Harry Potter and the Wizards of Narhassa

Chapter 21: The Final Stretch

Both wizards shouted at each other at the same time, their words becoming an incomprehensible jumble of sound. Hermione squinted against the glaring morning sun and saw that one of the boys had fallen over, his wand several feet to his left, and the other was of, sprinting into the woods.

Ron had reacted sooner than Hermione, realizing that it was Harry who had been blasted by the disarming spell before he was able to get his spell off.

"Fiacco!" cried Ron, as a blast of blue shot forth from his wand

Hermione, through the morning glare, could make out Malfoy diving behind a snow bank, as the blue ray of a Slowing Charm slammed into it and fizzled out of existence. And then, Malfoy was up, shouting loudly.

"Accio Nimbus 2001!"

The pale boy continued sprinting as Ron followed, leaping atop a fallen tree and dropping to a knee, with careful aim.

"Effetto!" shouted Ron as he continued to cast upon the fleeing form of Draco. Hermione chased Ron, her wand drawn, but no spells forthcoming.

Malfoy attempted to dodge to the side as he waited for his broom. Ron's well-aimed Force Charm spell caught him in the shoulder. Malfoy was shoved violently and propelled across the snowy ground nearly twenty feet, narrowly avoiding about a dozen trees. To Malfoy's fortune, a nasty, dropping slope took over where Ron's spell ended, sending Draco rolling down nearly twenty more feet, and out of Hermione's sight.

* * * * * * * * * * *

A tree stopped Draco's forward motion abruptly and painfully. Behind him, a faint trail of blood was visible in the pearly white snow. He gently touched the side of his stinging face with a shaking hand. As he pulled his finger away, he saw droplets of steaming blood upon his pale fingers.

"Ugh," snarled Draco, as he willed himself to his feet.

Malfoy glanced around with panic, but thankfully, the Sorting Hat was still to the left of him, just within reach. He grabbed it again within his free hand and began to move.

Sliding across the icy, rough snow had taken a toll on him, for while the desire to keep on moving was there, his body simply could not comply with the same vigor. He limped slowly forward, but was not out of sight before he heard the sounds of Ron beginning another spell, from atop the steep slope. Draco quickly threw himself behind a tree as a large explosion of force shot up ice crystals from the ground next to him.

That's it, Weasley, snapped Draco, pressing himself forcefully against a tree. He twirled the wand between his fingertips, still possessing fair dexterity, despite his battered state. Taking a chance, Draco charged himself a glance up the slope, spotting the tall, red-haired boy like a pillar of fire, standing out from the snowy landscape. Ron had made no move to try and descend the slope, instead choosing to aim his next spell. Draco pulled his head behind the tree just in time to narrowly avoid Ron's spell, a second Slowing Charm that would have insured victory. Instead, it hit the ground next to him, fizzling out with a hiss.

"Try this on for size, Weasel," muttered Draco, as he stepped out from behind the tree and quickly took aim. "Riscaldare!"

A blast of red energy, the color of Ron's hair, streaked forth from Draco's wand, directly at the lanky boy's feet. Ron was quick enough to react and leap backwards, however, Draco's aim seemed to be off. It struck the snowy ground right beneath his feet, causing Ron to laugh haughtily.

"You don't have anything, Malfoy!" shouted Ron arrogantly, taking aim again as Draco ducked back behind the tree.

Draco smirked and poked his head out teasingly. "Guess again, moron!"

The Heating Charm had taken ahold of the ground beneath Ron, turning it from solid, rough ice, to wet, slippery smooth slush. Ron, now realizing his predicament, tried to back away from the edge of the slope, now seeing Draco's intention. This move, however, cost him his balance. His feet slipped on the fresh, now smooth ice and flew out from underneath him. Without any traction, Ron was sent careening down the slope, right towards Draco.

Ron spun head over heels, somersaulting down the gradual drop, causing even Draco to wince. With a thud, Ron collided into the tree Draco happened to be hiding behind, groaning audibly. Draco stepped out from behind the tree, pried Ron's wand out from under his body, and tossed it into a nearby evergreen tree.

"You just can't win, can you Weasel?" clucked Draco snidely, as he held his wand over Ron.

Ron, being much taller and much less flexible than Draco, had taken much more damage from his tumble than Draco did. His lips and chin were bleeding, and he sported many scrapes upon his arms. It also appeared that one of his legs was either fractured or dislocated.

The red-haired boy groaned in pain, grabbing his leg with shocked hands. "You... you better... not have done anything to her..."

Draco looked at Ron and was about to speak, when his Nimbus 2001 shot over the trees and descended down to him.

"Looks like my ride is here," said Draco calmly. "And no, Weasley, I took good care of her." For added insult, he leaned forward. "Real good care of her, if you get my meaning."

Draco laughed evilly as Ron tried to kick him with his good leg. The seeker was too quick for him as he leapt back out of range. He calmly opened his backpack and prepared to put the Sorting Hat within.

And then, he heard it.

"Stupefy!"

It was only blind luck that saved Draco as Harry's spell nicked a branch of the tree above him, sending it off track and firmly into the ground next to the pale-failed boy. A quick glance above his head showed him all that he needed to see... Harry was airborne above his head, atop his Firebolt, with his wand extended.

"Oh, it is just raining Gryffindors in the forest today!" growled Malfoy as he threw the Sorting Hat into his opened backpack and aligned his wand into the air. "Stupefy!"

Draco might as well have been trying to hit a fly with a toothpick, for Harry was quick to dodge the spell on top of his broom as he came about, decreasing in altitude and panning around the branches to line up a clean shot at Draco.

With all intention of fleeing, Draco hopped on his own broom and prepared to push off the ground. Yet, to his surprise, while his broom was more than eager to lift off... his left leg desired not to. Ron had crawled quickly upon the ground and was forcibly holding Draco in place.

"I've got em, Harry!" cried Ron.

Draco scowled at Ron and planted the heel of his other foot into the boy's face, causing him to swoon and release his leg. With an indignant grunt, Draco lifted off, just in time to avoid another Stunning Charm.

Draco came about, shooting into the air, with Harry in hot pursuit, upon his overall faster and better Firebolt.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Harry urged his broom forward with one hand and held his wand out, taking aim at Draco's swerving back.

"Do it," said a voice within his head, perhaps Harry's own inner devil. "Stop him using any means necessary!"

Harry grit his teeth. "Stupefy!"

Draco swerved to the right in the sky above, cursing loudly as the spell that would have crippled him and sent him spiraling down to the ground one-hundred and fifty feet beneath them narrowly missed.

No! said Harry, forcing himself to lower his wand. I am better than this! I will not kill him!

Harry felt suddenly conflicted. If he could not catch Draco, if he got the Sorting Hat back to his father, undoubtedly where he was heading now, it would be all over. They would be powerless to fight Voldemort or Redetyor, whoever took the power of Narhassa for their own first.

It was then that an idea popped into his head. He began to feel better at once, knowing that his own good spirit was in the driver's seat again.

I won't kill Malfoy, decided Harry. But I'll make him think I am trying to!

Harry nodded firmly and lined up another shot, aiming to miss Draco by ten feet. If he could force Malfoy to make a desperate move, perhaps he'd wipe out on his own, or even surrender.

It was a risk Harry felt he needed to take.

"Stupefy!" exclaimed Harry, as a purple blast of energy shot past Malfoy to his right. Draco looked back over his shoulders, pure panic written on his face as he slowed his forward motion.

"Stupefy!" cried Harry, aiming this time for the other side of Draco.

And suddenly, Draco did something Harry did not expect... he slammed his broom handle down and shot downward like a falling arrow, likely a move borne out of desperation, for Draco knew he could not outrun Harry on his Firebolt. He sped at lightning speed toward the canopy beneath them.

Trying the Wronski Feint, Malfoy? Asked Harry mentally, as he dove after Malfoy, spiraling toward the rapidly approaching evergreens. I'm game.

Draco disappeared beneath the blanket of green in the forest as Harry trailed him closely, zigzagging in between thick branches and plowing somewhat painfully through twigs.

On second thought, began Harry as he held up his wand hand defensively to block his face from stray pine needles. This might have been a bad idea!

Harry lifted the handle of his broom just in time to avoid the ground. A quick glance to his North spied Malfoy zooming in between the thick trees, not looking back to see if Harry was still following him. It was clear that, should he chance looking back, he would be just as likely to slam head-on into a tree.

What is he doing? Thought Harry, as he took off after him. He's going to get himself killed!

Harry decreased his speed, for despite his own flying prowess, he was not comfortable ripping through the thick forest at nearly fifty miles per hour. Malfoy had done so as well, zigging and zagging in between trees, trying desperately to escape his seemingly bloodthirsty pursuer.

Malfoy zoomed harshly to the left, threading himself in between two birch trees in a daring move.

This isn't going to happen, decided Harry. He may have nothing to loose, but I have friends! If I keep following him this way, one of us will get killed...

With that, Harry lifted further into the air, brushing through the treeline again.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Malfoy chanced a terrified look back, but could not spot his pursuer.

"Oh thank whoever is listening up there," exclaimed Malfoy as he slowed his speed to a reasonable cruising speed. "He... he was trying to kill me!"

Malfoy considered that for a moment, but then shrugged. "I suppose if I were in his shoes, I'd be trying to kill me too..."

A brook had opened up in front of him, a thankful reprieve from the never ending lines of trees threatening to crush him should he slam headlong into one. He calmly turned his broom east, speeding above the creek... bringing him closer to home.

"Thank the maker that this nightmare is finally ov..."

Malfoy was suddenly slammed to the side as Harry sideswiped him from out of nowhere, shoving Malfoy over fifteen feet and barely keeping him upon his broom. It was clear now that Harry had deceived him into slowing down by taking the high route.

"Fuckin A!" shouted Malfoy, as he drew his wand. "You are just a sod that won't flush down the john, aren't you?" he roared, as he pointed his wand awkwardly at Harry, using his other hand to keep his balance on the broom. "Stupefy!"

Harry slammed into Malfoy's side again as he flew parallel to him, causing his wand to shutter and for his spell to fly a few inches in front of Harry.

"Stop moving, Malfoy!" shouted Harry as they both picked up pacing, zooming downriver, side-by-side.

Malfoy glared at Harry as the wind ripped wildly through his hair. "Yeah sure! How's this?"

Malfoy pulled his broom to the side, slamming into Harry roughly. Unfortunately for Malfoy, Harry had been thinking the same strategy, and both boys collided fiercely into each other, causing them both to gasp in pain, though Harry was crying out loudly.

It was sheer luck that Malfoy's wand happened to be pointed head-level with Harry, after he had realigned it for a new spell. And, it was horrible luck for Harry that Malfoy's wand caught him in the eye during the massive collusion with enough force to shatter one of the lenses. The Boy Who Lived screamed, grabbing his eye with so much agony written on his face that it stopped Malfoy dead in his tracks. Without two hands for balance on his broom, Harry toppled off his Firebolt, slapping loudly into the shallow stream thirty feet below.

* * * * * * * * * * *

"Ah," hissed Voldemort loudly, "Lucius, your prodigal son returns... he is approaching the Manner as we speak."

Voldemort was sitting upon the same, soft recliner within the hall in Malfoy Manner. This time, however, Harry noticed that Nagini was nowhere to be seen.

Lucius Malfoy's face was drawn into a scowl. He was apparently out of breath as he took deep, labored gasped of air. It was possible that he had just run into the room a moment ago.

"The fool managed to get himself expelled from Hogwarts, and even the Ministry of Magic is looking for him, as a criminal! If he is seen here, I could be sent to Azkaban for harboring him! I received all of this by owl five minutes ago." Lucius swore angrily. "When he gets back, I am going to kill him myself!"

"You did tell him 'any means necessary'," offered Voldemort slyly. "You see, Lucius, your son has just risked everything for my cause..."

Voldemort's expression suddenly became stern, and Harry groaned in pain as his scar exploded with pain.

"... something I have never seen you do. So, you will shut that wretched hole in your face before I deem you a fitting snack for Nagini."

Lucius immediately dropped to his knees as an explosion of panic crossed his face. He clutched Voldemort's robes pathetically. "Forgive me, my master. Please forgive me."

"I believe, when your son returns, he will be made official," trailed off Voldemort, ignoring Lucius like a spec of dust. "I will complete his education, now that Hogwarts has shunned him. You see, Lucius... Lord Voldemort rewards loyalty in his subjects."

Lucius looked up at Voldemort, his eyes wide. "What...?"

"As you once so eloquently wrote to your son, now, I will dictate the same sentiments to you," began Voldemort, his swirling red eyes glaring. "It is time for you to do your duty to the Dark Lord."

"Anything," groveled Lucius, still upon his knees.

Voldemort sneered and put his hand upon Lucius' head. "You will turn your only begotten son over to me. I will complete his rearing... in time he will call me Father. And when he becomes of age, he will take his place by my side, and you too will call him Master."

Lucius bit his lip with fury, his pale cheeks becoming flushed with red.

"Are you ready to do your duty to the Dark Lord?" repeated Voldemort coldly.

"Please, my Lord," begged Lucius, never before sounding so fragile and defeated. "Ask me to cut my hand off as you did Wormtail... ask me to harbor you forever within my home... do not ask me for my only son. I... cannot give him to you."

"I will be needing a new simulacrum when I dispose of Redetyor," said Voldemort nastily. "You know that Draco has been prepared from infancy to accept this burden, in case something... unforeseen happened to the Redetyor boy. All he is missing is one final spell, and he will feed me in case of trouble again."

"That was then," said Lucius, still clutching Voldemort's robes like a child pleading to his mother. "I was young, and foolish. Please, don't take Draco from me... he's my son!"

Voldemort scowled at Lucius. "Am I sensing mutiny?"

"No!" countered Lucius. "Let me prepare you another child... I work at the Ministry, I can find you another... just please, not Draco! Have mercy, my Lord!"

Voldemort licked his lips cruelly.

"Perhaps you are not ready to do your duty... and need some encouragement. Where is that lovely wife of yours?"

* * * * * * * * * * *

"You seem to be spending more time in the hospital wing than in class!" clucked Madam Pomfrey agitatedly as she stormed back to her office, after inspecting over Harry. "You'll need to stay overnight so I can fix up that eye of yours."

Harry's eyes fluttered open with a start, pulling him forcefully out of Malfoy Manner, and back to his cot in the hospital wing. He sighed and laid back deeply into his pillow, a moan escaping from his lips.

Ron was still fuming, sitting upright in the next bed over with a splint over his leg and a bandage over his nose, where Malfoy had kicked him with all his might.

"When I get my hands on that pasty little prat..." he snarled, punching his right hand into his left fist angrily.

Harry was bruised painfully from his fall to the water, and a white bandage covered his right eye. The injured boy did not even want to know how bad his eye was, or whether it had been replaced outright or not. He had fallen unconscious before he knew exactly how bad Malfoy had jabbed it, but it had been bleeding. The last thing he remembered was hitting the water.

Hermione had told him that she had found him on the shore of the brook, lying in a recovery position, with a shred of green blanket wrapped around his head, over his eye. Harry hated to speculate that Malfoy had helped him... but he could find no other feasible solution as to why he hadn't drowned.

The doors to the hospital flew asunder as Hermione entered briskly, a look of pure worry written upon her brow.

"Hermione," said Harry, staring at her with his only functioning eye.

Hermione looked down at Harry. "Are you alright?" she asked, pulling up a chair and caressing his head with tender concern.

"I feel like my eye was poked out by a lance," he muttered. "We need to tell Dumbledore what happened."

"I've already taken care of it," she said calmly, rubbing his head. "Malfoy has been expelled."

While these were words Harry would have loved to hear anytime before this, they just seemed so meaningless now. Malfoy had won; being expelled now was of such a little consequence.

"Also," continued Hermione, with a trace of sadness in her voice. "The Ministry of Magic has put out a search warrant for him... if he is caught, he will be tried for possible Azkaban time," she lowered her eyes. "The charges are kidnapping, assault, underage use of magic outside of school, and grand theft of a priceless artifact."

Ron sat back smartly, for the first time in weeks, smiling. "I've died and gone to heaven."

Harry could not help but frown. Remembering his figment from his unconsciousness, he knew the sinister truth. He knew that the Ministry would never find Draco and his education would continue with one on one lessons from the Dark Lord himself. He would become a wizard as dark as Voldemort...

... yet, hauling an unconscious enemy out of a stream and caring for his wounds hardly seemed like the actions of a dark wizard.

"Alright," said Harry. "Malfoy is out of the picture... it is safe to assume that he's back at Malfoy Manner, hidden away safely by his father."

Hermione and Ron both nodded.

"Where does this leave us?" asked Harry.

Hermione pulled out a small calendar from her pocket. "Today is the ... twenty fourth," she said calmly. "Thirty days has November... ugh," she said. "Only one week left."

"Then, it's crunch time," said Harry firmly. "Redetyor is not backing down... he will be at the peak of Ben Nevis the night of December 1^st, after having distracted the school long enough for him and his most willful followers to escape. The rebellion idea concerning the third years won't happen... but Neville Longbottom is going to be the key his distraction, whatever it will be. He is going to let something into the Gryffindor common room."

"Neville?" exclaimed Ron.

Harry nodded. "He's been duped into working for Redetyor..."

"Can't we just talk to him?" cried Hermione.

"And if that fails," said Harry, "He'll tell Redetyor, and he'll change the plan. I think it is better if we let Neville make his move first... then stop him."

Ron nodded from his own bed. "Agreed."

Harry turned to look at Hermione with his eye. "Hermione, let's take a lesson from Malfoy here... they used lightning bolts and Hemophilia hexes upon him, nearly killing him. While we are out of commission, can you go to Lupin and see if he knows the counter curses for those spells?" Harry lowered his head. "We will need them if we run into Redetyor."

Hermione nodded. "I can do that, Harry, though why don't we do that tomorrow, when you are healthy. Tonight, I'll check the library's Restricted Section... if I can borrow your cloak."

Harry nodded. "Ok Hermione. I'll trust your judgment there." Harry then turned his green eye to Ron

"You and me..." said Harry, looking desperately to his best friend, who nodded without a word.

"I know what you are going to say," said Ron. "We need to find another weapon that can be used to fight ... this Narhassa. We cannot use Gryffindor's sword, but there has to be something else!"

"Also," said Harry, trailing off. "You and Hermione should practice your Patronus Summoning... I suspect dementors will also be at Ben Nevis."

"How do you figure?" asked Ron, with a nervous twitch.

"A hunch," said Harry slowly, shaking his head. "While unconscious before, I had visions of Voldemort... meeting with Lucius Malfoy. They said something about their guy in the Ministry smuggling over dementors from Iraq."

Ron winced. "Blimey... Seth has no idea what he is getting himself into!"

Hermione tapped her foot upon the ground in careful consideration. "I do not like this... very rarely do we have all the information before something comes crashing down on our heads; we are always unpleasantly surprised. Here, it seems like we know everything and are free to choose who to side with."

Harry sighed. "It is like I am removed from this whole... messy situation. I can see what Seth is doing, and I can see what Voldemort is doing to thwart Seth... and both seem to underestimate each other to a pathetic extent."

"What are you thinking then, Harry?" asked Ron as he adjusted his leg painfully.

Harry smirked slightly as he adjusted the white patch over his eye. "First, you and me need to get out of here tomorrow."

"What about..." began Ron, "could we... raid Malfoy Manner and try to steal the sword back from Draco?"

Harry shook his head, dismissing the notion at once. "Voldemort safeguards the sword of Gryffindor now, for Draco brought it to him." With a sigh, he fell back into his pillows. "The sword is out of the equation."

Ron glared at his leg coldly. "All I want is Malfoy, one on one, without magic."

"Keep wanting," said Hermione shrewdly.

Madam Pomfrey, entering the room once again in her hospital robes, cut off further conversation. With her large, plump hands, she began shooing away Hermione.

"The boys need rest now. Out with you."

Hermione kissed Harry upon the cheek quickly as Madam Pomfrey ducked into a closet, to pull out some fresh bandages for Harry's eye. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said hastily.

She turned to Ron, and looked down on him a bit hesitantly.

Harry noticed this, and licked his lips with amusement.

She bowed down and kissed Ron on the cheek as well.

"You too, ok?" she said softly.

Ron looked up at her, "Ok," he replied shyly.

Hermione laughed and pushed a bang of his curly red hair out of his eyes. To Harry's amazement, he caught Hermione's hand and kissed it softly.

"I'm so relieved you are safe, still," he said quietly, his voice not much above a murmur. "I... couldn't sleep last night."

Hermione blushed and blinked her eyes slowly. She leaned over to him and whispered in his ear. "It means so much to me that you care that much,"

Despite the whisper, Harry could still make out the words. Kiss her, you stubborn, naïve prat, willed Harry mentally.

Yet, Ron, the complete opposite of a romantic to the end, missed his opportunity as he smiled at Hermione and rubbed her chin with a brush of his finger.

"I'll see you tomorrow," said Hermione, with a smile as she hurried out of the room.

Once Hermione left the hospital wing, and the door clicked shut behind her, Ron closed his eyes and grunted deeply. He grabbed his forehead with both of his hands and pushed two handfuls of ruddy hair back on his scalp.

"I should have kissed her, right?"

All Harry could do was laugh.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Madam Pomfrey had agreed to let Ron and Harry go as soon as she prepared some salves for Harry's eye that he would need to apply for the next few days. The bandages had been removed and Harry was happy to see that Pomfrey had worked her magic, quite literally. If anything, Harry could see better out his newly repaired eye, which was sort of disorientating at first.

Yet, this was not before Harry had a rather awkward visit real early the next morning.

When Jessica walked into the room, Ron felt his throat constrict with horror.

"Harry!" exclaimed Jessica, who rushed into the room early that morning. "Are you ok, what happened?"

Harry stared at Jessica for a long moment, and Ron could feel his confusion and hatred welding up within his eyes. Jessica, who also knew Harry well, caught on very quickly, taking a step back.

"Harry, what's wrong?" she asked, cocking her head innocently.

Ron glanced between Harry and Jessica frantically, as Harry stood up slowly, with the intensity of a panther, about to strike.

"Harry... you are scaring me," quivered Jessica, backing off. "What... what's wrong?"

Ron glanced over to see Madam Pomfrey hurrying over with a small bottle. The burley woman momentarily swallowed Harry's tide of hostility as she handed him the bottle.

"Drop that into your eye every three hours, or else it will fall out," she said busily, as she knelt down next to Ron and inspect his leg.

Harry looked down at the bottle of green gel as if it were the most hopeless and useless thing he had ever received.

"Thanks," he said coldly, as his glare snapped back up the Jessica. He did not say anything, but simply scowled at her, with fierce hatred.

And then, Harry's tenacity earned him a victory. Jessica's charming, sweet and innocent face suddenly widened, and it was almost like she transfigured. The Jessica he knew and loved was gone, as if transfigured by an illusion. The charming, sweet innocence behind her eyes was replaced at once by a cold cunning, the likes of which Harry had only seen in two other people... Lucius Malfoy, and the Dark Lord himself. Her charming, sweet innocent face suddenly shifted into a scowl, as her thin brows narrowed over her eyes.

"You know..." is all she said, in a cold, ruthless voice, before she turned to sprint for the door.

Harry raced after her, his rage taking the drivers seat as Madam Pomfrey looked up from Ron's leg, glaring at both of them. Both stopped dead in their tracks under the weight of her glare.

"Know what, my love?" asked Harry, in his patented chillingly calm voice he tended to use before exploding. He took her arm rather harshly under his. "Shall we go for a walk, my love?"

Jessica's glare of cool hatred was drowned out as Harry pulled her out the door, followed nervously by Ron. The door shut behind him.

"How did you find out, Potter?" demanded Jessica, as she was forcefully escorted down the hallway.

Ron took up their side, with a look of anger upon his face as well. The anger Ron felt was nothing compared to what Harry exhibited however.

After walking no more than ten feet from the Hospital Wing, Harry grabbed both of Jessica's shoulders and drove her into the wall forcibly, pinning her their with his superior strength.

"Why did you do this to me?" sneered Harry, his voice deathly quiet.

Jessica fixed him with a glare that could have froze water. "I was just doing my job!"

"The Sorting Hat told us," said Ron icily. "It told us you were a shoo-in for Slytherin, but your amazing loyalty and dedication to your work was so strong."

The blonde-haired girl inspected Ron like her were a flea. "I am loyal to my family and to..." Jessica trailed off, looking at Harry very snidely. "... those I truly love, Potter."

Harry lifted his hand to slap her in a fit of rage. Yet before he made contact with her cheek, he checked himself. I am not like this... he told himself. Don't change who you are; it will prove she won.

Harry lowered his open palm. "All of it was a lie then? All those good times we shared, all those times I made you laugh, all those talks... all of it was a lie?"

"Let me go, Potter," she said coldly. "No, none of it was a lie. I care for you, even if I am committed to Redetyor. I did not want you involved with this... but fate would not have it that way."

"Liar!" shouted Harry, but at once, Ron grabbed him by the shoulder.

"Quiet! Pomfrey will hear you," his friend demanded.

Seeing the truth behind Ron's words, Harry pulled Jessica off the wall and half-escorted, half-yanked Jessica violently down the corridor.

"Opposites attract, Harry," said Jessica in between gasps of indignity. "You are high-spirited, loving and true, and I am methodical, hateful and manipulating."

Harry glared down at her. "You are self-aware as well, but when I'm betrayed by so many people, I am clueless as to the person I become. We do differ in many respects."

Harry roughly pulled Jessica down a corridor, leading toward the dungeon.

"What are you going to do, Potter?" demanded Jessica, her eyes widening. "You can't just kill me!"

"It all makes sense," said Harry coldly as he marched down the hallway, with a now panicked Ron following shortly behind. "You switched the Sorolith and the Remembrall at the Quidditch game, to cover Seth's arse, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"And you pretended to be a Muggle all along to quell my suspicions?" demanded Harry. "And you did a fine job of it as well. I bet you rigged those cabinets before hand to open at your house."

"Wandless magic," said Jessica dourly. "I created random effects around the room with wandless magic. The Ministry cannot pick it up because we have wards all around our House to keep us safely anonymous."

"Yeah," said Ron crisply. "Your father has a lot of enemies, doesn't he, Jessica?"

"Or..." said Harry with utter loathing. "Should I call you Ms. Spencer, the daughter of Garret Spencer... the Death Eater who sold antiques for a living."

"Fine," said Jessica, giving into the point. "You have figured it all out, haven't you boys?"

Harry stopped moving once they were safely buried away in the winding side passages at Hogwarts, far away from where anyone might be found walking this early in the morning.

"No," said Harry, turning to look at Jessica. "Where do you and Redetyor fit in together?"

Jessica pouted firmly, shaking off Harry's arm. Sensing she was not going anywhere, Harry let her go. Ms. Spencer seems to be taking defeat rather graciously... like she lost a chess game or something.

"We grew up together," hissed Jessica, crossing her arms. "My father and Clegg Dumbledore were great friends, before Clegg was killed in a freak accident."

"Clegg Dumbledore?" asked Ron crisply.

"The dark wizard grandson of our good Headmaster," admitted Jessica proudly. "Seth was adopted and safeguarded by the young wizard, who had no family of his own. It was an old fashion apprentice/master relationship."

Ron looked to Harry, with a wide-eyed expression. "Hermione was right!"

"I see," said Harry angrily, his expression beyond livid. His breath came to him in labored gasps. "One more question... why the hell, if you were fleeing from Voldemort... would you move to 6 Privet Drive, the place next door to where Voldemort licks his lips at all summer!"

Jessica leered evilly, her own nervousness seeming to drain from her body. "I'd have thought that was obvious..."

Harry stared at her.

"Because, you goof," said Jessica, suddenly shifting into her smiley, naïve and innocent little self. "If Redetyor's plan was discovered by Voldemort... we'd need another Heir of Slytherin to break the lock binding Narhassa, since only an Heir of Slytherin can do it!" Jessica giggled innocently, driving daggers down Harry's spine as she leaned into him.

"And the first two ways to get a guy to do what you want is appeal his heart..." she pointed to Harry's chest. "And then appeal to his..." Jessica glanced down briefly and winked.

Harry pushed her away from him forcefully. "You whore... you two timing, power-hungry whore."

Jessica's innocent expression faded again. "I'm married to power, Potter... in no way have I been unfaithful."

Harry leaned against the wall, feeling lightheaded. "Leave."

Jessica scoffed. "You are just going to let me go, Potter?"

"Get out of my fucking face, Jessica," said Harry slowly, not looking up.

Jessica smirked evilly. "Oh yeah, I should probably introduce myself... after all the good times we have had together. I'm Carle Spencer."

"Well, Carle," said Harry, looking up. "I hope Redetyor is more loyal to you than you are to me... because if he fails and Voldemort gets his hands on you, he will take his time."

Jessica slowly began to walk away, fading into the shadows of the halls in Hogwarts. "Not as long as he will take when he gets his hands on you, Harry Potter... the Boy Who Lived... and in the process, sentenced both Voldemort and Redetyor to thirteen years of agony."

And then, she was gone, leaving Harry alone with Ron, who was still catching flies. Ron had no words of comfort for Harry, for there were simply none to give. Harry knew this situation sucked... he could not kill Jessica, nor could he even hurt her.

The shameful truth of that matter was that he was still very much in love with her.

"We have much to do in one week," said Harry at last, showing forth his true, inner strength. The shame in his eyes was almost painful for Ron to look at, but Harry's smooth and calm tone of voice put Ron at ease.

Ron clasped Harry's shoulder. "If you need to let off steam, any time, let me know."

"Even when you are asleep?" asked Harry, with the hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth.

Ron looked down at Harry good-naturedly. "Don't push my benevolence."

Harry grabbed Ron's hand, which was still holding his shoulders. He held it firmly for support, as if uniting his resolve with that of Ron. He instantly felt better.

"Let's get started," said Harry at last. "Malfoy may have taken my sword, Redeytor may have taken my patience, Jessica may have taken my pride, and Dumbledore may have taken my friend... but I'll be damned if someone takes away my soul."

Both Ron and Harry both shuttered for a moment, as they analyzed Harry's words, in light of Harry's revelation about Voldemort... and the dementors he was planning on bringing to Ben Nevis.

"Please, Ron, practice your Patronus. I'd like to keep my soul..."

"I will."

"Thanks."