May Day Eve

Elisa

She lifted her tiny fingers up to her eye level and examined them closely, as if she were a physician looking for some sort of evidence of a fungal infection. She shook her pretty little head with discontent and submerged both hands once more under the pinkish bubbles of her bath. She sighed to herself and blew the fringe away from her forehead.

"How long does it take for them to wrinkle?" she muttered under her breath.

She hummed the soft tune her mother used to sing her to sleep to pass time. She was just about to check on her fingers again when a soft rap came to the door.

A female voice came from the other side, "Elisa, are you finished with your bath?"

Elisa recognized the voice as Korine's, the new maid assigned to her. She took a quick look at her hands once more before answering. "My fingers haven't wrinkled up yet."

"Well, the madam is asking you to come downstairs immediately," the other answered rather impatiently.

"But I told you, my fingers haven't wrinkled up yet!" she answered, unaffected.

"Oh come now, we'll both get into trouble. You know how she gets when she doesn't see her pony for the whole day. I'm coming in now, are you decent?"

"It's not like that would stop you from coming in, now would it?" she said with a pout. Just as she had expected, Korine opened the door, fresh towels at hand. She walked towards the bath tub with short quick steps.

"Now get up from there," she said with a smile.

Elisa obliged and stepped out of the tub. She pleated her arms closer to her torso trying to block cold draft away. Korine quickly wrapped the towel around her and tucked it tightly under her chin. She used a smaller towel to dry her hair.

"Now let's get you into something nice and lovely. We have company," she said.

Elisa furrowed her eyebrows. "Isn't it a bit late for company?"

"It's not as if the madam works around normal hours. She wants you to meet this woman," Korine said as she continued to ruffle her hair.

She looked at Korine thoughtfully, and asked, "What's she like?"

"Well, she looks curious, like most of the Madam's guests. But this one seems rather nice. Something about her eyes tells me so. And the madam was exceptionally cordial to her, so I believe she's someone important," she blathered.

Elisa just nodded, but her head was in a whirl. Luz never asked anyone to meet her. In fact, she made it a point to hide her. Once, Elisa asked her why she'd never let her out of the manor. She could still feel Luz's cold breath on her ear, "Because you're mine, precious, just mine."

Elisa pulled out her hand from within the towel's wrap. She looked at the inside of her arms and observed the red cuts lined up and down her arm's length, like particular and precise cat scratches. The latest one, just above the pulse of her wrist, was already healing. Luz once offered to heal the wounds with magic. "So it won't be painful," she told her. But Elisa refused. She looked straight up at Luz's eyes and said, "Please don't. I need them to remind me, to make me brave the next time."

And now Luz wanted her to meet this woman. But for what reason, she asked herself. She wondered perhaps if the madam was going to share her with this woman. She looked down her arms once more. They didn't make her any braver.

Korine's perky voice interrupted her thoughts, "...and then she went on and on about how short my dress was. I couldn't tell her that this was the mod these days, because of that booming voice of hers. It's awfully unbecoming of such an attractive woman, no wonder she's a spinster! But I don't think she's looking for a husband although with that attitude she never will get one, I tell you. And I think you're all dried up now. Let's get you in your room. That new pink chiffon dress the madam bought for you last week will be just perfect."

Elisa just stared at her. " I suppose so, alright then."

Elisa let Korine lead her out of the bathroom, and inside her room. She sat by her vanity as Korine proceeded to her closet. She looked at her reflection on the mirror. She hasn't changed since the first time she came here a year ago, when she first looked upon this very mirror. Her hair was a darker shade of auburn now, but her dark brown eyes remained as unflustered. Elisa studied her profile sidewise and noted that her nose was rather offset for her heart shaped face. She was a lot paler, but more due to the fact that she's never really out in the sunlight for long, if she ever was out. And probably because of that one other thing.

"Now get up, I'll put this on you," Korine told her, interrupting her thoughts once more. She did as was asked and Korine slipped the undergarments over her head before putting on the pink chiffon dress. Korine made her turn around and buttoned up the dress from the back. She then made Elisa wear the white lace stocking that she had put on the dresser. It made her itch to no end, but she knew there was no point in arguing with Korine. So she obliged, and Korine bent down to help her with her shoes. It was also pink. Elisa wondered if it was possible to die from too much pinkness. Korine went on to fix her hair in plaits and wrapped a pink ribbon around her hair. Apparently not.

Hand in hand, they headed towards the door out of the room. They walked down the hallways. The walls were painted white, just like the walls in the infirmary where she lived for a while before coming here. But the white walls of the infirmary seemed to echo death. These walls were different. There was an element of elegance; light seemed to be emanating from within those walls. It was beautiful. But there was sadness in its beauty she couldn't seem to pinpoint or explain.

She looked up at the ceiling. Each beam had a pair of angels dangling from its arch. They looked very real, and Elisa believed she saw some of them shedding tears just the other night when she was walking towards the library.

Elisa almost forgot about it, but as they turned down the corner, she immediately shut her eyes and squeezed Korine's hand even tighter. They were about to pass the scary picture. Closing her eyes didn't help matters though, as she could clearly see the painting in her head. For nights she couldn't sleep, knowing that the portrait was just a few feet away from her room. It haunted her, the vision of the man nailed to the cross. On the upper corners there were two portraits. One was of a man who wore white robes and red wooden beads around his neck. The other one was of a kind faced old man with a thin moustache whose head hung limply on one side. At first it would appear that he's asleep, but upon close inspection Elisa discovered, much to her horror, the man was not breathing. There was a very thin incision across his neck evidenced with blood; he was dead

"We've passed it," Korine whispered into her ear.

Elisa squinted and recognized the white marble stairs in front of her. "I hate that picture," she told Korine, as she did a million times before.

They descended, both careful not to slip. When they reached the door to the living room, Korine let go of her hand and slid the entrance open.

There were two women; both of the same build, both clad in black, although the other's dress had holes in it, both with the same silken black hair going down the length of their torso, and both engrossed at a certain glowing article in front of them.

Aurora

THUMP

THUMP

THUMP

She tapped her foot impatiently before turning to her sister, "Just how many stairs do they have to pass?"

Luz rolled her eyes and dismissed her sister's query with a wave of her hand. Aurora just gave her a long annoyed sigh before switching her attention to the crystal ball Luz was holding up. They'd been watching the idiot squib's movements for the past quarter of an hour through the eyes of his feline friend. It was pure genius.

"How did you do that Luz?" she finally asked after having thought of it for a while. "You must have used a very complicated spell. I applaud you."

"Well, I didn't exactly use a spell. I just bought this little device that's rather popular among voyeur aficionados. It's very useful," she said her eyes glued to the crystal ball.

Aurora eyed her sister suspiciously, "How exactly do you use this device?"

"Well, you attach it to the person or thing you expect to do the voyeur for you," Luz answered without looking at her.

"You attached it to her neck collar, I hope?"

Aurora waited for an answer, which Luz provided rather quickly.

"Oh heavens no. I tried it, but it's such a horrible angle. And the ball kept flipping around, I had an awful close up of her jollies as I was testing it. It was horrible. I might not be able to sleep tonight."

"Then where did you place it?"

"I placed it on one of her eye sockets."

"And how did you do that?"

"I took out one of her eyeballs."

"You what?!"

"It was the perfect angle," Luz said defensively.

"It's totally barbaric!" Aurora exclaimed.

"Oh please, I was doing her a favor."

"And how exactly are you doing that?!"

"She was a homely and boring cat, but with the glass voyeur ball, she's more interesting. Gives it that added touch," she explained, now looking at her sister.

"What added touch? She's a cat, not furniture!"

"Oh what are you getting your knickers in a twist for? It's not as if it's your cat!"

"You're unbelievable! You're truly evil, you know that?"

"Newsflash: We're trying to take over the world."

"Being cruel to animals is not part of the job description."

"It is so."

"No it's not."

Luz was about to retaliate when a movement in the crystal ball caught her attention. Aurora turned to look as well. The cat had stopped moving. Its eyes moved up and down the door's length. A filthy, non manicured hand reached for the knob and pushed the door open.

There they were, six teenagers forming a half circle around that all too familiar mirror. Aurora watched as the squib raised his arm, pointing her father's Luger right at the redhead's crown.

Aurora unexpectedly grabbed her sister's arm, "Oh no, not him!"

Luz looked at her incredulously. "Why ever not?"

"I thought he was rather charming. Maybe we could save him for later," Aurora smiled sheepishly.

Her sister raised her eyebrows at her. "You're fifty years his senior."

"Don't look at me like that. I caught you looking at that blonde boy's arse earlier," Aurora shot back at her.

Luz merely shrugged. "Oh well, too late."

The first shot was fired.

Harry

The second Harry saw Filch's hand jerk, he immediately lunged at Ron with every intention to keep him out of harm's way, no matter what. But however quick his movements were, he was no match for the speed of a muggle bullet.

The bullet, fortunately and unfortunately, hit Ron's left shoulder. A loud echo of human weight meeting hard stone was heard as he fell forward to the ground. A horrendous shriek of pain resonated down the potions dungeons. Ron clutched his shoulder's exit wound, trying vainly to stop the torrent of blood. His face scrunched in fear as he stared at his hand. the colour of dead roses. Harry had never seen him this frightened, not even when they met Aragog.

Harry felt numb. He felt as if someone had tied his ankles down with cold steel barnacles. He wasn't afraid of blood. He had seen blood before. But never this much. Never flowing from the scorched flesh of his best friend. Never so consequential.

Hermione ran towards Ron, brushing Harry aside as she went. She knelt down beside him and immediately tore the sleeve of her pyjamas. He could hear her mutter fretfully, her voice sounding like it came from under a deep well, "There's so much blood, there's so much blood!"

She struggled with the strip of cloth, positioning it in ways to clog the current of blood. She didn't seem to know what she was doing, but she kept going anyway. "Harry," she said without taking her eyes off Ron, "You have to help me. We have to get him to Madam Pomfrey quickly. The puncture doesn't seem too deep, but I really don't know. It's almost sunrise, so the charm must be wearing off by now."

"What about Filch?" he asked bewilderedly.

"They've got it," Hermione answered impatiently.

It was only then that he turned to look at the doorway. Lavender winked smugly at him as she kicked the head of an unconscious Filch at her feet. He wondered when that happened, how long he had blanked out, how long he just stood there. He didn't even help them. Not that anyone needed help.

"Harry, come on!" Hermione shrieked frantically.

She took Ron by one arm and helped him to his feet. Her robes were bathed in blood, and her finger nails and hands stained deep red. He took a breath and did not let go until he was sure that it wasn't her blood dripping from the cuffs of her pyjamas.

Ron was only half conscious at this point and they wobbled dangerously together. Hermione was about to crash but Justin came just in time, catching them both in his arms.

"I've got Ron," he said rather gaily.

"Thanks." Hermione wasn't looking at the Hufflepuff though. She was looking at Harry strangely, eyebrows knit together.

"I'll carry him. We'll get there much faster that way," Justin suggested as he hunched down and slumped Ron on his back.

Hermione gave him a curt nod before she turned to Harry once again and held his hand. "Come on, Harry." Her hold was one of assurance.

Lavender

There they were, the dastardly dressed Filch and his bloody cat. Seriously, it was a bloody cat. She wondered how Filch did not notice that there was blood splurting out of his cat's eye socket. He didn't seem so aware of what he was doing, or was about to do, but he sure looked determined. Her heart skipped a beat. He was about to...

She heard the first shot. Then she heard a wail much like the wail of an orangutan with a migraine that she ignored. Instead, her eyes travelled down the length of Filch's arms. She squinted her eyes, recognizing the pistol in his hand.

"Ninety seconds," she said to herself.

With catlike grace, she leaped towards Filch. He stumbled backwards, his jaw left agape, startled at the lithe girl's sudden attack. Her heel came in contact with his stretched out wrist as she performed a well aimed roundhouse kick. His gun flew out of his hand and screeched across the cold cement of the floor.

"What in the name of bouncing wiz---?!"

But Lavender did not let him finish as she swiftly let her right hook land on his jaw, knocking him unconscious. He landed at her feet, face first, with a sickening thud. All Mrs. Norris could do was lick the face of her lifeless master.

"Thank God for Kickboxing lessons!"

Parvati came up to her, eyes glued on the beat up Filch snoring on the floor. "Wow, Lavender. I didn't know you could do that. Weren't you even worried he'd shoot you?"

"Not really. I knew I had time."

Parvati looked confused.

"He was carrying a Luger. Old pistol, circa 1900's. Takes about a minute or so to recoil," she continued confidently.

Parvati still looked confused.

"My father is a gun aficionado. I guess some of the things he muttered during dinner stuck," she smiled at her.

At this point Lavender realized that Parvati's natural look was confused.

Justin

For the first time that night, Justin had regretted wearing his five inch platform shoes. He would've been able to move much faster without the makeshift height. As he ran down the length of the corridor towards the infirmary, Ron's blood splattered down the back of his robes like wine from a drunken Irish winer in an Irish winery.

Justin panicked as he felt his robe, which was soaked in cold, coarse liquid, cling to his lower back. Ron could be dying. At this very moment, Ron could be dying as Justin's hands crept up and down his back thigh to protect him from the unforgiving cold air. It could be his last feeling of a warm touch. The last vision he could be seeing was the sterile yellow of his Hufflepuff robes. The last smell he could be smelling was Justin's faint scent of chocolate nougat. The last breath he could be breathing was against Justin's sweat glazed skin.

"Oh my god! That is so Romeo and Juliet!"

"What in heaven's name are you doing?!" said Hermione's screeching voice.

Justin wheeled around to see Hermione, who had fallen on her back and was now being helped up by Harry. He had stopped so abruptly, like a mad shopper who had just spotted a fifty percent price down on leather pants, and was now parked right in front of a gargoyle sculpture, two pillars away from the infirmary's door.

As Hermione stood up and dusted her robes, Justin said to her, "Oh sorry Hermione! I didn't realize I'd knocked you down! It's just that I had an epiphany!" He was grinning like a Cheshire cat with seven blue ribbons. This was almost as exciting as the time he discovered the secret to a tighter arse.

"What?!"

"This is so Romeo and Juliet!"

"What?!"

"Oh, you know! Ron's dying and I'm pretty!"

Hermione was shaking her head so slowly that Justin was sure she had cracked a ligament on her neck and was signaling him in Morse to help her out. "Your robes are draining all of Ron's blood!"

Justin clicked his tongue at her. "Oh the shot couldn't have been less fatal. As my father used to say, very far from the gut," he said with a wink.

Harry, who was blinking as if someone just threw sand into his eyes, seemed to have finally awoken from his reverie. He moved forward and claimed Ron from Justin's shoulder without word, as if he hadn't even heard the earlier exchange. He moved towards the infirmary's door while Hermione stood in front of Justin, still shaking her head.

Justin had his right hand on his hip and leaned on his right heel. "You know, I'd look really good in a virgin white nightie."

Hermione threw up her hands and let out an exasperated "Ugh!" before turning to follow Harry down the hall.

Justin called after her, "Well, I would! I have really shapely thighs you know, well, shapelier than yours anyway."

Draco

It was true. He didn't feel any pain, but it was truly uncomfortable. Like being naked in public. He still hadn't recovered from his last trip going into the mirror. He was certain he'd pass out any moment now. He was beginning to see black, the colour that wasn't all around him. He wasn't aware of time, space or physics, for a very long time or a very short moment. There was just black.

And then he saw red. "Ginny?"

"We're okay now," she said, her voice seemed to come out of a salty throat.

The feeling entered the tip of his toes, creeping up his calves, to his thighs, up his spine, circling his neck, wetting his tongue, stinging his nose, screaming at his ears and pulling open his eyes.

"You don't look so good," she said to him. She was kneeling by his head, her knees damping the outer lobes of his ears like a soft warm washcloth.

"I don't feel so good. Who killed the lights?" he answered so gently he wasn't sure if she heard him.

"Can you move?"

He raised his arm, his palms out, signaling her to just wait for him to recover. She did as was told and just sat there waiting for him to move. After several minutes, he lifted his back and pushed his palm against the rock and dust of the cement floor. The tiny rocks pierced the skin of his palm as if desperately trying to draw blood. When he was finally on his feet, he saw that they made minute crates on his palm that had turned red, looking much like the rash on his cheek that he got that one time he had oyster sauce.

Ginny had already risen from her position. She was staring at him still, her eyes asking if he was alright.

"I'm okay," he told her. She however wasn't, he thought. Her hair was sticking out like loose threads in a spool, and her lips were chapped and dry. "You should get rest and water."

"I think I'll get water first, unless you're trying to kill me," she said, smiling at him for the first time since they met at Flourish and Blotts four years ago.

He grinned but did not say anything.

"You're not trying to kill me, are you?" she said, suddenly suspicious.

"No."

"Okay, just making sure."

Draco took a deep breath. There was something amiss. "Where did everyone go?"

Ginny looked at him, looking very much like a lost cat. "Everyone who?"

"Everyone. Potter, Granger, your brother, his boyfriend...,"

"What?! My brother has a boyfriend?! Percy's here?!"

Draco burst into laughter, although laughter here would mean just one drum like "Ha!" that came and passed so quickly it almost wasn't there. Ginny however continued his beat with a series of giggles that gave Draco an odd sensation in his hip.

"It's a long story. I'm sure they'd tell you if they were present," he said, watching her as she took in long, deep breaths, one hand resting on her chest, trying to recover from the giggling fit that attacked her.

"Why don't you tell me?" she said, looking up at him expectantly.

"No, I'm kind of tired. I want to go to bed and tomorrow...,"

"Of course. Tomorrow, we go back to normal," she said. The rock salts in her throat were back.

Draco couldn't seem to find a fitting goodbye to her. There was nothing to say, so he just started walking. But before he could move two steps away, Ginny's hand shot out and grabbed his arm. He heard her suck in her breath, holding it in for a rather long time.

"What is it?"

She pointed her index finger to the floor. There were several tie dye-like patterns of dark, drying liquid. The patterns shaped into footsteps (that suspiciously resembled platform heels) running towards the door and outside. She said it before he could even process it.

"It's blood"

He nodded.

"It's Ron's blood."

"We don't know that."

She gripped his arm tighter, so tight he momentarily considered that he was having cardiac arrest. "I know it! I can feel it. You know that feeling, when you just know something terrible has happened. There's that pain in your gut and you find it hard to breathe?"

"Actually yes, my nanny had that a lot. Like that one time she was helping me put on my shoes and suddenly she was hyperventilating and was very red with fear. The next day, 'The Kneazles' broke up," he said in one breath. He wasn't sure exactly why he said that, but he thought it might amuse her and take her mind off the blood stains on the floor.

"Are you trying to make a joke?" she asked him, her lips curled like a downward crescent moon, her eyes just about ready to pop tears.

Once more he was at a loss for words. He figured his trademark smirk wouldn't work either.

"Following the footsteps might be a good idea."

She simply nodded, still gripping his arm as if egging him to lead her.

"I suppose you want me to come with you?"

She gave him a smile, although it wasn't a very inviting one. She looked like she had flatulence.

"Right then, let's go."

Hermione

"Madam Pomfrey! Madam Pomfrey!" Hermione shouted as she ran the aisle of the infirmary, the beds passing her like a sea of white light. She saw the shadow of a woman's form behind the yellowing curtain divider.

"Madam Pomfrey! Wake up!" she screamed, running behind the curtain. She found Madam Pomfrey slumped on her desk, still in her day clothes, face hidden behind her circled arms and apparently in deep slumber.

Hermione walked towards the table and shook the nurse's arms with both hands. "Please wake up, please wake up," she muttered under her breath. She looked to her right; the morning sun was now peeking through the opaque glass, making square yard windows of light on the floor. The sun is up, so the spell has got to be worn off by now, she thought.

"Madam Pomfrey, wake up! Please!" Hermione said, shaking her with all her might.

Madam Pomfrey awoke with a jerk, as if someone had just lunged a needle in her spine.

"Oh good, you're awake. Please help us. My friend Ron, he's been shot!" Madam Pomfrey still seemed disoriented, but Hermione didn't think they had the time to wait for her to fully come to.

The nurse blinked at Hermione, as if looking for the right name to address her by. "Shot? With an arrow?"

"No, a gunshot. A gunshot wound to the shoulder!"

Madam Pomfrey was so startled by this that she jumped back in her chair, and it teetered dangerously for a few seconds before balancing itself back. "Gunshot?! Good heavens, how could anyone get a gunshot wound here in Hogwarts?"

Hermione knocked her fists together in frustration. There was no time for questions. "It's a long story!"

"Alright then, where is he?" Madam Pomfrey said. Her hand crept along the surface of her table looking for an empty space to lean on so she could stand up.

"He's there," Hermione said, pointing towards the bed nearest the door where Harry and Justin had laid Ron down. Justin was standing by the foot of the bed, hands clasped in prayer as Harry was kneeling beside Ron, his hand putting pressure on Ron's wound.

Madam Pomfrey rushed towards Ron's direction, her petticoat flurrying after her. Hermione followed suit.

"Oh dear, oh dear," Madam Pomfrey mumbled, "I've never had to deal with a wound caused by muggle weapons. Let's see what the reference books say about this."

She rushed towards the armoire on the opposite side of Ron's bed. She removed the thick iron locks and opened the oak doors to reveal a shelf lined up with books in bright pumpkin colours that were as thin as the nursery rhymes books Hermione's parents bought her when she was but a wee five-year old. Madam Pomfrey pulled one out of the stack, and Hermione read, in big bold letters much like the ones in tabloid prints, "The Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle."

"That's your reference book?" Hermione asked weakly.

Madam Pomfrey looked at her oddly and said, "Why yes, yes it is. I hear it's full of useful information regarding muggle maladies like this. Now let's see here, Martin just got shot by this other man Arjen and now his partner Roger Rurtaugh, who is rather distraught by this, is performing first aid on him."

Justin, who was finished reciting all the prayers he learned from Sunday school, piped up, "That sounds very exciting Madam Pomfrey, do continue! I think Martin and Roger would make a great couple by the way!"

"It actually is very exciting. But I have a wound to clean up and bandages to expend all to be done in a sterile environment and I cannot do this all with you three in here. Out! Out!" Madam Pomfrey exclaimed, shooing Harry, Hermione and Justin with Martin Miggs' adventures in her hand.

The three of them reluctantly passed the wooden doors of the infirmary. Behind them, there was a loud click of metal, which meant that Madam Pomfrey had locked the doors. Hermione bit her lower lip; she could taste the salty sweat coming from just above her chin. Her palms were still drenched in ice-cold sweat. Even though logic told her that it wasn't a fatal wound, that Ron was safe from any more harm, her heart would still not stop pounding.

"Don't worry, he's safe," Harry said behind her. He placed an arm around her shoulder. She could feel it shake like they did when Harry gets cold.

"I know he's safe, but you can't stop me from worrying," she answered. She wrapped both of her arms around his waist, and closing her eyes, buried her head in the nook of his shoulder.

From not so far away, she heard a pair of footsteps, running towards their direction. She opened her eyes to see Lavender and Parvati, approaching them, both out of breath.

"We were lost!" Parvati said first.

"You were lost on the way to the infirmary?" Harry asked her doubtfully.

"Okay I'm lying. We had to go change our clothes. It was getting really sticky and dusty. But we did so hurriedly so we could come down here and ask how Ron was," she finished with a grin on her face. Hermione couldn't help but be amused.

"So how is Ron?" Lavender asked, though her query did not match the gleam in her eyes, which were shining like glazed donuts.

Justin answered, "He's fine. Madam Pomfrey's taking care of him as we speak."

"That's good then," she said.

After a few moments, Peeves, whose orange bowtie was now a somber shade of red (Maybe it's like a moodtie, Hermione thought) bounced towards them.

"Filch is dead!!!!" Peeves wailed, muddy tears coming out of his eyes like a fountain.

"He's not dead. He's just knocked out," Lavender reassured him, "speaking of Filch, what happened to him?"

Justin nodded. "I knew he was a jerk, but I didn't think he was a homicidal jerk."

"I don't think he was himself," Hermione voiced.

"Just the same," Harry said darkly, untangling his fingers in Hermione's hair, "we should go back there and tie him up. In case he decides to shoot students out at night instead of giving them detention."

Everyone agreed with Harry, and all walked back towards the big room with the mirror, except for Justin who wanted to stay and wait for word from Madam Pomfrey and Peeves, who wanted to take down the streamers in the third floor corridor since Filch wasn't dead.

Ginny

"Do you mind letting go of my arm? I'd like to make use of it someday," Draco asked Ginny impatiently.

"But I need to hold onto something when I'm nervous," she pleaded with him.

"Alright, just loosen your hold a bit. I bruise easily," he conceded.

Ginny nodded. They were about to make a move towards the door when Draco shushed her.

"What is it?"

"There's someone in here," he said in a whisper. He motioned towards the far left corner of the room. It was very dark and all Ginny could see was what seemed to be a huge pile of dog poo.

"Who is it?"

"I don't know."

Both their questions were answered when the shadow of cat leaped atop the figure. The frisky fur and the orb the size of a golf ball tied to its collar gave it away.

"Mrs. Norris? What's she doing here?" Ginny asked.

"Where Mrs. Norris is, Filch is there to follow," Draco answered.

"Isn't it the other way around?"

"No, I'm pretty sure Filch is Mrs. Norris' bitch."

"How disturbing."

The figure on the floor seemed to be heaving deep breaths. Draco and Ginny instinctively moved closer together. "I think we should get out of here before he wakes up," Ginny whispered.

Draco nodded and moved closer to the door pulling Ginny along with him. They didn't dare take their eyes off Filch.

"Ginny!"

"Hermione!"

"Ginny!"

Ginny let go of Draco's arm and ran towards Hermione. Hermione flung her arms around, Ginny and she did the same.

Draco smirked as he watched the two girls, "Now that's what we're talking about. Granger, why don't you give Weasley a little kiss?"

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Ginny had only noticed that Harry, as well as Lavender and Parvati, was there.

"You shut up, Potter. You're ruining the moment."

"Both of you shut up," Ginny said without much conviction. She still felt the sting when Draco had called her Weasley.

"Are you alright? Are you hurt? How'd you get back?" Hermione asked her, grabbing her by the shoulders and scanning Ginny's face.

"I'm fine, just exhausted," Ginny said.

"Now that we know she's okay, why don't we tie up Filch to make sure she remains okay," Lavender interrupted.

"Tie up Filch?" Ginny asked.

"Yes, Lavender?" Hermione said.

"Already ahead of you. Accio! Rope!" Lavender summoned. In a matter of seconds, the rope came careening into Lavender's awaiting hand. She and Harry headed for the still unconscious Filch.

"Why're we tying up Filch?" Ginny asked again, still confused.

Draco offered an explanation, "Maybe we're in a dimension where everyone's kinky and indiscriminate."

Hermione ignored him though Ginny could not suppress a guffaw. "Ginny, Filch, shot Ron."

Ginny was stumped. She could feel her heart dropping to her diaphragm. "Ron?! I had forgotten about Ron! Hermione, where is he? He's alive, isn't he?"

Hermione rubbed the sides of her arms to calm her. "Don't worry, he's fine. Madam Pomfrey is taking care of him."

"I have to go to him," Ginny said, tears falling freely now.

"Of course, I'll come with you," Hermione offered.

"No."

"What?"

"I mean, never mind." Ginny had wanted to say that she'd rather Draco come with her, but it wouldn't make sense. She wiped away the tears on her cheek with her sleeves leaving wet dirt stains on them.

"Okay then, come on." Hermione led her outside, holding her hand tightly. Parvati went to her other side and offered her hand as well.

Ginny couldn't see him, but behind her, she knew he followed them quietly.

Ron

He opened his eyes only to discover that his sight seemed to be obscured with hot air. There was pulsating pain in his neck, and his shoulder felt as if it was being burned by iron clamps dipped in fire. He twisted his head to his side. He could see Ginny had fallen asleep on a wooden arm chair, painted white. She was out of harm's way. He was ready to fall back asleep knowing that. Then he saw a blond boy kneeling in front of her. A boy with silvery blond hair.

Please let it be Justin, he thought before passing out again.

Harry

"Where'd Malfoy go?" Harry asked Lavender who was busy tying a sailor knot on Filch's wrists.

"I think he went with Ginny, Hermione and Parvati," she answered, "there, that should do it." She patted the knot affectionately, as if she had just created her obra.

"Why would he do that?" Harry pondered aloud.

"I really don't know Harry, why don't you go ask him," Lavender said as she blew away a fringe blocking her left eye.

"When did you stop being all giggly?" Harry asked.

"That's really tactful of you," she answered with annoyance.

"No, seriously, when did this happen?"

"Right around the time you started spending an hour in the bathroom combing your hair," she said looking straight at him.

Harry blushed, "I really was combing my hair. My hair is hard to tame."

"And Parvati doesn't like pink."

"Are you finished with that knot?"

"Yes, actually, just one more thing." Lavender kicked the top of Filch's head.

"Was that really necessary?"

"He was about to wake up and we can't have that!"

Harry wrinkled his nose. He supposed she was right. He and Lavender walked out of the room and followed Hermione and everyone else.

When they had reached the infirmary, Harry saw that Madam Pomfrey was now outside and talking to Justin, who seemed jolly enough. Ron's probably alright by now, Harry thought. Madam Pomfrey appeared to be in a rush and quickly walked back inside before they could get nearer.

He and Lavender approached the two. Justin waved jovially at them both. "He's fine now! Mr. and Mrs. Weasley are on their way here!"

Harry's heart sank. He wasn't sure how he was going to explain this to them, especially Mrs. Weasley.

"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked.

Justin pointed inside the infirmary. "She's in there with Ginny and Parvati, talking to McGonagall. I have to wait here for Sprout."

"Are we in trouble?" Harry asked nervously.

"I hope not. It's not like we chose for this to happen," Justin said seriously.

"Well, we better go in there, then," Harry said. He walked towards where Hermione and the rest are, Lavender trailing behind him. He noticed that Malfoy was nowhere to be seen.

From his vantage, he could see the vein on McGonagall's forehead almost ready to pop out. She was still wearing her night cap.

"Mister Potter, Miss Brown, I'm glad you two could join us," said McGonagall's unwelcoming voice.

Harry smiled at her sheepishly. He stood behind Hermione, who was sandwiched between Ginny and Parvati. Lavender walked to his side.

"As you may have already heard from the parrot Finch-Fletchley, your friend Mister Weasley is going to be alright. Professor Snape has kindly cooked up a potion to relieve the pain," she told them.

"Professor Snape's here?" Harry asked.

"He's in the Supplies room with Mister Malfoy," she said with a dismissing tone, "I have talked to your fellow students and have learned of the night's events from them. Have you two anything to add?"

Harry and Lavender shook their heads.

"Very well then, Professor Dumbledore shall be speaking with all of you this afternoon when you've all freshened up and had some sleep. I hear it was a very long night," she finished. She looked each of them in the eye as if waiting for them to say something more. When none of them spoke, she turned her heel and walked away.

They all stood in silence before Parvati broke it with an airy yawn. "I think I'm going to get some sleep. I have a feeling we'd be getting a lot of telling off in the next few hours."

"I think you're right, for once," Lavender chimed, stretching her arms and her mouth out like a cat in the morning. "You three coming?"

"I'll stay here," Ginny said, "I have to wait for Mum and Dad to arrive. Harry, Hermione, why don't you two go ahead?"

"I'm not really that sleepy. I want to see Ron when he wakes up," Hermione said.

"Me too," said Harry, "maybe we could go get some breakfast first."

"That sounds good." Hermione smiled at him. "Ginny?"

"No, you two go ahead. I'll stay here."

Harry, Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati said their goodbyes to Ginny before heading out to their own destinations.

Draco

They had been staring at each other for the past quarter of an hour. He didn't understand why he was even there, it wasn't like he was hurt. Not that he ever came when he was.

"So?"

"So what?"

"Draco, don't talk like a little rebel. You know I don't have any tolerance for adolescent angst," Lucius said in that airy, condescending tone of his.

"Why're you here?" Draco asked him, trying to match the aristocracy of his father's voice.

"I heard from Severus that you have met him," his father said. He took his black satin gloves off in an excruciatingly slow manner it made Draco's left eye twitch.

"Yes, I have," Draco answered.

"Well, how is he?"

"Old. And pungent."

"He didn't change much then."

Draco grinned half-heartedly. "Is there a real reason why you're here?"

"I wanted to see if you're alright," Lucius said sincerely.

"I am. Please tell Mother as well," Draco asked him politely and continued, "I would like to be excused father. I'm exhausted and would very much appreciate sleep."

"Do as you please, my son," he said, waving his hand in permission. Draco stood up and walked towards the door. Before he turned the knob, he let his father in on a little secret.

"Oh and Father, I've redeemed your favor for you." He didn't wait for an answer.

Outside the supplies room he passed Ron Weasley's bunk. Ginny was sleeping on a chair at the end of his bed. Her face was clean and free from tears but her hair still stuck out like loose threads in a spool. She shivered slightly; her pink jumper was falling off her shoulder. He kneeled before her and raised it to cover her shoulder, patting it to secure it in place.

"Good night, Ginny."

Ron

The hot air was gone from his vision now. He looked to his right to see if Ginny was still around. The chair was empty. Ron sighed, at least there wasn't a blond boy in sight either. He could hear shuffling on his left, and turned to see Hermione's bushy head slouched on his bed. He reached out to prod her awake.

"Ron! You're awake!" Hermione lunged at him and gave him a tight hug.

"Pain, pain! Arrgghh!"

"Oh I'm so sorry!" Hermione exclaimed, freeing Ron from her embrace.

"Glad you're okay now mate. You've been asleep for five hours," said Harry who appeared behind Hermione.

"Me too. Just keep octopus arms here away from me, and I'll be on the road to full recovery," Ron said.

"I said I'm sorry!"

Ron ignored her. There were other important matters to discuss. "So how long has this been going on?"

Harry and Hermione looked at each other.

"I don't think this is the right time to discuss this," Hermione said. Harry nodded furiously in agreement.

"I don't care, I want to discuss it now," Ron demanded.

"Ron...," Hermione tried to plead with him.

"I'm the one lying on the bed with three hundred yards of bandage on my shoulder! Now tell me, how long has this been going on!"

Harry took a deep breath. "Not even twenty-four hours. We weren't even planning on keeping this from you."

"Right."

"That's the truth, Ron." Hermione said.

"I don't believe you! I bet, I bet this has been going on since...since... we were in first year!"

"What? That's preposterous!"

"That's probably why McGonagall took so many points off Gryffindor back in first year! She caught you snogging in the astronomy tower!"

"Ron, we were eleven!"

"Well, you were too mature for your age even then! You could've easily manipulated Harry!"

"Don't be ridiculous! Tell him Harry!"

Harry, who was deep in thought, voiced, "Well, as I recall, your hand did in fact touch my thigh a couple of times during the night."

Ron, who seemed validated, continued, "And that's why it took you so long to get to me at the Shrieking Shack!"

"You know, she grabbed my arm a lot then too."

"And that's how you were so sure he wasn't a bad kisser, because you've already tried kissing him a couple of times! Oh I could a smell that fish coming from far away!"

Hermione, who had been speechless all this time, stomped her foot on the floor and walked out of the infirmary dragging her feet like they were two huge books, muttering, "You've absolutely gone nutters," under her breath.

Ron tried to suppress his laughter. But Harry couldn't. It didn't take them so long to be laughing together again.

"You didn't really believe everything you just said now, did you?" Harry asked, holding onto his stomach trying to control the sniffles.

Ron shook his head. They smiled at each other. Everything was alright now.

Dumbledore

He sat in his office, staring at the silvery mirror of his pensieve. He leaned back on his chair, hands clasped together in front of his mouth. He thought she had died. He was against her parents' plans for her, but he could do nothing. And as much as he wanted to deny it, he was relieved to know that she was gone.

And now, it seems that she never was gone. Draco, Ron, and Justin had seen her. She retrieved Aurora. He was afraid of what she might do. What she could do. He wished he knew, but at the same time he wished he never would have to. The dawn had arrived.