Harry Potter and the Dark Mark

Chapter Twenty Four

"Let me look! Let me see!" Lavender Brown was squealing to Dean and Seamus. Parvati was hovering at her side giggling like a first year.

"Wait your turn!" Dean yelled, holding the picture up so Lavender could not reach it.

"Thank you," Lee Jordan said as he plucked the picture from Dean's fingers. "Colin and I own this jointly. He took it, I found him the subject material," he announced smugly. The small crowd around him suddenly drifted into uneasy silence as Harry, Ron and Hermione approached through the portrait hole.

"I smell trouble," Ron said under his breath to Harry. "I wonder what Fred and George have done now?"

An uneasy rush swept through Harry. Lee had been messing about this morning, and there had been noises from the fourth year dormitory. Colin was looking distinctly self-satisfied at all the attention he received when everyone discovered he had taken whatever the picture was that Lee had passed to Fred and George. The vague memory of a clicking noise confirmed his suspicions.

"I need to find Ginny," Harry gasped, "Now!" Hermione and Ron stared in surprise as he took off but Fred and George chased after him as he tried frantically to escape out of the portrait hole.

"Oy! Harry! Come back!" Fred bellowed. Well, Harry thought it was Fred. He couldn't be quite sure because he didn't want to waste time looking over his shoulder. He could hear the sounds of squeals and laughter in the Common Room behind him.

"Harry! We're not going to beat you up!" the other twin shouted.

"No, we're going to get Bill and Charlie to!" Fred guffawed.

Harry slowed in wary relief. "Promise you'll not dungbomb me or anything?" he half begged.

"Promise by the head of Henrik the Hairy," Fred swore, waving his hand at the statue in the alcove near him.

They jogged nearer and George slung a friendly arm around Harry's shoulder. "At first we weren't too happy. But Colin was quick to point out that you weren't Malfoy, and she has had a serious crush on you since-"

"Since she saw your beautiful eyes, as green as a fresh pickled toad-"

"And your hair as dark as a blackboard..." The twins promptly regaled him with the whole Singing Valentine twice with great relish. Harry winced and tried to disentangle himself from them. Their gleeful laughter chased him down the corridors.

He finally found Ginny making her way back up from the Great Hall with a group of her friends. She looked startled to see him and ever so slightly embarrassed. It seemed a long time ago that she had been resting against him on the settee.

"Lee, Colin, camera, you, me," he blurted in quick succession. Her eyes widened and she slipped her arm through his before steering him away from her friends.

"Tell me you're joking," she pleaded.

Shaking his head, he told her about the clicking noise and Colin and Lee having a photograph that seemed to involve him somehow. Ginny looked a peculiar mixture of annoyed, upset, worried and pleased all at once. Harry didn't even want to try to guess how she felt.

"Well, we'll just have to go by Fred and George," she decided eventually. "If they don't mind there won't be a bad fuss... I mean there won't be a bad fuss in that they'll beat you up and write to Mum..." She paused reflectively. "They'd better not send any more Valentines," she scowled, stressing the last word with a sarcastic sneer.

"They'd better not..." Harry responded in surprise before he could stop himself.

Ginny's incredulous gaze made him flush with embarrassment. "Surely you didn't think I sent you that hideous thing?" she asked.

"No, no... I was just... agreeing with you..." Harry tailed off lamely.

"Well..." Ginny seemed to forgive him. "I'm sure today will be awful, but then they'll all find something else to talk about."

"S'pose so," Harry agreed gloomily.

It was the evening before Harry saw the photograph. All day it had been passed from Gryffindor to Gryffindor with furtive giggles and hushed whispers. He had been tracking who had it carefully, prepared to snatch it if the opportunity arose. Dean had taken it to Herbology, and then given it to Seamus for Potions. Seamus had lent it to Lavender during History of Magic, and he imagined that she gave it to Parvati for the evening, because he hadn't seen it since.

Ron and Hermione hadn't acknowledged the existence of the photo, for which Harry was extremely grateful to them. Now they were alone in the Common Room, safe at last from the catcalls and bawdy jokes of the rest of the house, preparing to test Harry's Defence against the Dark Arts.

"Make sure there's lots of cushions, Ron," Hermione ordered.

"Hermione, if there were any more cushions on the floor Harry wouldn't land on them. He'd hit the side of them and then land on the floor in a crumpled heap!"

"So after three Harry," Hermione continued, blithely ignoring Ron. "One, two, three... STUPENDO!"

Cringing because he expected to be flung back against the wall Harry cried out, "Contego!" and squeezed his eyes shut. He was pushed backwards gently on to the cushions, but his shield held. Letting it drop, he opened his eyes.

"That wasn't as strong as when you did it against Malfoy," Hermione criticized.

"I didn't really think you'd hurt me. And I wasn't worried," Harry answered as he stood up.

"So there has to be an element of fear," Hermione muttered to herself.

"I wasn't afraid of Malfoy!" Harry shot back hotly.

"Quiet," Hermione scolded. "I can see that you're right. Emotion is stronger than magic, so it makes sense you have to have some form of raw emotion running through you to enhance the magic."

"Try a stronger curse. One that's more painful if he gets it wrong," Ron suggested. He flipped through the Dark Arts textbook and tapped a page. "Here, try this," he said to Hermione as he passed her the book. She passed him Harry's Defence against the Dark Arts book and took the textbook from Ron. After a minute of careful scrutiny she put it down, adjusted her sleeves and prepared to aim at Harry again. The look of determination in her face alarmed him slightly.

"What's the curse?" he asked.

"You don't want to know," Hermione advised him gravely. She looked at Ron. "This had better not work," she warned him. "I'll be sick if it does."

"Shut up! You're having me on," Harry exclaimed.

"Excorio," Hermione said after a slight pause.

Harry watched in trepidation as small peach flowers bloomed from the end of Hermione's wand. The petals looked spiky and had red tips. Ugly and threatening, they glowed with sickly light and flew towards Harry. Troubled, he put his shield up and prayed that it held. Hermione looked afraid. Ron looked less confident than he had sounded seconds earlier. The flowers hit the edge of the shield and flickered out like dying shooting stars with the same orange glow that heralds the rise of the northern sun.

"It held," Hermione gasped, flopping back into an armchair with relief.

"Knew it would," Ron said stoutly, regaining some of his colour.

"What was it?" Harry asked, warily checking for any more flowers before letting the shield drop. "What were those things?"

"That was the Skinning Curse," Hermione said. To Harry's surprise, she didn't begin her usual encyclopaedic recital of every fact she knew about the curse.

"You mean it would have taken my skin off?" Harry asked in revulsion.

Hermione shivered slightly. "Yes - it's a disgusting curse. But you need to have real emotion running through you to make the shield work. You can't make one without the desire to protect someone or something. I needed to make you afraid."

"What time is it?" Ron asked as he fumbled in his dressing gown pocket.

"Half past midnight," Harry answered sleepily. He was desperate to speak to Sirius. He did not mind Hermione and Ron being with him, because they knew as many pieces of the puzzle as he did and Hermione would be quicker to pick clues off Sirius anyway.

Ron slid into Hermione's seat and snuggled up next to her. Harry collapsed on to the cushions that had been laid out on the floor and lolled there. He was angry with himself for being afraid of Hermione's curse when he hadn't even known what it was. He shouldn't have been so worried. A sudden pop in the fireplace and a flare of green flame pushed his discontent away. Rolling over to the fireplace he narrowly avoided being crushed by Ron and Hermione as they leapt forwards to crouch opposite the head that protruded from the flames.

The sight of Sirius' head calmed Harry down and unnerved him at the same time. He was so glad to see Sirius that it hurt. Sirius appeared healthy and alert but he also kept looking over his shoulder as if he thought someone might barge in on him.

"Sirius!" Harry choked, realising for the first time just how much he had missed his godfather.

"Hello, you three," Sirius said, the crackling of the flames creeping into his voice. "There's a lot I have to tell you."

'And a lot more not to mention,' Harry thought cynically as Ron and Hermione greeted Sirius. Nevertheless, he made himself comfortable for the long talk ahead. He knew from the lines on his godfather's brow and his nervous demeanour that things were certainly far from alright.