Harry Potter and the Wizards of Narhassa

Chapter 19: Gryffindor and Slytherin Volcanoes

Harry angrily kicked the chair out from under his dresser in the Gryffindor Common Room, causing Ron to wince. Two days had passed since Sean's expulsion, and now, freshly out of the Hospital wing, he was learning of the news for the first time.

"How could Dumbledore do that?" roared Harry, slamming his foot into the wooden chair again, sending it skidding across the carpeted floor. "Send him away from Hogwarts all alone! I wouldn't be surprised if Voldemort has him already!"

Ron blinked and sighed. "Harry, I thought you already knew. Didn't he say good-bye to you?"

Harry shook his head, fury cooking upon his face like a sunny-sided egg. "No! Who can blame him?" yelled Harry, for his calm temperament was out to lunch. "You sat by idly while Dumbledore threw him out of school, to face the world again on his own! He had more important things to think about than saying good-bye to me!"

The red-haired boy held up his hands into the air defensively as he slumped upon his bed. "What do you want from me, Harry? If you want me to apologize for the way I treated him while he was here, I hope you have a lot of free time, because it will be awhile."

"No, you self-righteous pillock!" snapped Harry, in rage.

"Then why are you yelling at me!" shouted Ron back, his passionate anger taking the driver seat.

"BECAUSE I'M PISSED OFF!"

Ron wrinkled his brow as he unclogged his pained eardrum with his pinky. "This I can see."

Harry glared at Ron furiously. "Eat sod, prat!"

Ron looked up to Harry, matching his gaze. "Piss off, git!"

And, as if by magic, Harry's angry expression faltered... replaced by a bittersweet laugh. He slumped down on his bed and despite his anger at the situation, he could not help but chuckle. Ron, too, began to smile gradually, as he became more aware that Harry was not mad at him.

"I just cannot believe Dumbledore did that," said Harry, at last having successfully controlled his anger.

Ron gazed over at Harry from his own bed. "It makes sense, Harry. Do you think Voldemort is going to go through all the effort of going to California to find him and take him hostage? He's probably already home, with wards all around his house, placed by Dumbledore himself."

"It's not that, Ron," said Harry, dejectedly. "Sean was my friend even if he was your enemy. I'm going to miss him, ok?"

Ron nodded slowly. "Not as much as Hermione."

"No," said Harry, looking up to his best friend. "As much as Hermione... just in different ways. Despite only knowing him a few months, he became one of my better friends. Loosing a better friend is never easy."

"Hey," said Ron cheerily. "You still got me to kick around, and you still get to be preached at by Hermione... we'll get by."

Harry smiled coyly. "And, I still have Jessica."

At once, Ron's face went ghastly pale, causing his freckles to nearly become luminescent. He looked as though he had overslept a final exam. Not even a blind man could have possibly missed it.

"Ron?" asked Harry. "Is everything ok?"

Ron swallowed a lump in his throat. "Yeah... Jessica... yeah, I guess you still... have her."

"Ron..." trailed off Harry, coaxing Ron like he were a naughty child holding a secret from him. "What's wrong with Jessica?"

"What's wrong with Jessica?" repeated Ron, looking stunned.

"Yes, also known as a question. In tradition, these are generally the precursors for answers," said Harry.

Ron swallowed nervously again. "Look, Harry, now's just not the time to tell you... I mean..."

"Ron."

"No, really, Harry... now is just not the time..."

"Ron."

Ron's face wrinkled up. "No... I'm serious..."

"Ron."

"Alright, fine!" said Ron, growing impatient. "Hermione and I were going to tell you together, but... oh, bugger it Harry, Jessica is working for Redetyor! She isn't even a Narhassa wizard... she was a real wizard all along."

Harry nodded his head slowly, as if Ron had just told him what his transformation homework was, in case he had forgotten.

"Hmm," said Harry, sinking back into his pillow.

Ron, who knew Harry too well, was quick to stand. "Harry, we just found out two days ago... we were going to tell you tonight, after you got out of the hospital. We are sorry!"

"Hmm," continued Harry, scratching his chin, his face still expressionless.

Ron, who again knew Harry too well, began backing away.

"How do you figure that, Ron Weasley?" he asked, his voice sounding genuine, even kind.

Ron lowered his eyes. "The Sorting Hat told us in Dumbledore's office. Sort of saw into her head, you know."

"Hmm."

Ron looked at Harry. "Harry... please... you have that look in your eyes."

"Look?" asked Harry, seeming genuinely perplexed as he folded his hands behind his head. "What look are you referring to?"

Ron backed up another step. "That, 'I'm one step shy of going on a homicidal rage, slaughtering everyone in my path, because I've been wronged in every way, shape and form in the past five minutes' look."

"Oh," said Harry, sounding distant. "Yeah, that one."

Ron knew the volcano within Harry was rumbling, and was two steps shy of blowing its cap.

"Harry..." trailed off Ron.

"Yes," asked Harry, peering at Ron curiously. "Do you need something?"

"No, nothing," said Ron, looking down at his shoes. "You?"

Harry nodded, emotionlessly. "Come to think of it... I do. I need to go on a homicidal rage, slaughtering everyone in my path, because I've been wronged in every way shape and form in the past five minutes."

With that, Harry leapt off his bed, and stomped out of the room, taking strides so fierce that Ron could not even fathom it.

Ron blew steam out from his pressed lips. "Move over Chamber of Secrets... now I've REALLY loosed a monster."

With that, Ron jogged to keep up with Harry.

* * * * * * * * * * *

"Harry!" exclaimed Seamus as Dean and Colin Creevey looked up from their table. Had Harry been in... any frame of mind... he would have thought it strange that Colin was sitting with Seamus and Dean. "I'm glad to see you out of the hospital. You seem to be feeling ok. Care to join us for some Exploding Sn..."

Without a word, or a nod, Harry overturned Seamus' table with a rush of amazing strength, causing Dean and Colin to shout out with shock and leap backward.

Harry stormed out of the common room, pushing aside two nervous first years in his way, sending the smaller of the two boys to the ground.

"Sorry guys," said Ron as he rushed after his best friend. "Harry has gone bye-bye."

Seamus rushed to his room to get his Prozac, leaving a stunned and bewildered Dean and Colin.

"Bring some down for me too," stated the mousy-haired fourth year boy.

* * * * * * * * * * *

"Harry, what... where are you going? It's after curfew, and we are outside of our common room without the invisibility cloak!" exclaimed Ron as he followed after Harry.

"Oh," said Harry kindly, as he rushed down the darkened corridor. "I'm going sort it out with Jessica."

"Sort it out?" winced Ron. "Look, it may not be wise..."

"Damn right it isn't," cut off Harry, passing by the location where Cedric and Harry had exchanged information, nearly a year before.

"If... if you try the Avada Kedavra Curse again... I'm going to try and stop you," stammered Ron.

Harry nodded slowly. "I'll understand and not take it personally."

Ron's eyes widened.

"No!" he shouted, his voice echoing off the barren corridors as they climbed a staircase leading to the Hufflepuff Common Room. He grabbed Harry's shoulder.

Harry's response was a fist driven into the gut of Ron's stomach, causing him to grunt and fall to his knees.

"Sorry," muttered Harry shamefully, as he turned around and continued walking. He finished walking the steps and turned down the last stretch of hallway.

However, if he thought a single punch was going to take Ron down, Harry clearly was not thinking straight. Before he could react, Harry felt about one hundred and seventy pounds of Weasley leap on top of his back, tackling him to the ground. It was a short wrestling match before Ron pinned Harry to the ground, his size advantage and surprise factor making it a rather simple victory.

"Get off me, Ron!" shouted Harry, his cold rage fading into pulsating magma as he thrashed about wildly.

Harry's breath was choked out of him as Ron put his arm against his throat, effectively silencing him. Ron was too big for Harry to resist, and soon, the hostile thrashing ceased.

"Calm down!" hissed Ron in a harsh whisper, and then more gently. "Calm down..."

Harry rasped for air, but Ron felt Harry's body loosen from beneath him. Slowly, Ron lifted his arm from Harry's neck, and Harry took a few deep breaths.

"Stop," said Ron, speaking as calmly as he could muster, despite his own fury at being sucker punched by his best friend.

Harry nodded, blinking sweat from his eyes.

"If you promise me that you'll come back to the Common Room, I'll let you up. I'll take your word on it," said Ron darkly.

"Ok," said Harry weakly, as if his spirit was completely broken.

Ron got off Harry, standing to his impressive height. Harry remained on the ground, coughing after having his oxygen supply cut to his lungs. With as much bravery and self-control as he could muster, Ron extended his hand to Harry, who took it and rose with some help.

"It... it happened again," said Harry, his voice stained by a noticeable wheeze. "I... became a dark wizard again..."

Ron shook his head, helping Harry to stand. "No, Harry... you became more pissed off than you have ever been in your life. I know you weren't going to really use the Avada Kedavra Curse this time. Only Redetyor or Voldemort could have screwed with your mind to make you think that was a good idea. I know you too well, Harry."

Harry sighed and Ron could see the emotions in Harry's eyes fly by as if they were windows. He was feeling scared, frightened, enraged, and used... all in one messy jumble of emotion.

Ron grasped Harry's shoulders. "You AREN'T a dark wizard, and never will be."

Harry nodded weakly, affirming that Ron was right.

"I don't know why I said that," said Harry.

"Hello down there?" called a voice that interrupted Harry and Ron. "What's going on? I cannot see from my position. I smell and hear you, Harry Potter."

Ron's heart leapt to his throat. "It's Filch! Run!" exclaimed Ron.

"No," said Harry, his voice sounding weak, but nonetheless calm. "It's Badge... the Hufflepuff badger."

"Same difference," yelped Ron, pulling at Harry's arm. "We are still going to get more detentions than we have lifetime to serve it if we are caught!"

Harry shook his head, "No, he's decent for a secret or two." He made a move to continue walking toward the Hufflepuff common room. "

"I want to see Jessica... now."

Ron continued pulling at Harry's arm, his face very grave. Ron had used patience beyond his own comprehension, to take Harry's punch and still keep a cool head. Should Harry continue to the Hufflepuff Common Room, Ron knew his patience would run out.

"Harry, you swore to me," sneered Ron. "We are going back to the Gryffindor tower. You gave your word!"

Harry glared at Ron for one of the tensest moments of the red-haired boy's life. For the first time Ron could remember, he was not sure if Harry would choose his friendship over vengeance.

And Ron knew he would really loose control if Harry chose vengeance.

"Sorry Badge," said Harry into the darkness, where he knew the picture of the badger was hung, just a few feet away. "I'm in the wrong hallway."

The voice hummed in consideration. "Doesn't sound like it, Mr. Potter... but, very well. Have a good night."

Without a word, the continued best friends turned around... and walked back to the Gryffindor common room.

* * * * * * * * * * *

The next day, tensions were riding as high as ever.

Harry and Ron, while sharing no distinct dispute, avoided each other out of the sheer awkwardness of facing each other last night, and, for the first time ever, coming to physical blows. Yet, as much as Ron wanted to blame Harry for his actions last night, it was his duty as his friend to forgive him. He had just found out that his girlfriend was working for his sworn enemy and that Dumbledore had severed off a great friend of his that Harry had trusted.

So, it did not help matters much to be sitting next to him during a Double Potions class... one where Snape seemed exceptionally vicious.

"Today," began Snape coolly. "We will begin creating one of the most dangerous potions you will be dealing with during your Hogwarts career. Dealing with the hazards of a Barrier Potion are significant, and can be fatal."

Neville took a deep swallow, his breath catching in his throat. Harry eyed him with a deadly cruel glare... Ron could only wonder why Harry was looking at him like that.

What did Neville do wrong?

"Mr. Potter," said Snape shrilly, causing all the students in the class to turn and stare at him. "Why don't you, from your homework assignment last night, tell me the four hazards that we will be dealing with?"

"I didn't do it," said Harry, turning his head from Neville to the top of his desk. His slouched position was what likely drew Snape's attention, for his cheek was idly resting in the palm of his right hand while he indifferently tapped his quill feather upon table with his left.

"Well, isn't that such a pity" said Snape, clicking his tongue on the top of his mouth. He seemed positively thrilled. "I suppose that is ten points from Gryffindor..."

"Joy," muttered Harry, completely uncaringly.

"... for each question inaccurately answered," continued Snape, looking to his Slytherins. "What does that add up to... I fear I'm not the Arithmancy teacher for a reason."

Draco smirked and raised his hands. "Well, Professor, I do believe that is forty..."

Snape leered coolly at Potter, who had not even flinched upon hearing forty points would be taken from his house. The Slytherins all cackled gleefully.

"Wait!" begged Hermione, raising her hand wildly from Harry's left side. "The four risks are..."

"No one asked you, Ms. Granger... five points for speaking when not called upon. Forty-five, then?"

Malfoy nodded energetically, putting his hand to his mouth and rolling his eyes slyly toward Hermione and Harry.

Ron distinctly caught him winking...

One Slytherin, a boy named Cameron Trent, fell out of his chair laughing, while Pansy Parkinson lay practically sprawled on the table, giggling madly.

Ron could feel his own rage building within him, but it was Harry that spoke first.

"Forty points is a bit harsh, wouldn't you say?" he said calmly, his eyes not lifting from the top of his desk. The hairs on Ron's neck stood up, as his eyes widened. His rage was driven out of his body, as he saw that look in Harry's eyes.

Oh no...

Snape could hardly believe Potter was speaking back. "Shall I take another five, to make it a well rounded fifty?"

Harry rotated his head up slowly, glaring at Snape. "Will my answer make the slightest bit of difference?"

"No, I do not believe so," said Snape joyfully, "Fifty points in one class. Impressive, Potter."

Harry stood up and Ron was half inclined to restrain him... in case he made a move for Snape. Yet, as livid as Harry seemed, all he did was gather his books, and begin to walk out of the class.

"Mr. Potter?" demanded Snape. "Just where do you think you are going? Shall I give you a pair of detentions to go well with your point deficit?"

Harry glanced over his shoulder. "I wish my father had been somewhere else that day."

At first, the Potions teacher did not react. Yet, when the full meaning of the words had sunk in, Snape's arrogant expression shifted slowly into one of pure shock. It was clear that only four people in the room understood the severity of what Harry just said, for even Malfoy seemed perplexed.

Ron's jaw dropped... and Snape said no more as Harry walked out the door.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Snape did not recover from the gravity of Harry's words, and nor did Ron or Hermione for the entire class. No more was spoken on the matter, and Snape sat down behind his desk, staring idly ahead, his arrogance completely stolen. In his sort of dazed stupor, Ron would not be surprised if Snape would completely forget to take the points from Gryffindor.

Hermione was smart enough to know that Harry had wished Snape were dead, very subtly. While there was usually nothing wrong with such a thought, expressing it in the way Harry did upset her deeply.

Harry was always the bastion of good will when Hermione and Ron had run short. He was slow to anger, always forgiving and understanding, and never mean to anyone. One time before, he had lost his cool in Snape's class... but had never said or done anything on par with what he said.

And so, on her way to up to the Gryffindor common room with Ron, talking in hushed tones, she was almost relieved to hear a voice from behind her; a voice which always seemed to do one of two things, insult her or provide answers. She hoped today was a day for the latter.

"Granger," called the voice of Draco Malfoy. "Interesting Potions class, was it not?"

She turned around slowly to see Draco Malfoy, standing alone. Under his right arm, he held his Potions book, and his left hand was combing through his sleek, short platinum blonde hair. His striking, pointed features seemed tense and eager, perhaps even fallible.

Hermione had never seen him looking fallible before.

"Bugger off, Malfoy," sneered Ron. "Sell 'prat' somewhere else..." Ron rolled his eyes up the stairs of the Gryffindor Tower. "We are well stocked here."

Malfoy looked at Ron quizzically. "What gave you the crazy idea I wanted to talk to you, Weasel? I said 'Granger' for a reason."

"Strange," said Hermione, looking to Ron. "You called me 'Granger' and not 'Mudblood'... you are either up to something, have something VERY important to say, or need a cat scan."

Draco licked his thin lips. "Granger," he repeated. "I wish to speak to you, without the barn yard animal."

Ron's fists clenched at his side, but Hermione placed a soft hand to his forearm. Her sweet, soft touch was enough to put him into relative ease, as he loosened up his muscles.

"You want to speak?" repeated Hermione, her face smooth with dignity. "Then speak." Hermione held her dignified countenance. "And as for the barn yard animal, I guess it will have to stay... since the only pig around here is you, Malfoy."

Ron smirked at Hermione as Draco's face tinged with a flustered pink color.

"Charming, Mudblood," said Draco bitterly. "You are formidable in a battle of wits. I do not know how you get such practice with two dunces like Potter and Weasley as the other corners of your social triangle."

Hermione raised her brow. "Compared to the genetic anomalies you usually have at your side, Malfoy, I'll take that as a compliment."

At that, Draco laughed, his gray eyes glittering with a certain sort of emotion. Ron noticed it as the same look he always saw in Harry's eyes, right before the volcano within him erupted.

Determination and desperation.

"I want to talk to you about Seth Redetyor," said Draco, regaining his composure. "Perhaps I have some information that will help you."

Hermione put her hands to her hip. "Well, then you can tell me and Ron together, now can't you? He's just going to find out everything you say anyway."

Draco, again, laughed. Ron could not mistake the stressed look within the boy's face.

"Weasley can wait, then. We just had Double Potions with that mug... I'm not up for seeing it another minute."

Ron stepped forward. "If you have something to say it, spill it... otherwise turn your sallow arse around and head back to that prison cell of a dungeon you Slytherins call home."

Hermione backed Ron up, putting her hands to her hips.

Draco glared at Ron crisply, with a very angry expression. "Fine. Come on."

Malfoy turned around and began walking toward the Great Hall. Ron and Hermione looked to each other, shrugged, and followed him. Malfoy passed the Great Hall and turned into the Main Hall, heading for the door outside.

"Where are we going?" snapped Ron crisply.

"Just come on," sighed Malfoy. "I need to show you something outside."

Ron shrugged and followed after Malfoy, Hermione just behind him. With a push, Malfoy opened up the door. A gust of cold air hit the pale boy, blowing around his short hair for a moment before it died down.

Outside, the snow had hardened to the strength of crispy ice, which nearly blinded Ron with its glare as Malfoy took a step outside. Ron put a hand to his eyes and followed Malfoy outside. His weight was not sufficient to crack the snow beneath him and Malfoy beckoned both to follow him.

"I'm asking you a second time, Malfoy... where are we going?" demanded Ron.

Malfoy turned around, seeming genuine. "I can tell you and waste more of your time, or I can show you and be done with you in five minutes. What's your pleasure?"

Ron snorted. "Lead on."

The trio continued across the field outside of Hogwarts, riding atop the snow precariously. Ron noticed that they were making their way down to the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"It's strange," said Malfoy, with a very sincere tone to his voice. "Crabbe, Goyle and I were out here this morning and found it," continued Malfoy as they drew closer to the wood. "I knew the second I saw it that Granger would need a look at it."

"What is it exactly?" asked Hermione as they drew closer to the forest.

"I have it right here," said Draco, opening the fold of his robe and producing something... his wand.

Before Ron could react, Malfoy hissed loudly and aimed it at Hermione.

"Stupefy!"

A pink beam shot out of Draco's wand and struck Hermione down. She fell unconscious before she could even react.

Draco smirked and turned his wand to Ron, who had begun to withdraw his own... but he was nowhere fast enough in light of this surprise attack.

"Pertificus Totalis!" bellowed Draco, as Ron withdrew his wand. Unable to resist the powerful magic, Ron suddenly stiffened and toppled painfully onto the frosted snow, unable to do anything other than blink, hear or see the blue sky above him.

Ron heard the sounds of two lumbering figures, cracking the icy snow beneath their feet, and heard Draco's voice.

"Take her."

A single grunt told Ron that Crabbe, Goyle or both of them had complied, and were likely now moving Hermione into the Forbidden Forest.

And then, Draco's head appeared in Ron's vision, looking down at him. What was in place of his usual condescending smirk was nothing more than a frown.

"I didn't want it to come to this, Weasley."

If Ron could speak, a stream of colorful swears would have been his reply. Draco seemed to get that message by looking into his eyes.

"Now, listen up... I'm only going to say this once. I want the Sorting Hat, with Godric's Sword in it. You are to come alone with these said objects tomorrow morning."

Ron made a muffled grunt as every part of his body rebelled against the spell placed upon on him. Malfoy was no slouch wizard, however. It was just too strong to overcome.

"Fail to produce the sword and hat by tomorrow, the Mudblood won't be found. If you tell Potter, the Mudblood will never be found. If you tell Dumbledore, the Mudblood will never be found... nor will your sister for the inconvenience."

Ron screamed without opening his mouth, wanting nothing more than to make sure Malfoy was the one never found again.

"Come alone and with the sword and hat, tomorrow morning, and walk a mile directly into the woods from this spot. We will find you. Once you give them over, you and her will be free to go."

All of Ron's struggling rewarded him... he felt the spell weakening around his head and his feet.

"You..." began Ron, willing the words out of his mouth. After a moment, he felt the spell falter all together, as he struggled to rise. Malfoy seemed genuinely surprised that Ron was able to fight off his spell.

"Not another move, Weasley," said Malfoy, pointing his wand to him.

"You... aren't going to get away with this, Malfoy," said Ron, collapsing back onto the snow. There was no trace of Hermione, Crabbe and Goyle by the fringe of the forest.

Malfoy looked at Ron. "Of course I will," he said coldly, without any trace of sarcasm. "I'm a model student, even prefect if I wish to be, but I turned down the job to keep up my image..." Draco trailed off for a minute, recollecting his thoughts. "Oh yeah, and my father will be the next Minister of Magic, and we are rich. Trust me, a Malfoy can survive anything."

Ron glared at Malfoy with reckoning. "If you hurt a hair on her head... you won't survive me. I guarantee it."

The pale boy, silhouetted against the sun, appeared to be some sort of fallen angel, his gray eyes cold with shame and malice, while his hair seemed to glow angelically as the light rippled off it, forming a halo. While Malfoy was unusually a very tightly bound book, Ron could read clearly that Draco was not proud of what he was doing.

"Are you going to do what I have asked you to do?" asked Draco. "And not break the rules I've given you?"

Ron sneered up at Draco. "Yes."

Draco nodded slowly. "Then, she will be fine. I don't want to hurt her."

Ron maintained his cold glare on Draco. "Why are you doing this, Malfoy? We trusted you... sorta. You lied to us and betrayed us."

"Lied, yes," said Draco matter-of-factly. "Betrayed, no... I do not believe once I ever even led you on to believe we were on the same side."

Ron was about to speak again when Malfoy cut him off. "As much as I'd like to keep up this chat, I've gotta run. Good morrow, Weasley."

Malfoy tensed up his rod hand.

"Stupefy!"

And, Ron felt his world slip into the blackness of unconsciousness.