holding his breath.

Nothing happened.

Harry sighed and drained his vial. He picked up his wand and turned to his cauldron - but it was not his voice that broke the resounding silence in the room.

"Evanesco."

Harry's useless potion disappeared. Harry turned and Snape was putting his wand in his pocket.

"You two have had enough," he said firmly. "Potter, you've been here four hours... Malfoy, you've been here three. You've long missed curfew. Go to bed."

Obediently, they picked up their bags and walked to the door. Harry turned and looked Snape in the eye. Snape held his eye contact for a good ten seconds before bending down and measuring more bezoar extract. Harry turned and left.

"Kitchens?" Harry asked.

Draco did not respond - rather, he just started walking in the direction of the kitchens. After tickling the pear, they entered the kitchens quietly, and were met, yet again, by a mad swarm of house-elves.

"Can we have two cups of tea?" Draco asked wearily. "Thanks."

The mad swarm of house-elves ran off to get tea. Harry sat on his dad's chair. Draco turned Sirius's so it was facing Harry's and sat down. They stared at each other.

"Why weren't you at dinner?" Draco asked.

"Wasn't hungry," Harry muttered.

"And you missed Care of Magical Creatures."

"I know."

"Why?"

"I fell asleep in the lobby," Harry said with a yawn. Draco looked at him.

"You look like a right mess, that's for sure."

Harry shrugged. "So?"

"Excellent point." Draco sighed as the house-elves brought over a tea tray.

"Thanks," he said. "That's all we need, really."

The house-elves drifted away. Harry sighed.

"We could really use a table..."

Draco plunged into his pocket, pulled out his wand, and flicked it. A table appeared out of nowhere. Draco set the tea tray on it and drained his cup of tea immediately, pouring himself more.

"I can't believe you spent three extra hours with Snape."

"I hadn't really realized it until he said so," Harry shrugged.

It was obvious Draco was trying to avoid talking about Harry's parents. "Even if it is for a good cause..."

"He's really not that bad," Harry said. "Barely said anything to me the whole time I was there. It was a lot easier to work without him breathing down my neck..."

"Kind of makes you wonder why we hated him so much, doesn't it?" Draco said thoughtfully, stirring his tea absentmindedly. "Aside from the fact that he despises our parents. And the rest of the world, almost," Draco added, as an afterthought. "Really. It's weird."

"We should wait for another Potions lesson with him before we judge him," Harry sighed. "See if he's still a jerk in public."

"Yea..." Draco sighed. "I really can't wait until Arabella gets back..."

"Why? Well, I'll admit it's a lot quieter without the crazy old lady on the loose...?"

"Nah, that's not it," Draco smiled. "I'm just curious to see how she handles Snape - of all people - trying to wrangle us out of detention..."

Harry laughed. "Oh, I'd forgotten about that. I'm sure it will be an interesting event..."

"To say the very least..."

They stopped laughing and Harry took a long sip of his tea. Draco glanced at him.

"Harry, are you okay?"

Harry blinked and put down his cup. "Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Would you like the alphabetical or chronological list?"

Harry looked at Draco, trying to keep his face expressionless. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I think you do." Draco leaned in towards Harry, who didn't move.

"You can't stand the fact that Lily and James have been attacked. It's practically eating you alive. You know that there must be some connection with Dumbledore letting Michaels go and their attack. You think that if you had just told Dumbledore to hold on while you checked Virginia Michaels's record, they might be safe. Isn't that what you think?"

Harry sat back and looked at Draco with an odd expression on his face. "Are you absolutely sure," Harry said, "that you're not the mind-reader?"

Draco leaned back again and sipped his tea delicately. "Quite sure. You're rather predictable, if you hadn't noticed."

"I'll make a note of it."

They stared at each other for a long moment. Neither of them moved.

"I ought to get back," Harry said finally. "People will wonder where I've been."

Draco shrugged. "Yea. And I think we both should get some sleep. We could use it."

"We could," Harry said, rubbing his eyes. "I'm exhausted..."

"We don't talk enough," Draco muttered. "We haven't been able to exchange a word all week."

Harry sighed. "Well... we've been busy."

"It's no excuse," Draco said, standing up. "I'm going to bed. See you around, Harry."

"See you, Draco," Harry said. He stood up, waved a cheery good-bye to Dobby, and left also.

When Harry walked into the Great Hall with Ron the next morning, yawning from lack of sleep, he was met with mumbles across the Hall. A pair of Ravenclaw girls literally squealed and ran to the other side of the hall. Harry blinked as he sat down at the Gryffindor table.

"What's their problem?" he muttered to Ron. Even the Gryffindors were avoiding his eye, though they did not physically back away. He took a swig of pumpkin juice, frowning. What was wrong with everyone? His question was answered when Parvati, shaking sat down next to them.

"Harry..." she said weakly. "You need to see this..."

She held out an issue of the Daily Prophet. Harry grabbed it and, upon reading the headline, spit out his pumpkin juice all over the paper.

The Boy-Who-Made-Them-Live?

Potter family full of Dark wizards

"That's ridiculous," Ron muttered, grabbing the paper. "There's got to be a mistake..."

"So you've seen it?"

Draco was holding a newspaper in his hand also, looking down on it in disgust. "Can you believe this?" he said. "Harry, they've made you out to be some psycho-Dark freak!"

Ron gulped and started reading the article in a hushed voice.

"The Ministry has been informed of evidence that Lily and James Potter, parents of Harry Potter, who were announced alive mere weeks ago, are not really who they claim to be.

"While they are, indeed, the parents of Harry Potter, they are not the Light wizards they have claimed to be, but spies for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

"Two days ago the Potter's home was 'attacked' by Death Eaters. But, according to Malcolm Macnair, a witness to the event, the 'attack' was not what the Potters claim it was.

" 'It wasn't a meeting,' Macnair announced to court officials yesterday. 'It was a meeting. The Potters organized the event and, when Sirius Black stumbled in, they made it look like an attack.'"

"The Ministry was appalled by the new information. A search has been issued for Lily and James Potter. They are armed and dangerous, the Minister says. Any sightings of the escaped Death Eaters should be reported immediately.

"The bastards... oh, wait, there's more...

"Suspicion now arises around Harry Potter, an unlikely hero, the son of Death Eaters. A former close friend of Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, gave this reporter information on the Boy-Who-Lived.

" 'Harry Potter has always been going on about how he'd do anything to get his parents back,' said Granger, 15, an esteemed Gryffindor fifth-year. 'He used Necromancy to bring his parents back to life and now the three of them are trying to overthrow You-Know-Who - and form their own supreme empire. Harry Potter must be stopped.'

"Necromancy, of course, is a branch of Dark magic requiring immense power, if it is to be successful. However, one might expect this from the one who defeated You-Know-Who at the tender age of eighteen months.

"The question is raised whether students at Hogwarts are safe while Harry Potter is there. We can only hope Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, will care more for his students' safety than his favorite pupil, Potter."

Ron looked at Harry. "What rubbish," he said, shoving the paper at Parvati, who looked surprised.

"I can't believe they believe this," Harry said, glancing around the Hall. "They - they believe it. How - how could Hermione...?" Harry's voice broke.

"That's why they believe it," Parvati said downheartedly. "Because they know Hermione's one of your best friends. Why should they think she'd lie?" Parvati kicked the air.

"It's rubbish," Draco said. "It's a pile of dragon dung. Anyone who believes this is a bratty little coward!" He sighed in frustration and looked Harry hard in the eye.

"Dumbledore's going to be furious when he finds out," Ron said. "Dumbledore will straighten it out. He'll - "

"No one will believe Dumbledore," Draco said under his breath, shifting his glance to Dumbledore. "This is exactly what the Ministry wants. I'll bet you they're so happy they let Macnair off the hook."

"This is impossible," Harry said quietly. "This is too bizarre. It doesn't make sense. How does anyone believe this rubbish?" He looked around at the three people surrounding him, who exchanged looks. "You... you don't believe it, do you?"

"How could we?" Parvati said softly. "We know how Lily and James survived."

"And we know Hermione's not in her right mind," Ron added, very quietly. "We know it's not your fault..."

"I believe Harry," Draco said loudly, attracting attention from across the Gryffindor table and a few other tables. "And I pity anyone who doesn't." He stomped off to the Slytherin table and sat down next to Millicent, glaring at the paper before ripping it decidedly in two. Harry smiled distantly.

"That guy's off his rocker."

Harry glared at Ron. "Would you mind not insulting the one of only people who doesn't think I'm a crazed whacko?"

"They'll probably think he's got something to do with it now!" Ron said. "You know what people think about him, Harry, even if you insist it's not true - "

" - Because it's not!"

" - Whatever, Harry, I'm just saying that he's a Malfoy, and you can't change that!"

"So?" Harry said. "Just because his last name's different than yours - "

" - that's not it, I wouldn't give a kneazle if his last name was Smith or something like that, but it's Malfoy, for crying out loud!"

" - You're such a prick, I thought you were better than this - "

" - You're such an idiot, I thought you were smarter than this! He's Malfoy! M - A - L - F - O - Y! MALFOY! You know, the guy you despise beyond all reasoning?"

"I thought we'd discussed this already, Ron!"

"That doesn't make it anymore stupid!" Ron said, standing up. Harry was vaguely aware that most of the Great Hall was watching them. "You know, maybe you are teamed up with him! You'll probably sneak up and throttle us all in our sleep!"

"You're ridiculous!" Harry said, standing up also. "You're losing your mind!"

"At least I'm not the one hanging around with Malfoy!"

"You think he's off his rocker? Look at you!" Harry was seeing red. "You're such an awful priss! Just because his family - "

" - is a bunch of evil, arrogant snobs who'd like nothing better than to smash you into bits - "

" - DOESN'T MEAN HE IS! DO YOU CARE ABOUT ANYTHING BUT YOURSELF, RON WEASLEY?"

"Yea, I do - I care about you enough to not want you to get KILLED! You're doing exactly what he wants you to, Harry! You're being just as bad as him!"

Harry's eyes lit with fire. Parvati grabbed the back of his robes so he wouldn't jump on Ron. Coincidentally, Fred and George were doing the same for Ron.

"MR. POTTER! MR. WEASLEY! ENOUGH OF THIS!"

Professor McGonagall was making her way down to the Gryffindor table. However, Harry wrenched out of Parvati's reach just in time and gave Ron a good slap on the cheek. Fred and George doubled their efforts. Ginny joined them.

"Come on, Ron, he's not worth it - "

"Just ignore him - "

"Not worth our time - "

"You three, too?" Harry said, feeling like he had been struck in the heart. Fred, George, and Ginny looked at each other. Parvati grabbed Harry and pulled him back again, but he kept shouting.

"Why is everyone deserting me now? You all were on my side, once, weren't you? Not all that long ago, was it? Last year - you all believed me then, didn't you? You all believed I didn't make it all up! You believed that I didn't kill Cedric! You - all of you - you believed me then, why not now?"

Professors McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, and Sprout were shouting and the Great Hall was in chaos. The first years were terrified - the Hufflepuffs were in complete disarray, the older ones comforting the younger ones, some of the first and second years running from the Hall. The younger Ravenclaws grouped together and talked in whispered tones, every few seconds glancing back at the screaming Harry Potter. The older ones tried to break up the group and lead them to classes, but to no avail.

"You've always believed me - you've always been on my side - even last night we were practicing together - now you're acting like you've always hated me, like you've always thought I was a lying bit of scum!"

The Slytherins were the only ones who were calm - they looked almost bored. As they finished their breakfasts they left the Great Hall in groups, glancing at Harry like something that was slightly amusing, but altogether old news.

"Why are you being such prats? Why are you acting like I'm a - a - I don't know what you're treating me like, put whatever it is, it's your equivalent to dirt!"

Meanwhile, the teachers were trying to calm the students. McGonagall and Snape had finally gotten through to the heart of the chaos, and had grabbed Harry and started pulling him out of the Great Hall, taking Parvati completely by surprised. Harry ignored them, still struggling to get at Ron - or any Weasley, really, he wasn't too choosy which.

"Didn't I save your life, Ginny? Didn't I? I got you out of the Chamber of Secrets! You would be dead if it wasn't for me!"

Ginny let go of Ron in surprise and whirled around, staring at Harry. Fred groaned in response as Ron doubled his efforts to get away.

Harry looked at her - she seemed... different. Almost... scared. His gaze drifted to Parvati... she, too, looked afraid. Hannah and Padma broke through the mob and talked quietly to Padma, glancing at him with looks of - fear. Fear. They were afraid of him.

Looking back on how he had exploded, what he had said, what was written about him in the paper - well, really, how could he blame them?

Harry slackened and allowed McGonagall and Snape to drag him away. His eyes flickered to one more person in the Hall. The one it was all about to begin with.

Draco was watching him quietly from the corner of the room. When their eyes met, Draco wrinkled his brow slightly.

What was -?

I don't want to talk about it.

Right. We'll just ignore it. That's the solution for everything, isn't it, Harry? We'll just ignore the fact that Hermione was just smiling, too, won't we? Of course, because we just don't want to deal with all this big, scary stuff, do we, Harry? Oh, wait - that's not US, it's YOU.

Harry gaped. What? Oh, Draco, no... not you too...

I'm serious, Harry, you're so -

Why don't you save it for someone who cares? Harry snapped. Like your darling Millicent. With a furious sigh, Harry shut down his brain to outside thoughts. He turned and looked Snape in the eye.

"You don't have to drag me," Harry said quietly. "I'm not insane."

Snape regarded him quietly and let go of his arms. McGonagall's voice shattered the silence.

"We don't think you're insane, Potter," she said, carefully not looking at him. "You started a fight in the Great Hall - "

"You mean Ron started a fight," Harry interrupted bitterly. "I didn't - "

"You allowed him to provoke you," Snape said as they walked into McGonagall's office. Snape closed the door tightly behind them.

"Sit," McGonagall said, waving her wand so that a stiff wooden chair appeared. Harry sat and looked at the professors standing before him. McGonagall sat at her desk and Snape stood in the background, looking at Harry with a look Harry had only seen on him once before - curiosity.

"Your behavior today was completely unacceptable, Mr. Potter," McGonagall began. "If Professor Dumbledore were here, he'd be - "

" - completely appalled and utterly disappointed, yea, I know," Harry said, looking down. A knot was rising in his stomach.

"He seems to understand the seriousness of what he has done, Minerva," Snape said, moving towards Harry slightly. "So the question is raised... if you knew the wrong of your actions, why did you - as you say - let Mr. Weasley aggravate you?"

Harry looked up and met Snape's gaze. "I didn't let him," Harry said profoundly. "Ron said something stupid and beneath him and I told him so."

"What did he say?" Snape said in a cold, smooth tone.

Harry held Snape's gaze calmly. "Professor Snape, do you believe people can change?"

Snape blinked. "Yes, Potter," Snape said easily. "Yes, I do."

"So do I."

Harry didn't make to say anymore. He crossed his arms and looked down at them, as if they were suddenly extremely interesting. "And - and do you believe that - once they change - can they can go back?"

Snape must have been bewildered, but his expression did not show it. "Yes, Potter," Snape said. "Yes, they can. They can always go back."

Harry did not say another word. Professor McGonagall cleared her throat.

"Potter, fifty points will be taken from Gryffindor for your appalling behavior. You will also serve detention - "

"Now, Minerva," Snape reasoned. "Is Mr. Potter really that much at wrong? He did, after all, admit that he was wrong, and seems to understand that he is not to repeat his actions." Harry looked up in utter bewilderment. "Or am I incorrect, Mr. Potter?"

Harry muttered something under his breath.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Potter, I didn't catch that."

"I said that you're right, sir," Harry said loudly. Snape observed him silently for a moment before continuing.

"Surely such a reasonable woman as yourself would not put such a regretful boy into detention?"

Ironic, isn't it, that Snape's defending me to my own House leader, Harry thought sulkily, examining McGonagall's expression with bittersweet amusement. She looked like Dumbledore was asking her to give Voldemort a second chance.

"I - I - Of course, Professor Snape," McGonagall said, looking lightheaded.

"Excellent," Snape said. "Now, Potter and I have an essay on antidotes to discuss, don't we, Potter?" Harry blinked and then nodded.

"I'd almost forgotten," he said under his breath.

"Come along then, Potter... I'll see you at dinner, Professor McGonagall."

"Yes... yes, of course, Severus," McGonagall said, still looking dizzy. Harry stood up silently and followed Snape out of the room and down into a door that led them into cold corridor that Harry had never entered before.

"Where are we?" Harry asked under his breath.

Snape shoved a door open and gestured for Harry to enter. Harry did silently. Snape closed the door behind him.

"My bedchambers."

Indeed, they were in a fairly large room with a desk that had a stack of papers on it, a few tables full of what looked like complicated potions brewing, a bookcase that was just about full, and a small four-poster bed in the corner. There was another room on the other side of the room that was closed with what, Harry presumed, was good reason. Three armchairs were positioned around a coffee table in the far corner of the room. They looked like they had gone unused for a long time. Snape sat down in one and stared at Harry.

"Sit down, Potter."

"Professor, I'm probably already late for Herbology - "

"I said, sit down, Potter."

Harry sat and tried not to look Snape in the eye. This was hard, however, because he could feel Snape's gaze on him no matter where he was looking.

"I thought I'd told you I wouldn't always be there to cover for you, Potter."

"I didn't ask you to, sir," Harry murmured, pretending to be very interested in a three-year-old Daily Prophet on the coffee table.

"You will explain to me the reasoning behind your actions."

Harry looked up and at Snape. "I don't think that's any of your business, sir."

"I think it is," Snape replied coldly, giving him a look Harry couldn't read. Harry let out a long sigh.

"If you must know, it was about Draco, all right? Professor?" Harry added quickly.

"Interesting," Snape replied. He was silent for a moment. "What about Mr. Malfoy were you arguing over?"

"Oh, you know. The usual. Whether he's evil or not." Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. What else would they argue about?

"I see," Snape said cuttingly. "May I ask what side you were defending?"

"Do you really not know?" Harry replied, feeling like Snape was playing dumb for him.

"There's no need to get snippety, Mr. Potter."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Draco's my friend," he answered, as if that explained things. Apparently, it did.

"And may I inquire what the verdict was?"

"Well," Harry replied bitterly, "we never really got to one, you see, because you and Professor McGonagall dragged me away before we could officially decide. But I'd estimate things were definitely bad and getting worse for me."

Snape gave Harry a pondering look. "I suppose," he said quietly, "that you are less like your father than I, or anyone else, anticipated."

Harry was taken aback, but answered in a smooth tone completely unlike his own, "I suppose I am."

"Does Mr. Malfoy know about this?"

"No," Harry said shortly. "No, and I suppose he won't know any time soon, seeing as I'm not speaking to him."

Snape stood up and folded his hands behind his back, facing a picture on the wall. A picture of - Harry caught his breath - his own mother was there, laughing silently and smiling happily. Snape watched the picture gravely.

"Isn't it ironic, Mr. Potter," Snape said softly, "how those we suffer much for make us suffer so greatly in return?"

Harry thought about this for a long moment. "Yes, Professor," Harry said quietly, thinking about Draco and feeling almost ill.

"And isn't ironic also," Snape said, still watching the picture, "how one second you start taking someone for granted - that they're gone?

"And isn't it ironic, too, that those we care for often scorn us in return? How often do we stop and check if we are taking someone for granted? How often do we stop to see if we're treating those we care for the right way? Not nearly often enough. And, more often than not, by the time we do, it's too late."

Harry listened to Snape's words and suddenly felt a surge of sympathy for the man. He understood Snape more in that one moment than the past four and a half years combined. And later - later, looking back on that moment, Harry felt that it was in that one moment of silence that he and Snape reached an understanding. A truce. A peace treaty. After that, four and a half years of loathing each other were all but forgotten. This truce was never spoken - it was a secret, unspoken alliance, and at that very moment, the very moment in which the alliance was formed, Harry felt old.

Very, very old.

At that moment Harry forgot all about the trouble he would face when he left this room - from Ron, from all the Weasleys, really, from Hermione, and, of course, from Draco, too. He forgot everything but pity and understanding. Not just understanding - acceptance. Acceptance of what was. Acceptance of what is. Acceptance of what will be, seconds, minutes, hours, days, months, years from that moment.

"You may go, Mr. Potter," Snape said almost silently, still watching the picture. Harry stood and walked to the door quietly. He turned and looked at the professor in front of him once more. Snape turned his gaze to Harry and their eyes met for a fleeting instance. "I will inform Professor Sprout that you were busy and not feeling up to learning after the episode at lunch," Snape said. "Go to the infirmary. Ask Madam Pomfrey for a Calming Draught. Do not feel obliged to attend your final class - however, I expect to see you in my office tonight."

"I - I'll be there," Harry said dully. "Good afternoon, Professor."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Potter."

Harry left and shut the door noiselessly behind him. He took a deep breath and started walking to the infirmary.

Madam Pomfrey gave Harry a Calming Draught without fuss, to Harry's surprise. She barely said a word to him, actually. This was not to Harry's surprise. When he left the hospital wing he felt a lot less agitated.

Harry knew that Transfiguration would be starting in about ten minutes, but honestly was just too exhausted, confused, and angry to even go. So he took up on Snape's offer and walked into the lobby with his mind off in the land of Confusing Things.

If his mind had been where it should have been, in his head, he might have noticed the other person in the room.

He closed the door behind him absentmindedly and sat down. The person in the room did not move. They regarded Harry quietly until finally his brain came back from vacation and parked back in his head.

It was then that Harry gasped, noticing the person for the first time.

"D-Draco?"

"Harry," Draco said quietly. "I thought you'd be in class."

"I - I thought you'd be in class!"

"Then great minds do think alike, don't they?" Draco asked, stretching backward and putting his feet on the coffee table.

"I - what are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

"Professor Snape told me I could skip class if I wanted to," Harry muttered, rubbing his head. "What's your excuse?"

"Me? I never have an excuse. Don't need one. I am, after all, me."

Harry made an odd noise in his throat. Draco frowned.

"So you're still mad?"

" I - you - mad?" Harry said angrily, glaring at him. "You called me a bloody coward! I'm furious at you!"

"Sure you are," Draco said, rolling his eyes.

"I mean it!"

"No you don't." Draco's voice was teasing and made Harry want to scream.

"I could slap you."

"Really? Great. I think a good slapping is just what I need. Here - I'll make it easier." Draco hopped over to the seat next to Harry and stuck his cheek in Harry's face. "Go on, slap me. I dare you."

And Harry did. Hard. So hard that Draco's cheek stung like something white-hot had been lashed across it. He winced, but pulled away slowly.

"Thanks."

Harry's eyes lit with flame. "You're not - supposed - to like it," he hissed.

"Oh. That's a shame, isn't it? Of course it's also a shame that you take things too seriously."

"I came here to think, not to talk to you."

"Not to slap me either?" Draco said, holding a hand up to his cheek. "It felt like you were planning it."

"I wasn't."

"Then you must be very good at slapping people," Draco said, rubbing his cheek hard. "Either that or my cheek is very vulnerable. Must look into that."

"You're such a bastard," Harry hissed.

"Yea, I suppose I am. But somebody had to tell you to face things like a man."

"I do - "

"No, Harry, you're not used to being treated like your own person. You never were before Hogwarts. It's new to you. That's okay. But - "

"I don't know what you're - "

"But someone had to tell you Harry, someone had to tell you that you're being an idiot for ignoring true love - "

"Malfoy, will you -?"

"But shouldn't it be someone who cares about you, Harry? Shouldn't someone who cares about your feelings tell you rather than someone who wouldn't give a damn?"

Harry looked at him. "I'm not ignoring anything," he hissed.

"Give me thirty seconds to talk without you interrupting me and maybe you'll understand!"

Harry regarded him. "I'm timing you," he answered.

Draco took a deep breath and started to talk very fast. "Hannah likes you, Harry, you know that, and I think she may even love you, and now you're snubbing her and I don't think you even remember that you kind of asked her out maybe you didn't think you did but it sure sounded like you did... I don't think Laura would like you being like this, Harry, I really don't, I think she'd be disappointed... I understand if you can't love her back, Harry, really, I do, but I think you should just stop being such a jerk and at least be her friend. Was that thirty seconds?"

"Twenty-six," Harry said, closing his eyes. "And - I guess you're right. In a way. I don't love Hannah. I don't like her in that way. But - I guess we can still be friends. I'm already mad at enough people in the Order."

"So... are we friends?"

"Yea. We're friends. And - you know I didn't mean it about Millicent."

"Of course I know," Draco said, rolling his eyes. "I mean, I told you that I - "

"I know," Harry said, smiling slightly. "And now that we're officially friends again, I think we ought to call off Operation Shake-It-Up. Temporarily, at least."

"I know what you mean," Draco sighed. "We're going to be kind of - busy."

"To put it lightly," Harry sighed. "And it seems kind of - I don't know - childish now that I look back on it. Or is it just me?"

"It feels like we did it ages ago," Draco agreed with a laugh, running a hand through his hair. "It does seem rather - juvenile. I mean, what were we thinking?"

"I don't think we were thinking," Harry said with a chuckle. "We were just stupid, I guess."

"Yea, well. Some things never change, eh, Harry?"

Harry glared at him. "Oh, pass the walnuts." (A/N: Had to add that. Couldn't resist. )

Harry walked down to Quidditch practice with his face set in a gloomy expression again. He looked around and didn't see anyone there yet. He mounted his broom and started to fly around absent-mindedly.

"You might want to watch out for that goalpost," came a voice from behind him. "It is solid metal, you know."

Harry turned and saw Parvati hovering a little ways behind him. So there had been someone on the pitch after all. Harry sighed and swerved off course so that he was facing her.

"I guess you're mad at me, too?"

Parvati rolled her eyes. "Of course not, you dolt!"

Harry blinked. "So you don't think I'm an insane mass-murderer?"

"No..." Parvati said. She went into a short dive and ended up about a foot in front of Harry when she pulled up. "No, I don't. I know that you're an insane but innocent teenager who ought to - argh!"

Parvati ducked and glared at Harry. Harry held out his hand and the apple came zooming back. He grinned slightly at Parvati.

"What were you saying?"

"Oh, you are so dead!"

For a few minutes Harry forgot all about Snape, all about Ron, all about Fred and George and all the blasted Weasleys, and just concentrated on hitting Parvati with apples as much as possible.

This reverie was broken five minutes after it started, when Angelina and Katie flew up to them. "What are you doing?" Katie asked. Harry and Parvati dropped the apples in their hands.

"Nothing," they said simultaneously. They looked at each other and grinned softly.

"So we're all here... where's -?"

Harry broke off and didn't complete his question. However, an answer to it appeared running into the field.

"Harry! Get down here, I've got something to say!"

Harry squinted. "Can it wait? I'm a bit - "

"No, Harold James Potter, it can't!"

Harry sighed and dived down to the ground. He dismounted in front of a distraught-looking Ginny Weasley.

"What is it?"

"They're not coming."

Harry's stomach lurched. The worst thing possible had happened. "What?"

"Fred, George, and Ron resigned a few hours ago. They said they won't play until they have a - mentally stable captain. They said it, not me," Ginny added, glancing at the look on Harry's face.

"They can't resign!" Harry shouted. "We've got a game in two weeks!"

"They did," Ginny said. "Listen, Harry - "

"Of all the stupid, spineless things to do - "

" - Harry - "

"I can't believe they didn't - "

"Harry!"

"What?" Harry glared at her.

"I - sorry!"

Harry blinked. "W-what?"

"I'm sorry for - for everything..." Ginny sniffed. "For the way Ron acted... for the way Fred and George acted... for how I acted... I believe you're not a crazed mass-murderer with a plot to take over the world. Really, I do."

Harry blinked again. Ginny turned to go. "Hey, Gin!" Harry called. Ginny turned around.

"Yea?"

"Ever played Keeper...?"

Ginny blinked. "You're asking me?"

"Why not?" Harry asked, mounting his broom. "You come from a family of great Quidditch players, you're not a git, and you believe I'm not a crazed maniac. So, do you want to play?"

"I - I'm not that good..."

"You tried out this year, didn't you?" Harry asked. "You were first understudy to your brother. And you were really good. So, have you got a broom?"

Ginny blinked. "No."

"Well, there's one in the broom shed. Grab the Comet 260, it's the best one." Harry flew back up to his other teammates.

"Did you just do what I think you did...?" Parvati said.

"If you were thinking that I just found us a new Keeper, yes," Harry said calmly.

"Harry..." Angelina said. "I don't think that's such a good - "

"It's a great idea," Katie interrupted. She smiled at Harry slightly. "By the way, have we mentioned that we don't think you're a demented assassin with a plot to take over the world?"

Harry smiled. "No - no, you forgot to mention that."

Katie smiled back sadly. A moment later, Ginny came flying up to them.

"We've got a game in two weeks," Harry said. "We don't have time to schedule try-outs. Does anyone know anyone who might be good enough to Beat for us?"

"What about the Creevey brothers?" Ginny said. "They're not bad."

"No, they're not," Harry agreed. "Angelina, could you go find them and bring them here?"

"Now?"

"Yes, now. We've got no time to lose, do we? Parvati, would you go release the Snitch and the Quaffle? Not the Bludgers yet - with no Beaters, we could be another player short before game time."

Angelina and Parvati flew away. Katie smiled at Ginny.

"Welcome to the team, Gin."

"Thanks," Ginny said breathlessly. She smiled back at Katie.

A second later the silence was broken by the Quaffle only just missing Harry's head. "Head's up!" Parvati shouted, a bit too late. Katie laughed and dived down, reappearing seconds later with the Quaffle.

It was Hogwarts history after that. Ginny was a fairly good Keeper, about the same skill level as Ro - her brother. Must not think about Weasley men on first-name basis, Harry told himself. He caught the Snitch a few times with great ease - his main focus was watching Ginny, and thinking vaguely that she was very pretty when she was Keeping.

WHOA! Bad thoughts, bad thoughts, not right, look away, Harry, look away, this is GINNY we're talking about!

Harry shook himself and began concentrating on the Snitch fully, catching it every few minutes.

At around seven, Angelina came back with Collin and Dennis Creevey. Harry watched them react over-eagerly and wondered for a split second if it had been wrong of him to do this. But once they were in the air, Harry felt a surge of relief.

His team would be ready for the game. They would.

His team.

Harry glanced at the six players zooming around the pitch. There was Katie. All-around cheerful and optimistic Katie. Angelina. Darker, more morbid, but ever the generous person Angelina. Parvati. Hard-working, friendly, and overall encouraging Parvati. Collin. Excited, nervous, and yet a wonderful Beater Collin. Dennis. Short, sweet, little Bludger-beating Dennis. Ginny. Wonderful, expert flyer, smart, funny, happy, kind, generous, outgoing, beautiful...

Well.

There was Ginny, too.

Harry felt his heart swell with pride. This was his team. His. They listened to him, they played with him, and they worked with him. They were like his second family. No, an extension to his first family.

His team.

His life.

When Harry and Parvati trudged into Professor Snape's office at eight o'clock, they were met with the sight of Hannah and Padma talking quietly and Professor Snape reading a thick, leather-bound book. Snape did not speak, only waved a hand at the empty cauldrons on the table. Harry and Parvati put downs their brooms in the corner and began to work.

"Ron just left," Hannah whispered. "He seemed - er - "

" - Thoroughly pissed," Padma said.

"Well, yes. If that's really the word you want to use."

Harry didn't speak. Instead, he rolled his eyes.

"I couldn't care less what any Weasley thinks," Harry said smoothly. Parvati raised an eyebrow.

"Except Ginny," Harry reasoned. Parvati smiled and looked down, starting her potion.

Harry picked up his Quick Quotes Quill and started to work. However, his work was constantly interrupted by unwanted thoughts of Ginny.

Wonder if she's thinking about me...?

Or, more importantly, why am I thinking about her...?

Harry shook his head violently. "I'm crazy," he whispered to himself.

"Must agree with you there."

Harry looked up immediately. Draco smirked at him.

"When did you...?"

"About ten minutes ago," Draco whispered back. "You were a bit lost in thought, so I let you be. However, you kept muttering about a certain red-head Weasel-face..."

Harry blushed. "I - I said that stuff out loud...?"

"Yes," Draco said, sounding amused. "Yes, you did."

Harry scratched his head. "I guess I should keep my mouth shut, eh?"

"Or, you could take a look at your potion and try to prevent it from overflowing. Like it is now."

Harry sighed. "Evanesco." The potion disappeared, and Harry started again.

However, Ginny kept popping up in his head.

What's wrong with me? Harry thought to himself after nearly spilling a bottle of phoenix tears while wondering what shampoo Ginny used. What happened to Laura? Why do I keep thinking about Ginny - of all people?

A voice in the back of Harry's head piped up. Don't pretend it's not obvious.

It's not.

Yes, it is.

Look, if you're saying I'm forgetting Laura and hitting on Ginny -

You see? I told you it was obvious.

You little -

It's true, whether you like it or not. You're false.

No, I'm not.

You're hitting on a Weasley.

No, I'm not.

You're a heartbreaker...

Harry froze. Wh - what?

You're breaking Hannah's heart... look at her...

Harry looked up at Hannah. She was working diligently. She tucked her hair behind her ear and looked up for a moment.

Her eyes met Harry's.

They stared at each other for a long moment. Then Hannah blushed and looked down again.

You see...?

Shut up and go away, Harry snapped.

The voice did, to Harry's relief. However, it left Harry feeling quite downhearted.

"Hannah," he hissed to the girl across the table. Hannah looked up.

"What?"

"Can we... talk? Later?"

Hannah blinked. "Uh..."

"Please?"

"Um. Sure."

Hannah looked back down quickly, her ears turning red. Harry shook his head.

What are you going to say?

The voice was back. Harry scowled as he tested his antidote with the potion.

I don't know. It doesn't matter.

Doesn't it...?

Shut up.

What are you going to tell her? That you're sorry, but you're in love with Ginny?

WHAT? I'm not in LOVE with Ginny!

Are you sure about that...?

Harry paused. Don't you have someone else to bother?

Nope. I live in your head.

That's... creepy.

Yes. Your head's a very scary place.

Harry snorted and caused the table to look at him.

"What?" Parvati asked.

"N-nothing..."

Smooth, Potter. Real smooth.

Why thank you, Mr. Guy-Who-Lives-in-my-Head. I'm sure you're much better, considering you're such a social person.

Harry ignored the little voice that kept nagging him for a long time. He kept working. He squeezed five drops of his antidote into the Draught of Non Cras vial, and waited. He glanced at Hannah, who was doing the same thing. They caught each other's eye for a split second and then looked back down at their vials quickly.

They both gasped simultaneously and picked up their vials, studying them carefully. Draco, Padma, and Parvati watched them carefully. Snape looked over to them.

"Problem, Potter? Abbott?"

"Professor," Harry breathed. "I think I've - "

" - found part of the antidote!" Hannah said, gaping at her vial.

Snape stood up quickly and, in no time at all, was studying their potions.

"Indeed!" he said, looking at their parchment. "It appears that you both used six milliliters of phoenix tears, seven seconds stirring counterclockwise, and then four milligrams of powdered Mandrake leaf. Odd."

Harry gulped. It was odd. Very odd.

Was it a coincidence?

Is there such a thing as coincidence...?

"And thus our search proves fruitful!" Snape said. "There is an antidote. I congratulate you. I must say, I'm deeply impressed. Years of futile search by Potions masters across the globe - "

"But Professor," Draco said softly, "they wouldn't be able to figure it out, would they?"

There was silence. Everyone glanced at Draco, who looked unfazed. In fact, he was observing Harry's cauldron with interest. "Mandrake wasn't discovered as a restorative until 1836. Scholars gave up the search in 1797, didn't they, Professor?"

Snape was silent for a moment. "You are, indeed, correct, Mr. Malfoy," he said in a thoughtful voice. "Indeed..."

Snape went into a kind of trance for a moment. Harry felt his throat close, thinking about the conversation - if you wanted to call it that - that he and Snape had had this morning.

"I ask you to leave for tonight," Snape muttered, grabbing Harry and Hannah's parchment. "I have tests to run. If you check Professor Dumbledore's office, you may see that he and Professor Figg have returned. I'm sure they will have questions for you..."

The five of them picked up their things and left silently. Harry purposely walked very slowly, keeping a pace with Hannah.

When the others were a safe distance ahead, Harry muttered something to Hannah out of the corner of his mouth.

"Can we talk now? We'll see Dumbledore and Arabella tomorrow."

Hannah bit the inside of her lip and nodded. Harry pulled Hannah into the empty Transfiguration classroom and they both stared at each other.

"What'd you want to talk about, Harry?" Hannah asked carefully, as though waiting for a bomb to explode.

Harry sighed. "I - um - I'm sorry I was such a git the other day."

Hannah's expression changed to relief. "Oh. G - good."

There was a long moment of silence. Harry cleared his throat. Hannah shifted uncomfortably.

"Harry - why?"

Harry blinked. "Why what?"

"Why were you being such an absolute, downright git to everyone - not just me, but Ron, too?"

"Ron was a git to me first," Harry snapped. Then he visibly calmed. "I - uh - well, I'm not exactly sure. That's kind of why it was so stupid. I knew why yesterday, but I expect it was just the pumpkin juice that morning. Bad pumpkin juice really gets to your head, you know. And I realize that's a pretty lame excuse, but, well, I was feeling pretty lame. I'm just really sorry."

Hannah nodded. There was another long pause. "Hannah... I can't make it to Hogsmeade tomorrow."

"Oh!" Hannah said, covering her mouth with her hand. "I... I'd forgotten about that."

"M-me too. Until a few hours ago."

"Oh. That's all right then."

"It's just that - well, I kind of wanted to - you know - help out Snape, see if we could find more of that antidote. It really means a lot to me."

"Of course," Hannah said. "I understand. I'll probably spend a few hours there tomorrow myself."

There was yet another long pause. It seemed neither of them really knew what to say. "W-well, if that's all..." Hannah said, turning.

Harry reached out and grabbed her shoulder.

Hannah stiffened. She turned slowly and looked into Harry's eyes.

"What?"

Harry felt stupid. He wasn't sure why he'd reached out to Hannah. And he wasn't sure what he was going to say, either. But the little voice in the back of his head piped up again, answering his question.

You know what you want to tell her. You know...

Harry flinched. He brought his hand down from Hannah's shoulder. "Hannah... I know."

Hannah blinked. "I - I beg your pardon?"

"I think you know what I mean."

It was funny, Harry thought, how Hannah's mouth could form such a perfect o of surprise. It was funny, also, how she could turn such a brilliant red when embarrassed.

"O - oh. Really."

Harry knew that it wasn't meant to be a question, but he answered anyway. "Y-yeah."

Hannah bit her lip. "I - I don't really know what to say."

"I really don't care," Harry said quickly. "It doesn't - you know - bother me or anything."

Well, that was a dumb thing to say, the little voice stated. Make her feel worse, why don't you?

Harry groaned inwardly. Hannah shifted her feet. "I - I mean..." Harry felt like smacking himself. "It's just - I don't - like you. In that way."

Hannah smiled gently. It was a sad smile. Harry didn't like it very much. It made him feel guilty. "It's not your fault," she said softly. "Not your fault that I..." she trailed off. Harry nodded.

"I just - wanted to tell you."

"Okay."

Hannah turned to go. Her ears were a bright red. Harry felt his heart plummet.

"Hannah..."

Hannah paused and turned. "What is it?"

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"I'm still sorry."

Hannah gave him another one of those smiles. Her next words were so quiet that Harry almost didn't catch them.

"I know."

Hannah left then, leaving Harry feeling confused, depressed, and most of all, guilty.

Outside the door, Arabella, donned in an Invisibility Cloak, shook her head disappointedly.

"Harry," she whispered to herself, "what are you getting yourself into?"

The next week and a half went by rather drearily. Harry and Hannah pretty much avoided each other - well, actually, Harry avoided basically everyone except Draco, Padma, and the Gryffindor Quidditch team. The rest of the school helped out by steering clear of Harry at all costs. Lavender Brown actually dropped Divination so that she wouldn't have to be near Harry.

Harry received no owls from his parents, and only a rather bland one from Sirius, which consisted of rather dry facts about the weather. His worry only increased from the lack of details from Sirius.

Quidditch practices were long and a bit more exciting now that everyone on the team was on a first-name basis. The match against Hufflepuff hanging only a few weeks - no, wait, a few days ahead, Quidditch practices seemed to breed and reproduce, popping up just about as often as Harry could book the Quidditch pitch. One particularly memorable practice took place at three in the morning, and subsequently, three members of the team fell of their brooms. Ginny almost had her ribcage shattered to pieces when Dennis Creevey's Bludger went off course and hit her. Fortunately, she survived with nothing more than a case of the jitters.

Harry actually found that his grades were improving in most classes. The most noticeable change was in Potions. Harry's potions started to actually come out the right color, and he scraped together a few perfect scores, miraculously. He could have sworn that he saw Snape smile while looking at his work.

Could have been a mirage.

Must have been a mirage.

Right...?

Hermione was getting more and more grumpy by the day. She kept to herself mostly, writing something - or everything, it seemed - in a small, leather-bound book, snapping at those who interrupted her. She raised her hand in class less and less. When she was called on, she gave an inappropriate or irrelevant answer. It was obvious her grades were declining. She accepted no offers from teachers for extra tutoring. She stumbled and fell as she tried to make her way through the corridors from memory, yelling at those who tried to help her, until finally no one offered.

It seemed, just as they had gotten their Hermione back, that they had lost her again.

But this time she took Draco's heart along with her.

It would take someone who knew Draco down to the kind of socks he wore on Tuesdays to notice the differences. Harry, however, who knew that Draco always wore gray socks on Tuesdays, did notice. Draco ate less and less by the day. He grew paler and paler - though it was hard to tell, since his complexion was so white to begin with. He spent more and more time in Snape's office - so much that he started walking in even when Snape wasn't there and working. This just made the whole thing a lot weirder.

As Hermione's condition slowly worsened, the work on the antidote became more frantic. Even with the added help of Arabella and Dumbledore, they made no more discoveries. Snape began to break up a little more every day - once he even made conversation with Harry and Draco while they were working.

Meanwhile, the little voice in Harry's head made more and more frequent appearances. As a matter of fact, Harry named him Bill, and addressed him so periodically. Bill was an animal-lover, enjoyed reading Shakespeare by candlelight, and opposed the dredging. (A/N: This is a joke you wouldn't really get if you're not familiar with the environmental issues of the Hudson River, so see bottom A/N for details.)

The situation with Harry and Ginny grew worse and worse. Harry started hanging out with Ginny more and more, as she wasn't speaking to most of her family. As a matter of fact, the whole Gryffindor Quidditch team rather kept to itself, huddling together at the Gryffindor table at mealtimes, discussing strategies, new plays, and sometimes other, non-Quidditch things, like homework and whatever chic outfit Gina Coeli had worn beneath her robes that day (Harry, Colin, and Dennis mainly stuck to Quidditch).

And watching all this, like an audience watches a play, was Millicent Bulstrode. Only for her, it was like watching the play from the second act. She wasn't exactly sure what was going on, but she was determined to find out.