The Knights Of Walpurgis

Chapter Twenty-Five: Harry's Revenge

(Author's Note: Because no matter how bad things get, they can always get a little bit worse...)

The common room was silent. Copies of that day's Prophet were scattered around. Everyone had seen the front page, and the article describing how newly inducted Death Eaters had led a string of terror raids on Muggle households throughout the country. Percy had been the only one identified, losing his mask in a massive fight in which he and his two colleagues had defeated four Aurors after destroying a Muggle house after discovering that it was empty.

Dumbledore was still absent. Harry wished more than anything that the headmaster would arrive and say something, anything, that would make it better.

Professor McGonagall had offered to let Ron and Ginny off classes. Neither had agreed. Ron had been silent all day -- even ignoring the insufferable Draco Malfoy's attempts to make fun of him when the two crossed paths at lunchtime.

Harry was furious at Malfoy, and wanted nothing more than to hex him into oblivion. Malfoy, seemingly sensing this, had made it a point not to go anywhere that day without a sizable backup. Harry noticed that there were more people gathered around him now. While a number of the Slytherins were hanging around with him, there were also Ravenclaws and a few Hufflepuffs, all of whom seemed to be drawn to Malfoy as the ascendant power in the school.

Harry had studied Malfoy's hand over dinner. The ring that all the new Death Eaters had worn was still present on his finger. Neither Percy nor his two companions in the photo had been wearing a ring, and so Harry had to assume that for some reason Malfoy hadn't been made into a full Death Eater yet.

"I wonder why?" Harry asked. Hermione, sitting opposite him in the library, shrugged.

It was several days since the Prophet had run its article. Since then, Hermione had been researching the story behind Walpurgis Night.

"It's the one night of the year when witches and wizards could be themselves," she said. "It used to be the time for celebrating wizardry, especially when we still lived among Muggles. There was even a charity group - The Knights of Walpurgis. It was set up by a group of pure-blood families, and the Knights would spend the day providing magical assistance in building projects like stone circles and the old castles. Around the time of the final battle where the Hogwarts founders all fought, the tradition faded. That's when the Muggle and wizarding societies began to drift apart. Wizards became feared for what they could do after that, probably because the Knights of Walpurgis were out trying to kill people, rather than help them. Nowadays Walpurgis Night is when people reinforce the wards around their homes, and that sort of thing. It's not a feast day anymore, but it's a day to remember that you're a wizard, and what that means."

"Or to tell everyone that you're a pureblood," Harry muttered, scowling at the book in front of him. Ron and Ginny were too preoccupied with Percy's betrayal to help with his research, and Neville was spending time with Hannah. Luna was... elsewhere. Harry realised that he hadn't spoken to Luna for some time now, and had barely seen her, except for at the Quidditch match. Whatever her reason for not being around, he wished that she'd get over it and start helping out again. They barely seemed to have made a dent in the books available, and apart from a few new spells that would be quite useful in a duel, they hadn't found anything that Harry thought would be of any real use if he were to fight Voldemort again.

Hermione gave Harry a small smile, and shut The History of European Witchcraft and Wizardry. He gave her a tight smile in reply, and grimaced as she fetched yet another hefty looking book, its metallic cover pitted with age. She set it on the table and opened it with an audible grinding sound that set Harry's teeth on edge.

His only comfort at the moment was that his thoughts seemed to be calming down. Marchbanks had let him take some time off from their sessions in the wake of Percy's exposure as a Death Eater, and without the need to dredge up bad memories beyond those associated with Percy, he felt a lot better than he had done for a while.

Hermione wasn't surprised when he mentioned this.

"Harry, the magic that you're trying to learn with Madam Marchbanks is almost like facing a Dementor -- all your worst fears, your memories and your nightmares played back to you. I would think that it would unsettle anyone. Maybe once you start off again, you can try and work on positive thoughts."

Harry nodded thoughtfully, before turning back to Duelling Spells of the Fifteenth Century.

*

"You'd bloody better be sorry!"

Harry picked up speed as he ran down the corridor. He recognised the voice, and the meaty thud that accompanied it sounded like someone had just hit something. He only hoped that he wasn't too late.

Rounding the corner, he reached out and grabbed Ron's hand just as he pulled it back, ready to punch Theodore Nott. The scrawny Slytherin boy was pressed against the wall, Ron's arm across his throat, choking painfully.

"Ron! Get off him!" Harry grunted, struggling to keep Ron from throwing his punch.

"He's a Death Eater," Ron snarled, nearly yanking his arm free. Nott struggled feebly against Ron's iron grip.

"Not," Nott gasped.

"Ron!"

"He's wearing the bloody ring," Ron yelled. Harry was grateful that there didn't seem to be anyone around yet -- the three of them were often early for HA meetings, but surely someone else would arrive soon. He especially didn't want Hermione to see Ron like this. He could barely believe it was Ron himself. His friend was wild-eyed and furious. The silent, gaunt Ron who had sleepwalked through lessons for the last two weeks was gone, replaced by this wild, angry creature who was doing his best to hurt Nott, and who barely seemed to notice Harry except as a source of annoyance.

"Sod off, Harry," he screamed, bringing his arm up sharply and driving his elbow into Harry's jaw. Harry staggered back, stunned, his eyes widening as he realised that Theodore had his wand drawn and pointed at Ron's stomach.

"Drop him, Ron," he yelled, but it was too late.

"St'pefy," Nott managed, around Ron's arm. There was a flash, and Ron toppled backward to the ground. Nott turned to Harry, only to find himself staring down the length of Harry's wand. The two froze for a second, and then Theodore threw his wand onto Ron's prone form.

"I'm not a Death Eater," he said. "At least," he paused, and looked quickly around. "Not yet. Maybe next time."

"What do you mean, Nott?" Harry said, aware that this needed to be cleared up quickly, before anyone else arrived.

"I haven't been chosen yet," Nott said. "They don't seem to think I'm ready. I hear you've got some connection with the Dark Lord, Potter. Well, you might know that he took a whole gang of initiates through the Becoming a few weeks back."

Harry nodded.

"Good. Blaise should have been one of them, but he ran instead. I was called, but told that I would just watch while the others Became. I didn't even get to do that -- I was put on sentry duty. But I heard some things. Heard his brother getting made, for one thing."

Harry's temper flared, and he wondered why he'd pulled Ron off the Slytherin boy.

"Why didn't you say anything?" he managed to ask, before hexing the unarmed Nott.

"Because I didn't know!" Theodore said. "He never mentions this Percy bloke. I didn't know that he was his brother -- why would I? I never met him while he was here, I just stuck to my side. Had to keep up appearances, didn't I? I never made the connection between the bloke getting turned and Ron. I didn't hear that much, anyway, just Weasley giving his name. The Dark Lord was bloody delighted," he added, rubbing his throat gingerly.

Harry nodded. He remembered the pulse of twisted pleasure through his, strongest immediately after he'd awoken. On seeing Percy identified as a Death Eater, he had remembered the rust-haired young man who'd been second in line to have the Dark Mark burned into his skin. He hadn't even considered that it might have been Percy at the time, but now that he knew, he wondered how he hadn't identified him before.

"And you told Ron?"

"Yeah. I told him that I was sorry I hadn't said anything earlier. I didn't realise that, well... If I turned around and said to my family that I wasn't going to be a Death Eater, they'd probably kill me, easy as you like. They wouldn't care. I thought that Ron might be the same."

Harry thought that he understood.

"No, he's not," he said. "Ron and Percy... It's difficult. They don't get on, hardly at all, but they always used to stand up for each other, when the crunch came. Ron feels like, well, I can't even begin to describe it." Harry tried to think of the words to describe how Ginny and Ron had been feeling over the two weeks, but couldn't find them. It was almost as though Lupin or Hermione had turned out to be a traitor.

"Are you coming in?" Harry said, gesturing to the door of the Room of Requirement.

"No," Nott said, shaking his head. "I've been trying to keep a low profile, especially without Blaise around. Malfoy will notice if I'm gone too long -- he's pretty much head of the house now, and everyone knows who his connections are."

Harry nodded.

"I could only get away tonight because he's so cheerful about something. Won't say what, though. I'll probably not be risking it again. I just had to speak to Ron."

Harry nodded. Then a thought occurred to him.

"Nott?"

"Yes?"

"You said that Blaise ran away." Harry realised that he hadn't seen him at Hogwarts since that night. With everything else going on, he hadn't given it much thought.

Not nodded. "Yeah, he did."

"What about you?"

"I didn't have to choose," Nott said.

"And if you do?"

Nott gave him a look that sent a chill down his spine.

"I don't know."

*

Harry left Ron propped up in one corner of the Room of Requirement and excused him with an offhand comment about an overdone stunning hex in a practise duel between the two of them. It was almost the truth, after all, although Hermione gave him a dubious look.

After the meeting, Ron awakened slowly, but was quick to outline a plan to have Nott eaten by Thestrals. Harry managed to convince him to let the Slytherin boy remain free. What Voldemort offered potential Death Eaters was a life of murder and torture, a life where they would always have to be on the watch out for betrayal from those eager to move up in the ranks. It wasn't something that Theodore, given an alternative, could choose, Harry assured him.

It was up to them to offer the alternative.

"We offered an alternative!" Ron snapped, still reeling somewhat from the after effects of the Stunning Spell. "He had a family, and if he was a git, who cared? We still loved him, we'd have taken him back in an instant. But he joined up with them!"

Harry remained silent. As good a friend as he was to Ron, he didn't have a clue what to say to him.

"Why would anyone choose that, Harry?" Ron asked, subsiding. "Why?"

Harry didn't have any answers to give his friend. Percy's betrayal had stabbed a knife into the hearts of Ron and Ginny, and left them feeling, Harry thought, worse than he had ever felt. He wondered whether he would be able to forgive Percy if he ever turned back to the good side, but had trouble imagining it. He found himself imagining making Percy pay for the misery and heartache that he'd caused his family.

The idea didn't make him feel much better about himself, although he couldn't deny that it was strangely appealing.

*

"Potter, you're only just now managing the most basic of hexes with negative thoughts," Marchbanks said. "Can you really think you can manage positive hexes?"

Harry grimaced.

"I have to try," he said, loudly. "I can't think straight with all these negative thoughts in my head. It's like fighting a Dementor."

Marchbanks leaned on her cane, and raised one eyebrow quizzically. "That bad, Potter? What about your Occlumency? Dumbledore said that you had learned to control your thoughts."

"I can," Harry said. "I can shut everything off, and that works okay. But now I can't do that."

Marchbanks eyed him carefully. "Shut everything off, you say?" She shuffled closer, looking him up and down. "Doesn't sound healthy to me, Potter. Occlumency was never about shutting yourself off -- not the way that I understood it. You control your mind -- not shut it down."

Harry didn't understand what she meant, but didn't say anything. He was able to block Dumbledore's attacks -- and Voldemort's too, he knew. It was Marchbanks' lessons that were the problem. Her insistence on focusing on negative memories had unsettled him, and left him feeling as though he were mere feet away from a Dementor for the last several weeks. Now she thought that she knew about Occlumency?

Harry decided that it was best to ignore anything that she had to say on the subject.

*

It had been a miserable few weeks. Ron and Ginny were only just starting to show signs of recovery from the shock of Percy's unmasking. The whispers in the corridor whenever one of them ventured out of Gryffindor Tower had been shockingly loud, and it had fallen to Hermione and Neville to restrain Ron and Harry from attacking anyone outright. Harry had to be held back by both of them when he overheard two girls who he recognised as friends of Cho's talking not-at-all subtly about Percy and his relationship with former Ravenclaw Penelope Clearwater.

When they weren't talking about Percy, they were gossiping about something else. There was endless speculation, it seemed, about Susan and Ernie, and the nature of their relationship. Justin and Cho, Harry learned, had been seen together on more than one occasion. Even Hannah and Nevile, who Harry knew to be about as sweet and innocent a couple as existed at Hogwarts, seemed to be at the heart of some sort of scandal that Harry couldn't make head or tail of.

Was this stuff always being talked about? Harry wondered. How come I never noticed it before? I know that people talked about me a lot -- am I not newsworthy enough now? They've got the taste for gossip, so anyone will do? Or has it always been like this, and I never cared before?

Harry still seemed to be the topic of some of the gossip doing the rounds. Harry noticed Pansy giving him a shifty glance one night at dinner, before she walked over to the Ravenclaw table and spoke urgently to Marietta Edgecombe. Marietta, who had been the victim of Hermione's oath-breaker curse the year before, had been one of the most enthusiastic gossipers, or so Ginny had reported, but Harry didn't know whether to believe that or not. After all, hadn't it come through the same grapevine that had reported only recently that Hannah and Cho were an item, behind their boyfriends' backs?

Still, Marietta's eyes lit up at Pansy's words, and the Slytherin girl returned to her seat with a smug look on her face. As Marietta leaned across to speak to her friends, so Pansy leaned across to speak to Draco. Draco laughed, and pulled a roll of parchment from his pocket. He crossed something out, and Harry guessed that Malfoy had been the source of the new piece of gossip that was already spreading outwards from Marietta to the rest of the school.

Harry sighed. He'd hoped that losing so many of his followers, and then losing the Quidditch Cup to Ravenclaw, would have been enough to convince Malfoy to give up his vendetta against himself. He'd hoped that the scene with Cho and Ernie outside the Great Hall after Valentine's Day had been enough to convince people that Malfoy's word was worthless, but he apparently still had his willing lieutenants.

And there'll always be people willing to believe a rumour, no matter how absurd.

It was as though a light bulb had gone off in Harry's head. Suddenly, he remembered the only piece of advice that Marchbanks had given him, other than 'Duck this,' or 'Block that.'

"Don't listen to anything your opponent says," she had said. "Someone you are fighting cannot be trusted, you see, and they will use their words like weapons, seeking to disarm you verbally if they cannot do so physically. Be wary, then, and do not let mere words affect you. Of course, if you can disarm your opponent, even use their weapon against them, you have them helpless, as in any field of armed combat."

It occurred to Harry that he had disarmed Malfoy when he had cut Cho and Ernie away from him, harming his credibility and turning two of his supporters away from him. But Malfoy had carried on, and now seemed to be at the top of the tree from which all the Hogwarts gossip was picked. Harry had to admit that if Malfoy was seeking to irritate Harry, he had achieved it.

I wonder if Malfoy can take what he's been dishing out?

"Hey, Ginny?" Harry said, leaning across the table. One or two others looked up. He almost smiled. He had pitched his voice to sound as though he were trying to be secretive, when really he wanted to be heard by as many people as possible.

"Yes?" Ginny looked up, and Harry faltered. She looked pale and drawn, and he knew that she hadn't been sleeping well recently. He rather hoped that what he was about to do would put some colour back in her cheeks.

"Have you heard the latest?" he asked. She looked as though she weren't sure how to respond, and he didn't blame her. He was hardly one to gossip, and she wasn't exactly in the mood to discuss the latest rumours about Neville's love life.

"What?" she replied, guardedly.

"It's about Draco," he said, grinning widely. "He's..." he said, tailing off as he tried to think of something plausible about Malfoy. "He's thinking about putting in a request for a change in the Slytherin house colours. He wants to go for maroon -- apparently he really likes the colour, ever since he saw Ron in that jumper of his. Of course, he doesn't want to admit it..."

For a second, Ginny smiled, and glanced both ways. "I did hear that, actually," she said, distinctly. "Apparently, he needs cheering up, and he thought it'd be a good way to do it. You see, his application was turned down by the Death Eaters."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, apparently they have standards now that Percy's running things."

There was a moment of silence as everyone around them stopped pretending not to be listening. Then Ginny smiled again, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

"I heard," Seamus said, loudly enough for people on the next table to hear. "That his mam still picks his clothes for him. Even his pyjamas."

Harry almost laughed. He hadn't even had to give much of a push to set things rolling.

"He bought his way onto their Quidditch team," Natalie McDonald said, looking over her shoulder at him. "Of course, anyone who's seen him play knows that."

Harry grinned. He hadn't even thought about telling the truth -- for that's what everyone knew it to be.

By the time that he and Ginny had left the Great Hall a few minutes later, there were half a dozen rumours or more floating around the Gryffindor table, and Harry was sure that they'd reach the other houses in no time. He had enjoyed listening as some of the rumours combined -- his particular favourite had been that Narcissa Malfoy, Draco's mother, was going to try and buy him a position with the Death Eaters.

As an added bonus, Ginny was looking a lot more like her normal, cheerful self, which made Harry even better.

"It's just a shame that Ron and Hermione weren't there," she said, as they made their way up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower. "Can you imagine some of the stuff that Ron would have come up with?"

They traded more and more outrageous allegations and slanders about Malfoy until they reached the portrait hole.

"Actually, where are Ron and Hermione?" Harry asked, as they clambered through the hole and into the common room. "Did he miss dinner?"

"Er..." Ginny hesitated, sitting on the sofa by the fire and curling herself up, hugging a large cushion to her stomach. Harry sat next to her. "Well... It's a bit silly," she said.

"What is?"

"Well... I don't know why Hermione felt that she had to tell me," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. "She said that if Ron didn't come out of his funk by the end of lessons today, then she was going to drag him down to Greenhouse Nine."

Harry stared at her blankly.

"Oh my," Ginny said, stifling a giggle with one hand while she held the cushion with the other. She took her hand away from her mouth, revealing a wide, mischievous grin as she reached out to Harry and took one of his hands. She tried to school her features into a serious expression, but her glimmering eyes betrayed her continued amusement.

"Harry," she said. "Even you..."

Realisation dawned.

"It's another snogging spot, isn't it?"

Ginny nodded, not even bothering to stifle her laughter as Harry ruefully shook his head. She squeezed his hand.

"We'll find you someone to teach you all these things, don't worry," she said.

He grinned. "Isn't that your job?"

The Fat Lady's portrait swung open before Ginny could reply, and Harry noticed her snatching her hand away from his. He scowled as he turned to see Ron and Hermione coming through the hole and into the common room. Ron looked considerably more cheerful than he had done for the last few weeks, and Hermione had the bright, accomplished look to her face that she so often did when she'd just solved a particularly difficult problem.

Harry turned back to Ginny. This time they both began to laugh.

*

Hagrid, well aware that exams were approaching and that the students weren't keen on learning anything new on top of what they were already revising, didn't have much for them to do in Care of Magical Creatures that week. Ron, Harry and Hermione instead spent the lesson discussing the latest rumours about Malfoy, who seemed to have become by far the most popular target for rumours almost as soon as they started to spread. Neville's love life lay forgotten -- "Thankfully," he said. "Hannah hasn't been sleeping well. I don't think she likes being the subject of all this gossip any more than you do, Harry." -- while Susan and Ernie were being left in peace to try and work out whether they were going to go out or not.

"Not," Hermione said, authoritatively. "At least, I'd be very surprised if they did. I don't think that Susan feels that Ernie has entirely made up for all the things that he did to the two of you. In fact," she said, with a glance in Harry's direction. "I'd almost say that she wouldn't mind giving you two another try."

Harry was shaking his head before Hermione finished speaking.

"It wouldn't work," he said. "We're too different. And there's just too much potential there for us to get caught up in the rumours again. If she didn't like it the first time, she won't like it any better the second time."

"Right," Ron said. He had been a lot more cheerful since his visit to Greenhouse Nine. "You need someone... better next time."

Hermione elbowed him in the ribs. Harry pretended not to notice.

The lesson ended after Hagrid had taken a slew of questions about centaurs, erumpents, clabberts, unicorns, bowtruckles and thestrals. Ron had had to restrain Hermione from asking too many questions, and for a moment she had looked quite put out with him.

"Hermione, other people don't know the answers to the questions they're asking," he said, reasonably. "You do. You're just asking to check that you have it right."

Hermione didn't say anything, but Harry rather thought that Ron was right. Hermione always went into study overdrive -- even more so than normal -- when exams were near, and she had already set the three of them stringent revision timetables, focusing their efforts where they were weakest. Harry had been ordered to spend no more than half an hour a week on Defence Against the Dark Arts, and at least five hours a week on Potions, if not more. Harry had had to bargain her down from a minimum of eight hours of Potions work a week. Bill hadn't been much help.

"Nah, she's right," he'd said, at the end of their latest lesson. "You know more than I do, I reckon. Dumbledore'll have you teaching next year. You could pass your NEWT easy. If Marchbanks is working you like I reckon she is, you're probably doing alright on Transfiguration and Charms, as well."

In fact, Harry had been doing much better than normal in these subjects, until Marchbanks' lessons on negative emotions. Since then, his work had suffered. Hermione had noticed, and set him extra work in these subjects. It was another reason for Harry to feel cross with Marchbanks, who didn't seem to notice.

"Excellent, Potter," she yelled, when Harry managed to transfigure her cane into a large boa constrictor without words. Harry wanted to tell her that he had been thinking about how much he wanted to be rid of her, but couldn't do it. He knew, inside, that she was doing her best to help, and he even felt a little guilty that he had taken a dislike to her. He suspected that if his head cleared, even a little, he'd appreciate her efforts a lot more. As it was, he always left her training sessions feeling much worse than when he'd went in. Only spending time with Ginny, who'd recovered much of her normal cheeriness at the sight of Draco flinching in the corridors whenever he heard someone say his name, seemed to cheer him up. He would usually have spent time with Ron and Hermione, as well, but they seemed to be spending even more time revising than him. Considering that she had OWLs to study for, it was remarkable how often Ginny appeared whenever he needed to talk to someone to help take his mind off how gummed up his mind felt.

Harry smiled as he remembered how Ginny had brought Sian Peters into their conversation the night before. The three of them had talked about their families. Harry had shared a little about Sirius, Remus and Tonks, Ginny had talked about life with Percy and her other brothers, while Sian had talked about her parents. Happily, it seemed that the Aurors had broken up the attack on her family without too much damage being caused. The mediwizards at St. Mungo's seemed to think that Mr. and Mrs. Peters would be able to return home over the summer, although they were still suffering somewhat from the effects of the Cruciatus Curses that had been applied to them.

Harry felt vindicated by the news, as though it had been proof that he, himself, was making progress, in some indefinable way.

"How's things, Hagrid?" Ron asked, as the class began to make their way indoors for lunch.

"Yeah, not bad," Hagrid said, smiling. "Grawpy's lady-friend liked her cake."

"That's good," Hermione said, as Ron and Harry exchanged amused looks. "So, are her and Grawp, er..."

"Oh, well, it's difficult ter say," Hagrid said. "Don't know much about giant mating rituals, what with being bought up by my dad an' all. They seem to be getting on right well, though. Grawpy's spending time with the other giants, which I reckon is a good thing, bein' with his own people and all. They're a good lot, these-"

Hagrid was interrupted by a terrific tearing sound from within the Forest. The four of them turned in time to see a huge tree soaring up from within the Forest and hanging for a moment in mid-air, before dropping back down with a huge crash that shook the ground beneath their feet.

"'Course, er, they're still settlin' in," Hagrid said. "Got teh get comfy in their new place, don' they? They seem to be getting' on alright, though. Making a bit more noise an' that. Good job we're a way away from the school, I 'spose, else there'd be a bit more panic. Anyway, you three'd best hurry back inside now. They get a bit excited when they see you lot out here in easy reach."

"Easy reach?" Ron said, going a bit pale. "What do you mean? I thought there were wards?"

"Well... There are, o' course," Hagrid said. "But, er, better safe than sorry, right?"

"I thought that you said that the giants were okay!"

"I think they are," Hagrid said hurriedly. "But, well, they're giants," he said. He raised a hand to forestall the comment that Hermione was about to make. "They're wild. I'm not sayin' that they couldn't learn to be civilised, I'm saying that they haven't done yet. Like I said -- there's some things about giants that I don't really know, nor Dumbledore neither."

"But it's safe, right?" Harry asked. "I mean, the wards will hold them if they decide to leave."

"Well, no," Hagrid said. "I mean, you helped set'em, didn't yeh? The wards'll let anything pass, but they'll make a heck of a lot o' noise if that thing is anything bigger than a centaur. Even one o' Aragog's kids'd set it off."

Hermione looked as though this had been perfectly obvious as she led the way back to the castle. Harry looked back over his shoulder at Hagrid, who was watching them walk back up to the school. It wasn't until they'd passed through the doors that Hagrid went back into his hut.

This sort of concern from Hagrid, who Harry had always thought of as completely fearless, was quite disconcerting. He suddenly felt a lot less comfortable about having the giants in the forest.

*

For the next few days, Harry tried to find seats in his classes next to windows that overlooked the Forbidden Forest. Snape sneered at him in Potions, questioning whether he was so worried about the fumes from his Draft of Living Death that he wanted to be sure of an adequate air supply. McGonagall came within inches of Banishing him to a seat when he was still standing, as though he'd lost a game of Musical Chairs, when she began to teach. Professor Flitwick, however, seemed to understand what Harry was up to and conjured him a new desk by a window that he could share with Neville.

As the week passed, however, it seemed that Harry's worries were unfounded. There was no klaxon alert from the Forbidden Forest, no sign of Hagrid battling the giants within, no roar from Grawp.

Sitting down to breakfast on Saturday morning, Harry almost felt convinced that he'd been overreacting. He was almost able to convince himself that the dull ache centred on his scar that had greeted him on awakening was just a sign that Voldemort was quite pleased about his new Death Eater's progress. Then he picked up that morning's Prophet and his jaw dropped.

Staring out from the front page were Dolores Umbridge, Cornelius Fudge and Lucius Malfoy, all three of them standing on the front steps of the Ministry. Fudge and Malfoy were shaking hands in a staged, but clearly comfortable manner.

Fudge challenges!

Former Minister to contest re-election race with Diggory

Lucius Malfoy cleared of all Death Eater charges, will fund Fudge's campaign, stand for Deputy Minister.

Harry felt his head begin to spin.

*

Harry couldn't get his head around the idea, even later that day when Hermione had picked the idea down to its barest details, grimly dissecting the article. The Wizengamot had retried Lucius Malfoy on the discovery of new evidence, the exact details of which hadn't been revealed. By a narrow margin, he'd been found not guilty, and released from Azkaban. In the same session, and again by the very narrowest of margins, it had been decided that the results of the previous summer's Ministerial elections would be voided, and that a new election would be held to determine who the Minister would be. Fudge and Mr. Diggory had immediately declared their candidacies. Fudge had then gone on record to say that the events in the Ministry of Magic the previous summer had left him shaken and confused, and that he had felt it best to stand down. He was not happy with his successor, though, and was convinced that it was best for him to regain his former position.

Harry had thrown some powerful hexes that evening in his session with Marchbanks, the idea of a free again Lucius Malfoy, or a Ministry with Fudge back in control, more than amply negative to fuel a barrage of curses and hexes.

He trudged wearily back towards Gryffindor Tower, feeling as though everything were pressing down on him. Diggory, he was sure, would lose. There was no question. He couldn't understand why Fudge was working with Malfoy, but that, as Hermione had declared, was rather beside the point. He was, and because of that, a Fudge victory would all but hand the Ministry to Lucius Malfoy, and Voldemort.

"So, what do you think, Potter?"

Draco Malfoy stepped from the shadows, smirking widely. He had a copy of the Prophet in one hand.

"I don't think it's my father's best side, personally. I told him to show off his right side, but that egotist Fudge demanded he stand there."

Harry pushed past him.

"Your father doesn't have a right side, Malfoy," he said, wishing that he were outside Gryffindor Tower. He could just climb through the portrait hole, go upstairs to bed and maybe when he woke up it would all be a dream.

"Funny, Potter. I suppose you thought that you were hilarious, spreading the rumours about me."

"Fighting fire with fire, Malfoy," Harry replied, walking away. He wasn't in the mood to trade barbs with Malfoy. His head ached, and his scar was throbbing dully.

"A Muggle saying, Potter. But as it happens, I know the comeback. It's a sure way to get burned!"

Something hot and red flashed past Harry's face, and he paused in surprise. Malfoy had never dared to attack him magically before, at least not since his only attempt had resulted in him being transfigured into a ferret.

He turned, and saw that Malfoy was stood in a duelling stance, side on to Harry, wand arm out straight, his other arm curled over his head. It was almost the same stance that Snape had used in his short-duel with Harry weeks before, but his wand was closer to Harry. It gave him slightly less time to react to whatever spells Malfoy might use.

"Do you really want to do this, Malfoy?" Harry said, sighing.

"Of course I do, Potter," Malfoy said. "My father, in a few short weeks, will be named Deputy Minister of Magic. And for once, I have you alone."

"So, your dad's going to be second best?" Harry asked. He opened his robes and casually drew his wand, not bothering to watch Draco. "I suppose that's the best that a Malfoy could ever hope for, isn't it?"

"Not any more."

Malfoy swung his wand arm, and with a hissed incantation threw a powerful Shredding Hex at Harry. The blue spell rebounded off a swiftly cast shield that resounded with a deep bass note, which echoed along the empty corridor.

"Malfoy, I'm giving you the chance to walk away," Harry said. "I don't want to fight you."

"Scared, Potter?" Malfoy's next spell bounced off Harry's shield again, but the golden light bounced off the ceiling as well, before cracking down into the ground where Harry had been standing and shattering one of the flagstones. Harry had dived out of the way just in time. He stood up and glared at Malfoy.

"You wish," he spat, bringing his own wand up.

He tried to control it, but his head was aching, and his scar was throbbing, and the spell leapt from his wand almost of its own accord. Wordlessly, soundlessly, the most powerful Stunning spell that Harry knew streaked towards Malfoy.

Malfoy was just able to duck out of the way, mostly. The Stunner still caught him in his side, spinning him around like a top and sending him crashing into the wall.

Harry moved closer.

"You've been winding me up since the first day I met you," he said. "Spreading lies about me. Insulting my friends. Trying to have Hagrid expelled, and Buckbeak killed. And every time, I let you go. One day, I thought, I'd get my own back. I'd get you, and you'd pay for everything that you've done."

Malfoy pushed himself upright.

"I suppose you think that I'm going to pay now, do you?" he spat.

"No, I know it." The idea of Malfoy, the lying, preening bigot in front of him, even thinking he had a chance against him...

Harry waved his wand. A Splitting Hex spat forward and caught Malfoy in his shoulder. Malfoy cried out as the hex shredded his robes and tore at the skin beneath. He staggered backwards, and then swung his wand arm in a backhand sweep. He yelled out a spell that Harry had never encountered before, and an orange beam fired out at him.

Harry threw himself to one side, letting the spell impact the wall behind him. It burned away at the stone, and Harry grimaced as he realised that Malfoy had just cast acid at him.

Standing up, he waved his wand, casting a Paralysis Hex at Malfoy, who was able to throw himself backwards, suffering a heavy landing on the stone floor but avoiding the painful spell which would have locked his spine in whatever position it was in when the spell hit.

Casting from the floor, Malfoy threw a Burning Hex in Harry's direction, but Harry was easily able to deflect it with a Shield Charm. With a wave of his wand, Malfoy was disarmed, his wand leaping from his hand and clattering to the floor several feet away. Malfoy grimaced and dived towards it, but Harry was able to run past him and kick it further along the corridor, far from Malfoy's reach.

"Potter, you worthless wretch," Malfoy said, as he pushed himself upright, slowly, only able to use one arm. Blood glistened on his bared shoulder.

"Malfoy, don't be stupid," Harry said. "I've beaten you."

"I'm still breathing," Malfoy said, launching himself towards Harry.

Harry was stunned that Malfoy was prepared to fight with his fists, and this surprise allowed the blonde Slytherin to get a clean blow through, his fist slamming into Harry's jaw and sending him sprawling backwards. Harry blinked in surprise, before he kicked out, his foot catching Malfoy on the thigh. Malfoy cried out in surprise, and staggered backwards, letting Harry get to his feet.

"Malfoy, you can't win this!" Harry yelled. "I've got a wand, and you haven't! It doesn't have to come down to this, you idiot. Just walk away, before one of us ends up doing something they'll regret."

"I won't regret it, Potter," Malfoy yelled. "I'll beat you, you worthless half-blood. I'll drag you to the Dark Lord, and laugh as he kills you. You don't stand a chance, Potter. I've learnt a lot in the last year -- with Father in jail, it fell to me to be the one who upheld the Malfoy name, and I could hardly do that if I didn't know the right spells, could I?"

"You don't have a wand, you idiot!" Harry said.

"Then I'll have to use yours!"

Malfoy dived forward again, grappling Harry around the waist and sending the two of them crashing to the floor. Malfoy was on him in a flash, driving his fist into Harry's face and making a grab for his wand.

Harry reached up and grabbed Malfoy's face, trying to push the other boy's head back and force him off him. He felt Malfoy's hand close around his throat, squeezing and choking him. Gagging, he dug one finger into Malfoy's eye, trying not to think about what we has doing, just pushing and forcing Malfoy to let go of him.

He clambered to his feet, blocking a punch from Malfoy as the blonde-haired boy rose too. He brought his wand around, wanting to end the fight before either of them was seriously hurt, but Malfoy lunged forward and caught his wand hand. Harry felt the wand shake as Malfoy closed his fingers around it. You will never achieve such good results with another wizard's wand, Mr. Ollivander had told him, years before. But Malfoy would certainly be able to hurt him.

"I'm going to make you suffer, Potter," Malfoy snarled, one eye bloodshot, his normally neat appearance badly dishevelled by their fight. His other hand caught the back of Harry's head, tightening on his hair and pulling his head back. "I'm going to hurt you before you die. And when you're dead, I'll go after your friends--"

"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry roared. He was bare inches away from Malfoy now as they grappled for the wand. He flailed with his free hand, and managed to grab the pack of Malfoy's robes.

"Make me," Malfoy yelled back. "I'll hurt them, and I won't bother with just their reputations. I'll just break them. I think that I'll use Crucio."

The wand bucked in Harry's hand. Malfoy took advantage of Harry's shock to wrench it upward, his hand clasped around Harry's, the wand pointing upwards, between their faces.

"Shut up!" Harry yelled.

"Don't like that, do you, Potter?" Malfoy spat, his saliva flecking Harry's face. "Don't like to imagine the Mudblood screaming out in agony--"

"Shut up!" Harry yelled again, wrenching at the wand, feeling it shake in his hand. He couldn't remember ever wanting anything so much as he wanted to hurt Malfoy at that moment.

"--or those ginger paupers you like so much. There's a lot of them, isn't there, Potter? Enough to share around--"

"Harry!"

It was all too much. Harry felt as though a bomb had exploded against his chest. He was thrown backward, and he blacked out.

*

"Harry? Harry?"

Harry's eyes flickered open.

"I am glad that you have awakened," Dumbledore said, peering down at him. "We can only hope that Mr. Malfoy will be so lucky."

Harry looked past the headmaster. The corridor looked as though it had been the scene of a massive bomb blast -- debris was strewn everywhere, and there were burn marks along the walls and floor. Lying a considerable distance away down the corridor was a black heap. Only a flash of pale blonde hair at one end identified the twisted and broken shape as Draco Malfoy.

To be continued...

(Author's Note: Less than a week to go! I'm opening myself up for questions here. While I try and answer questions in review replies, there's a lot of questions that have been asked several times, so it might help if I answer them in the text of a chapter, in more detail as well. If you have any questions for me regarding this story, ask away.)