Harry Potter and the Dark Mark

Chapter Twenty-Three

A odd clicking noise woke Harry up. He didn't open his eyes at first because he was trying to work out what felt strange. Something was tickling his neck. It was very gentle, so much so that he could hardly feel it. His arm felt dead. He groaned slightly because something bright was shining on his face and something heavy was pressing against his chest. He began to move into a more comfortable position.

"Don't, I'm comfy," someone muttered close to his ear. Squinting in the sunbeams that illuminated Ginny's red hair, Harry worked out that she was the weight on his chest, the reason he couldn't feel his arm and that it was her breath that was tickling his neck. She was what felt strange. It wasn't a bad strange though. It was just unusual and slightly alarming to find Ginny this close to him after months of arguments.

"I have to. Dead arm," he told her. She frowned lightly, the tip of her nose wrinkling and creasing. Harry was captivated by her freckles.

"Aye aye, what's been going on here then?" Lee Jordan yelled from the staircase. "Gred! Forge! Your sister's been up to some hanky panky with that no good Harry Potter!" It was clear that Fred and George weren't too bothered, because no one came down to see what Lee was talking about.

"What time is it?" Harry asked, his voice croaky from sleep. Ginny shifted to look at her watch and managed to elbow Harry in the ribs as she did so. "Oof!" he grunted.

"Sorry. It's... only five o' clock! What the hell was Lee doing up at this ungodly hour?" Ginny shot a disgusted look towards the stairs to the boys' dormitories.

"No wonder your brothers didn't come running," Harry said. As he spoke there was a muffled thud from the stairs, as if someone had tripped up. A swearword was hurriedly cut short and the sound of retreating footsteps dwindled into expectant silence.

"The lazy sods never stir before eight. At home they'd sleep 'til ten if Mum would let them. Probably because they spend all night doing experiments in their room."

"Yeah, that explode and wake everyone up," Harry added absently, trying to think who would be creeping about and why. He noticed that Ginny was blushing. He reddened too, realising that he had been thinking of the night they had kissed.

"Harry, I-"

"I'm right in thinking you were the one who called after me and followed me into the Trophy Room that time I met Cho, aren't I?"

Ginny looked away before meeting his questioning look. "Yes."

"That's why you thought I was more than friends with her?"

"Ye-es..."

"I never was, you know," Harry reassured her.

"Really?" Ginny looked him straight in the eyes. As he shook his head emphatically he marvelled at the colour of her eyes. They were such a rich brown, like Honeyduke's best chocolate. He had looked at his own eyes in the mirror before, trying to catch a glimpse of his mother, and he knew that the green was flecked with whorls of colour. Ginny's eyes were...

"We ought to get changed really. Into our pyjamas or something, or they'll all tease us mercilessly forever," Ginny was saying. Harry refocused on her face.

"Lee's already seen us," he recalled.

"Yes but if I'm seen to wake up in my bed at the normal time and Ron sees you get out of your bed at the usual time then they'll think Lee was dreaming," she explained.

Harry smiled at her brilliance. They stood up, suddenly awkward and unsure. Harry played with his fingers, watching Ginny flick the corner of the hearthrug with her foot.

"Good night," he said eventually as he made his way towards the spiral staircase.

"Good morning, you mean," Ginny corrected him.

As he climbed the stairs he heard a door slam at his approach. Mystified, he listened and worked out that there were whisperings coming from the other side of the fourth year dormitory. He smiled to himself. As long as Lee was back in bed, Harry didn't mind the fourth years running around. He was lucky none of them had seen him dressed. At last he reached his dormitory. The deep and peaceful breaths of Ron and the others assured him they were asleep and so rapidly he changed into his pyjamas and slid between the sheets of his bed.

Curling up for warmth he finally worked out the colour of Ginny's eyes - horseback brown. Pleasant thoughts filled his mind in that hour between wake and sleep only to be lost when Ron shook him awake.

Soon they were waiting for Hermione to join them in the Common Room. They were sitting in the very settee Harry had slept on that night. He was remembering the feel of Ginny's breath on his neck when Ron interrupted him with a sudden notion.

"Why does it take girls so long to get ready?"

"Because they're worth waiting for," Hermione cut in smugly. Ron jumped up guiltily.

"Ah, Hermione, didn't see you there!"

"Obviously," she smirked. Harry smiled at her and let them lead the way to breakfast.

As they were eating their sausages and bacon, Hermione continued to coach them in Defence Against the Dark Arts. She recited passages about Shielding Charms in a low voice. Lavender leaned over to listen, thinking she was telling them some juicy piece of gossip, but upon discovery of the subject she gave them a disgusted look and turned back to flick her hair and simper at Seamus.

"This is all well and good, but we need to practise," Ron mumbled.

"When though?" Harry asked. He helped himself to more sausages. Glancing down the table he caught Ginny's eye. She took one look at the sausages in his hands and smiled quietly to herself and then at Harry. Harry smiled back and dropped the sausages onto his plate.

"Well," Hermione said bossily, bringing Harry back into the conversation, "we might try tonight in the Common Room. Stay up late until everyone has gone to bed."

"Sounds good to me," Ron agreed quickly.

"Fine," Harry said. The matter appeared settled. The Post arrived with the flutter of wings and screech of Owls that marked it every morning. Not expecting anything, Harry continued clearing his plate of food. Hermione's Daily Prophet was delivered by a Barn Owl that vanished after pinching a sliver of bacon off Ron's plate. Something dropped on Harry's head, startling him. Ron laughed and passed him the letter.

"Open it!" Hermione demanded impatiently.

Harry was more concerned with Hedwig. He offered her a piece of toast and let her nibble his ear. "There you go," he crooned to her. She looked back at him with her huge amber eyes and then took off to the Owlery in a flutter of white wings.

Only then did Harry switch his attention to the letter. He wiped his greasy fingers on his trousers, ignored Hermione's look of distaste, and opened it. It was, to his surprise, a letter from Sirius. He scanned the contents briefly and then passed it to Ron who held it out so Hermione could read too. The letter read;

"Dear Harry,

Something is not right. Things not good. Read the Daily Prophet. Be in the Common Room tonight at One. I will speak to you as last year.

Snuffles."

Hermione made a noise of impatience. "Could he be any more vague?" she snorted in annoyance. Ron patted her on the back.

"He can't be too specific," He reminded her. She nodded.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked in agitation. In the few minutes since the Post had arrived, the mood in the Great Hall had darkened somewhat. In a flash of understanding he grabbed the Daily Prophet and unrolled the scroll.

"DARK MARK DOUBLE ATTACK!

Last night simultaneous attacks were launched on the Ministry of Magic and on the port of Stavanger in Norway. The attack on our Ministry was prevented from wreaking havoc by the Head of the Department of Mysteries. This individual (whose identity is a mystery) was able to deliver important intelligence to the Minister of Magic himself, Cornelius Fudge. The inhabitants of Stavanger, a Muggle port, were not so lucky however.

Nearly twenty Muggle houses were destroyed by Dark Magic, and there were unconfirmed numbers of Muggle deaths. The Røkesild Road and the Sandvigå Docks it ran alongside were also reduced to mere rubble, seriously hampering rescue attempts and aid from other countries.

Obliviators are working overtime to deal with the Muggle witnesses and erase the image of the Dark Mark from their minds. While the Muggles of our country and Norway are being informed that two unconnected gas explosions were the cause of these calamities, it is clear to any Witch or Wizard who is to blame. Cornelius Fudge was able to offer these words to the Prophet;

'While it is fortunate that the Ministry was saved from further damage by ourepartment of Mysteries, it devastates the Wizarding community that He Who Must Not Be Named is carrying out these attacks in the Muggle world. Our hearts and prayers go out to them. Meanwhile our Aurors are doing their best to track He Who Must Not Be Named and his followers.'

It seems that the Minister is finally acknowledging the return of He Who Must Not Be Named and acting upon intelligence reports. Perhaps the destruction of the Department of International Magical Cooperation has finally convinced the Minister of the truth.

The Department of Magical Catastrophes is dealing with both incidents and the International Confederation of Wizards has called an immediate assembly to discuss matters. In the meantime it seems all the general public have to do is wait."

"Bloody hell!" Ron spluttered. His face was ashen. "If they hadn't known, my Dad and Percy..." he trailed off in horror.

The hushed whispers throughout the hall echoed his unspoken fears. Silently Ron joined Fred, George and Ginny at the other side of the table and began muttering with them. The noisy arrival of Errol knocking over a jug of Pumpkin Juice seemed almost irreverent the students and teachers were so quiet. Ron snatched the letter from Errol and unfurled it, poring over it with his siblings. They all breathed visible sighs of relief.

"They're alright! They're safe!" Ginny cried softly. Harry and Hermione relaxed somewhat. Harry wasn't sure that he would have been able to cope with more of his close friends suffering at the hands of Voldemort.

All day Harry was itching for night to descend. He wanted to learn to produce good shielding charms, and more than that, he wanted to talk to Sirius and find out what exactly had gone wrong.