The Greatest Kind of Magic

19. Alone Together

Liam read over his letter one more time. He had written it in haste, and now he was running late for the DA meeting.

Dear Jess,

Well, I gotta say, it's been a hellish couple of weeks. It's been a hellish couple of months, come to think of it. That's the thing - all this magic - it doesn't make life easier, or more fun, or more... well, magical. So much of it is just as mundane as anything in your life, even more so. And some of it - sometimes it's BAD. I'm telling you, Jess - if you knew how much it can hurt, how much it can screw you up... And it can't fix you, either, it doesn't heal, or even help - not on its own. That's what I'm realising more and more now. Magic - magic comes from people, and it's the people that are important, not the magic. Do you know what I mean? If you've got friends around you - that's the best thing you can have, that's better than any magic.

Liam read the first paragraph again, afraid that he'd written the wrong thing. He'd almost made up his mind to scribble it out and write a neutral letter, with no mention of Hogwarts or magic or healing. But he knew that he wouldn't help Jessie by tiptoeing around the subject and not being honest. In fact, it would be an insult to her.

Liam read on.

Anyway. School's back and I'm drowning in homework already. I did bugger all in the holidays and I'm paying for it now. I have a gazillion essays to write. All the Professors are breathing down my neck, because I'm still a bit behind. Ginny's been helping me a lot, but she can't very well write my essays for me (wish she could!).

Again, Liam thought of re-writing, of not mentioning classes or Ginny. Again, he forced himself to leave the letter as it was. I won't do her any favours by being dishonest. He was already leaving a lot of stuff out, deliberately making sure to only mention essays and not spells, deliberately restraining himself from telling Jessie all about Ginny and just what she meant to him. Not that I could explain that, anyway.

His eyes travelled to the bottom of the page.

Say hi to Davey and Sarah for me, tell them I'll write them on the weekend. Give Davey a kick up the arse for not writing to me. Oh and good luck on that History test.

Cheers,

Liam

Satisfied, Liam folded up the parchment and stuffed it into an envelope addressed to his mother. He wrote her a short note, telling her the letter was for Jessie and promising to write on the weekend. He felt a little bit guilty for using his mother as a post office, but he figured he could make up for it by writing her a long letter when he had more time.

"I'm just gonna go post this," he said to Ginny, who was waiting by the portrait hole. She was tapping her foot impatiently.

"Well, hurry up, we're already late."

Liam grinned. "Come on, you know it'll be at least five minutes before Harry manages to speak over the crowd. Probably only after Ron yells 'Oi! Listen up!'"

"Don't be mean," Ginny scolded. "It's not Harry's fault."

Liam rolled his eyes. "My most abject apologies, your Majesty. Thou art both wise and fair." He bowed.

Ginny laughed and gave him a light shove towards the portrait hole. "Away with you, peasant."

Liam stepped out into the corridor. "You go ahead to the meeting," he said. "I'll be quick."

Ginny nodded and set off. Liam jogged to the Owlery, selecting an owl at random to deliver his letter. By then he was embarrassingly late, and he sprinted to the Room of Requirement. When he arrived, he was red-faced and puffing. The meeting was well underway. Evidently, Ron had already silenced the crowd. Harry was speaking.

"...We know the Slytherins are up to something, and we really need to know what it is. I mean, anything you overhear might be useful. Chance remark, whatever."

"Are you saying we have to spy on them?" asked Padma Patil. "Like... listen in on their conversations and stuff?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Does that bother you?"

The students exchanged glances, and Liam heard a few yell out "No!" with snorts of laughter.

"Any Boots yet?" he whispered to Ginny, referring to the habit of some people - usually Terry Boot or Zacharias Smith - to make snide comments and disrupt the meetings.

"No," she said. "But I'm betting on five before we get to practicing spells."

Liam grinned. "I'm betting ten. It's been a while, they've had all holidays to practice being prats."

On cue, Zacharias Smith said sarcastically, "Yeah, right, we'll just hang around the Slytherins waiting for them to say where the next Death Eater attack's gonna be. That'll work great, that will."

"There's one," said Ginny quietly, so only Liam could hear. Liam nodded, still grinning.

Ron glared at Smith. "Since you mention it, Smith, we have thought of that. You heard of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?" Ron said the name with a look of pride. "Well, Fred and George have sent us some new Extendable Ears. They're not selling them yet, but we can use them. In fact, they want us to test them." He smiled triumphantly, looking at Smith with an expression that said, "Shove that up your arse, Smith."

"How do they work, Ron?" asked Neville Longbottom. "Are they like the ones they were selling last year?"

"Um." Ron blushed. "Well..." It was as if he suddenly realised he was speaking to a crowd, and all his confidence evaporated. "Um. Like the old ones, yeah. Here..." He reached into his pocket and took out what looked like a pair of buttons, one red, one green. He tossed Neville the green one. "If you put that to your ear, you should be able to hear anything that's said near the red one. Even if it's really quiet."

"I think I just heard you stomach rumble," said Neville. Everybody laughed.

"Well," said Ron, with a nervous grin. "Guess we know they work..."

Hermione waved her hands to grab everyone's attention. "We have to think very carefully about how we're going to use them. And we have to keep them completely secret. If the teachers find out about them..." She frowned. "Well, I doubt they'd approve," she finished, sounding uncomfortable. Liam was willing to bet she was having a serious inner struggle. On the one hand, she didn't want to break rules. On the other, she knew that spying on the Slytherins could be very useful indeed.

Liam had no qualms about bugging the Slytherins, and he was sure no one else did, either. Around the room, people started chatting excitedly, yelling out ideas.

"How many do we have?"

"We can stick one in Malfoy's bag!"

"How about we stick one up his..."

"Maybe we can put one in Snape's office!"

"If we could plant one in the Slytherin Common Room..."

Ginny leaned over and whispered in Liam's ear, "Not a bad idea, that one. Don't know how we'd be able to pull it off, though..."

Up on the stage, Harry and Ron were grinning and Hermione was frowning. When the noise died down, however, she stepped forward and spoke in a brisk, business-like manner.

"All right, let's figure this out. Anyone who has a class with the Slytherins, I want you to draw a map of the classroom, showing me exactly where everyone's sitting. And I want suggestions about which Slytherins you think we should bug. We only have a few of these Ears, so we really need to prioritise..."

***

On Thursday night after the start of the new term, Professor Snape came into the Slytherin common room. The students who were sitting up late were surprised and curious. Their Head of House never made visits to their dungeon without a very pressing reason. The last time it had been because several students were found inexplicably floating under the ceilings of their dormitories.

Snape, however, was in no mood to satisfy curiosity. Without so much as a word of explanation, he began reading out a list of names.

"Goyle, Nott, Parkinson, Leighton, Zabini, Bauer, Crabbe, Malfoy, Ellison, Taylor..."

It didn't escape anybody's attention that the names he read out were of those very floating students who had been the reason for his last visit. When he finished reading out the list, Snape ordered all those students to be found and brought down to the common room. When they were assembled - some in their pyjamas - Snape curtly said, "Follow me," and left the dungeon.

The students trailed after him, exchanging glances. There was no question of what this was about - they knew they'd been found out, and that punishment was imminent. Caroline Taylor, the youngest of the group, began to whimper softly. No one attempted to comfort her. "Do stop that, Miss Taylor," said Snape without turning his head. The little girl forced herself to keep silent, but tears continued coursing down her cheeks. One of the older girls sneered in disgust.

It came as quite a surprise to all of them when Snape led them not deeper into the dungeons, as they'd expected, but up the stairs and into the corridor leading to the Hufflepuff common room. He stopped beside a painting of a bowl of fruit and tickled one of the pears. The pear giggled, and the painting swung aside, revealing - of all places - the school kitchens.

Puzzled, the students trooped inside. "What..." Malfoy began, but Snape cut him off.

"Silence, Malfoy. You are here to listen."

It was then that they noticed Dumbledore, who was talking quietly to a small group of house-elves at the far end of the room. When he saw that Snape and the students had arrived, he walked over to them slowly, motioning for the house-elves to follow him.

He looked over at them all before speaking, his gaze lingering on little Caroline. The small girl had stopped crying now, having decided that perhaps the near future did not hold expulsion or decapitation. The older students, however, were still suspicious. If possible, even more so. There was something foreboding about being taken to the kitchens at eleven o'clock in the evening.

"You all know why you're here," Dumbledore began, his quiet voice somehow managing to carry over the noise of the bustling house-elves. "All of you have taken part in a serious crime, and all of you, by rights, deserve expulsion from this school and even a sentence in Azkaban."

Caroline began to whimper again, and Dumbledore turned his gaze on her as he continued to speak. "However," he said, "I do not believe that is a good course of action. Expelling you will achieve very little - and this school has lost far too many students already to fear and ignorance and even death."

If he felt any anger as he said that last word, he didn't show it. All that could be read from his face and his voice was a profound, aching sadness. The Slytherins shifted uncomfortably, most wondering just how much he knew. And some - in fact, more than any of them realised - were feeling pangs of doubt and guilt. It wasn't the first time they'd felt that way, and it wouldn't be the last time, either.

But by far the strongest emotion in the kitchens was fear - fear for what would happen to them now, and in particular, fear of what would happen when their parents found out. Not about what they'd done - because all these students knew their parents would have approved - but about getting caught. Getting caught didn't just put them in danger, it put others in danger, too. Getting caught meant that something had slipped, and if one thing slipped, so could everything else.

What if Dumbledore finds out where the orders are coming from?

"What are you gonna do to us?" Caroline burst out.

"Shut up, Taylor!" muttered the third-year girl who had sneered at her earlier.

"I suggest you keep quiet, Miss Ellison," said Professor Snape in the voice he normally reserved for misbehaving Gryffindors. He turned to Dumbledore. "Please continue, Headmaster."

Dumbledore looked at the Slytherins solemnly. "I cannot control what you are taught when you are outside this school," he said. "But as long as you are within these walls, it is my duty to teach you not only magic, but tolerance and respect for your fellow students." He paused and sighed. "And what you have done to Mister Grady goes beyond mere intolerance, it goes beyond bullying. It was an unprovoked, violent assault. Outside these walls, it is a crime that would warrant your arrest. If you are capable of such an act, you are not only a criminal, you are a dangerous criminal."

Some of the students opened their mouths to protest, but Dumbledore cut them short. "There is no use denying it. You know very well why you are here and what you have done. Even those of you who merely stood by and watched are guilty, just as guilty as those who took part." He paused again. Something in his expression seemed to soften. "But I am not going to expel you."

Some students breathed audible sighs of relief. Most, however, remained silent, knowing there was more coming, knowing they weren't off the hook.

"However," the Headmaster continued, "I am going to make sure that you are not only punished, but that you will have little chance to harm one of your fellow students again."

The Slytherins waited apprehensively for their sentence.

"You will all receive detention."

A stunned silence fell over the Hogwarts kitchens. And then somebody snorted with laughter. It was hushed up immediately, but it had been enough to draw the gaze of Professor Snape. "Do you find something about this humorous, Miss Parkinson?"

Pansy Parkinson shook her head, but it was obvious she was stifling a fit of giggles. The others could see what was funny, though they were sure there was some catch. Surely after all his talk of dangerous criminals and assault, Dumbledore wasn't just going to let them off with a detention?

He didn't.

"Your detention," he said, looking at Pansy reproachfully, "will last until the end of the school year. Each day, you will report here to the kitchens after your lessons. You will work until dinner, then you will have an hour off before going back to work until curfew. You will not be forced to work on the weekends. However, you will be confined to your common room, both then and after curfew on weeknights. You can use your spare time to complete your homework."

The Slytherins began muttering, but Dumbledore wasn't finished. "To ensure that all work is completed properly, and that none of you feel you can... escape your duties," he said, knowing too well the cunning of Slytherin minds, "your detentions will be supervised..." he paused, his mouth twitching slightly in the corners, "...by the house-elves."

"What?" gasped Malfoy, forgetting for a moment that he could no longer complain to his father about his mistreatment. "You want us to work... for house-elves?"

"Any of you who wish to complain about the arrangements," said Dumbledore calmly, "might do well to remember that were you not within these walls, you would be on your way to prison. Even those of you too young for Azkaban would be in for a very miserable time indeed. The house-elves will not harm you in any permanent way. However, they have been given orders to do whatever is necessary to ensure that you do your work. And I might remind you that their magic, while different from ours, is no less powerful."

The mutters continued, but the Slytherins knew there was no escape, except to leave the school - and that was no escape at all.

It was Blaise Zabini who asked the question that was bound to spring to all their minds sooner or later. "Professor... Is that all? I mean... did you... write to our parents?"

The others quietened down to listen. This was the all-important question.

"No, Mr Zabini, I did not. Though you are free, of course, to write to them yourself."

He knew very well that none of them would. And they knew they were truly caught. There was no way out of their predicament except to serve their punishment in silence, and hope against hope that their attack on an innocent student would have no other consequences.

***

Jeremy had been silent throughout their trip to the kitchens and Dumbledore's announcement of their sentence. He'd expected no less, and he was prepared to do the detention, hard as it was. But he knew this wasn't the end of it for him, not by far. Questions would be asked, and it would only be a matter of time before somebody figured out who had given them all away.

The fear, the old fear that he'd thought he'd beaten - it was back, stalking him as they followed Snape back to their common room. His heart beat faster as they descended the dungeon stairs. Every step was bringing him closer to his doom. As soon as Snape was out of sight, the questions would begin.

Think, Leighton, think! What were his options?

Deny everything. They can't prove it. No, that was no good. They wouldn't need to prove it. Suspicion was more than enough.

He was dragging his steps now, his frantic mind searching for escape.

The other extreme, then. Come clean. Tell them straight away it was you. But that wasn't any good, either. Slytherins didn't reward honesty.

Too soon, they were filing into the common room. Jeremy was last in, his heart pounding. This is it, oh hell, he's gonna leave and it'll just be me and them, and it's only a matter of time...

"None of you will be able to leave the Slytherin dungeon unless I or another professor let you out," said Snape loudly. "The door will not open for any of you." He paused, making sure all the punished students had taken this in. "Good night," he said.

Then he was gone, the door shutting behind him with an ominous bang.

Jeremy was alone.

The common room erupted with questions. It seemed the entire house was awake - those who'd been in bed when Snape had arrived had been roused and were now waiting in breathless anticipation.

"What happened?"

"Are you expelled?"

"Did they find out about Hogsmeade?"

"Did they..."

Malfoy looked them over with disdain. "Quiet!" he commanded, and immediately, the room fell silent. "We are not expelled, and they did not find out about Hogsmeade - though if any of you mention that out loud ever again, you'll wish they'd thrown you in Azkaban."

Coming from Malfoy, that was no empty threat.

"They found out about Grady," he continued. "For whatever good that'll do."

"What do you mean?" asked Pansy Parkinson. She was one of the few people who could interrupt Malfoy and get away with it.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow and smiled maliciously. "I mean that Grady will get what's coming to him. He's out of our hands now. What worries me a lot more now, is how did Dumbledore find out not only what we did, but precisely who did it?" He surveyed the assembled Slytherins menacingly. Jeremy shrank back in terror.

"I mean, let's face it..." - Malfoy's voice took on a quiet, dangerous quality - "...even if Grady regained his memory, there's no way he could remember all of us. He was hardly in a state to be taking notes." He sniggered.

A hush fell over the Slytherins. Jeremy tried to make himself invisible. Any second now... any second, they'll realise what all this means.

Someone snitched.

Then they'll figure it out, they'll know it was me... and Malfoy, he'll kill me. He'll KILL me!

"I reckon..." said Kenneth Bauer, and hesitated.

Jeremy's heart caught in his throat.

"Yes, Bauer?" said Malfoy, eyebrow raised.

"I reckon," Bauer said, somewhat more confidently, "they've known all along."

Jeremy dug his nails into the palms of his hands. Is he...?

"How, Bauer?"

"The levitation thing," said Bauer calmly. "I mean, it's pretty logical. Grady gets attacked overnight, and in the morning, a whole bunch of Slytherins are floating under the ceiling, completely still and not a peep out of them. Pretty big clue, don't you think?"

Jeremy risked a glance at the other students. He saw a few of them nodding, some even smiling a little.

Bauer seemed to notice it too, and he went on, emboldened. "And they know exactly who was levitating, because Snape, McGonagall and Flitwick had to get us down. And it obviously wasn't a normal spell, either. If it had been, it would've taken them seconds, but you all remember how long it took. I was nearly mental by the time I could move again." He shuddered noticeably.

Jeremy saw a few of the others wince. This is amazing. They're buying it - they're actually buying it! Hope flooded his senses. He unclenched his fists and took a deep breath. Bauer had spoken with such certainty, his theory seemed entirely plausible. And to Jeremy's even greater surprise, the others were picking up from where Bauer left off.

"Of course!" exclaimed Zabini. "Grady can do that whatchama-call-it. Rogue magic. I mean, he's the only one who can. The first years sometimes make stuff explode, but he's the only one who can do major stuff. And if normal spells don't work against it, well, it couldn't be anything else, could it?"

"Yeah!" said Theodore Nott excitedly. "And of course, the professors all know about it, 'cause remember that time he made Malfoy's potion come alive?"

A few of the sixth-years giggled. Jeremy hadn't heard this story, but it seemed a blessing to him. The Slytherins were laughing now and chattering excitedly. Jeremy could hardly believe it - hadn't they just been handed the worst punishment in the history of Hogwarts? Weren't they now in the worst of the school's bad books - not to mention Voldemort's, if he ever found out about their slip-up?

And suddenly, Jeremy understood.

They're all just as scared as I am! They all know that Malfoy can pin it on anyone he wants, and they're afraid it'll be them!

Jeremy glanced at Malfoy.

Malfoy's face was a mask of barely-controlled fury. "If they knew about it for so long," he said, "how come they waited until now to punish us?"

The room quietened again and the smiles disappeared. Jeremy bit his lip, realising that he was back in danger, that he wasn't off the hook. But - and this gave him some courage - everybody else was thinking the same thing. For the first time since arriving at Hogwarts, Jeremy realised that he wasn't alone in his house. Or rather, everybody else was just as alone as him.

And that means we're all alone together. It didn't make sense, but it helped. In some small way, it helped a great deal.

"It's obvious why they waited," said Bauer, breaking the silence. "If they'd punished us before the holidays, we wouldn't have come back. We'd have found some excuse, some way to wiggle out of going back. I mean," he looked around for support, "we are Slytherins."

"And why," said Malfoy coldly, "would they want us to come back?"

Bauer shrugged. "It's obvious, isn't it?" He glanced over the others again.

Jeremy could see that they were all looking at Bauer intently. Come on, Bauer. Get us out of this. We're counting on you. Jeremy could almost hear the mental chorus.

"They want us on their side," said Bauer in a tone most people normally used to explain things to small children, or to Crabbe and Goyle. "That's why they didn't expel us now. They think that as long as they can keep us here, they can bring us over." He gave a smirk that could easily have matched Malfoy's. "Like they have a chance."

And the common room erupted in cheers, laughter and outraged yells.

"Get us on their side? Bollocks to that!"

"Good luck to them!"

"Who do they take us for?"

"Just like Dumbledore, though. He reckons we're all just dying to be saved, you know?"

"Or to kiss Potter's arse, more like."

High on relief, they were practically dancing. Jeremy watched them all in a daze, not daring to believe his luck. It's amazing. They're all so terrified of Malfoy, they're actually convincing themselves this story's true. It's like a mutiny. There's no way he can contradict them now, they won't hear of it. Bauer, you bloody genius.

In the centre of it all, Malfoy stood alone. The shutters had come down over his face, and his expression was unreadable. He looked at Jeremy, drilling him with his eyes. And Jeremy, for the first time ever, looked back without fear and grinned. "Dumbledore must be delusional!" he said.

Malfoy held his gaze for a few more seconds, and then whirled around and strode away. Crabbe and Goyle trudged after him, though Jeremy noticed them both looking back over their shoulders, as if regretting being dragged away from the party.

It didn't last much longer, anyway. After a few minutes, Nott remembered the reason they were all in this state in the first place. "Hey," he said loudly, "this slave labour thing. Does it start tomorrow?"

The punished students suddenly remembered what was awaiting them in the morning. Jeremy could almost see the high spirits deflating. "Come on," said Bauer, coming up behind him. "We'd better get some sleep."

"Hey," said Samuel Wong as they started for the dormitories. "Bad luck getting busted and all."

Bauer shrugged. "We knew what we were risking. Hey, lucky this is all they found out about. Would've been worse if they'd caught on to the Hogsmeade thing."

Wong grinned. "Don't let Malfoy hear you say that."

Bauer put a finger to his lips and winked. "I'll be fine if you keep your mouth shut."

Jeremy followed Bauer up to their dormitory. They were the only fifth year boys involved in the Grady ambush, so when they got there, the room was empty. Obviously, the others still wanted to stay up.

Jeremy didn't mind. He was off the hook. He'd be in detention for the rest of the term, but that was nothing, that was just work. The important thing was that he wasn't being blamed for snitching, and Malfoy couldn't hurt him now. Jeremy flopped down on his bed, feeling lighter than he had in months. It's gonna be okay, he thought. It's all gonna be okay...

"A thank you would be appreciated, Leighton," said Bauer quietly. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I just saved your arse."

Jeremy sat up. "How do you know that?" he asked, suddenly alarmed.

Bauer rolled his eyes. "Oh, relax, I'm not gonna snitch on you. If I did, Malfoy would probably turn on me for not telling him you were in love with Grady all those months ago."

"I was not..."

"Leighton. Shut up. You stare at him in Charms like he has five arseholes. And you were the only one of us that was here over the holidays. Everyone with half a brain will know it was you who snitched. In fact, I'm pretty sure everyone does know, including Malfoy."

"Then why didn't..."

"Leighton. Let me explain a few things about the Slytherins that you obviously haven't picked up just yet." He walked over and sat on Jeremy's bed. As it had in the common room, the expression on his face suggested he was explaining things to a dim-witted child. "First of all, we don't have friends. How you can tell is, we all call each other by our last names."

That's not true, Jeremy thought. You and Wong stay up half the night telling dirty jokes, and the girls are always giggling together in the common room. And you try telling me Crabbe and Goyle aren't Malfoy's friends!

But Bauer was still talking. "Second," he said, "there's no such thing as loyalty. Loyalty's for Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. Slytherins are only loyal to themselves."

Again, not true, Jeremy thought. "Themselves and You-Know-Who," he said bitterly.

Bauer shook his head. "No, Leighton. Don't you get it? I for one couldn't give a toss about You-Know-Who unless he's gonna pay me good gold. Most of us are the same. Malfoy, on the other hand..." He snorted. "See, most of us just keep to ourselves and try to get ahead in our own ways. But Malfoy, he's not happy doing that, he's gotta have us all licking his boots. And of course, his daddy's spent his whole life training him up to be You-Know-Who's little servant, and drilling him with all that crap about pure blood and how we should just kill all the Muggles."

"So has mine," said Jeremy quietly.

Kenneth smirked. "Obviously, you didn't listen. Or maybe your dad missed the bit about killing people who didn't do anything to you."

"He missed killing, full stop."

Kenneth laughed out loud. "Well that's not much good, is it?" He grinned. "The whole idea is stupid. I mean, revenge I understand, but Malfoy just wants all the Muggles and Mudbloods dead. Which'll leave all of about fifty pure-blood wizards, like we're not inbred enough already."

"So do you..." Jeremy hesitated. What if he'd misunderstood? Or worse, if Bauer was trying to trick him? But in that case, why didn't he give Jeremy away? "Do you think you'll actually fight... against You-Know-Who?"

Bauer rolled his eyes. "You haven't been listening, Leighton. I don't give a Hippogriff's arse about You-Know-Who or fighting You-Know-Who. I'll leave that to wankers like Malfoy and Potter. I have better things to do with my life than run around in a black robe torturing Muggles or saving them. They can save themselves for all I care."

Jeremy tried to absorb this. But it just didn't make any sense. On the one hand, Bauer seemed to dislike Malfoy, Voldemort and everything they stood for. On the other hand, he really didn't seem to care what they did. Jeremy couldn't figure out where Bauer stood.

"Look," said Jeremy finally. "Not that I'm not grateful or anything, but I just don't get why you bothered getting me out of trouble. I mean, if it was so obvious that I snitched, Malfoy wouldn't think to blame it on anyone else. Would he?"

Bauer sighed. He seemed tired now. "You can't predict what Malfoy will do. He's completely mental. I just thought he needed to be brought down a peg or two. He's been lording over us all year, and fact is, most of us don't want to be in his little Junior Death Eater Club. There's nothing in it for us, and I don't see why I should stick my neck out and risk expulsion just so he can get himself into You-Know-Who's good books. It's bad enough I'm on detention for the rest of the year." He paused. "Thing is, what happened to you could've happened to any of us. And if I hadn't stepped in, you'd probably be getting the Grady treatment right now. Once Malfoy sees he can get away with doing it to you, none of us will be safe."

The Grady treatment... Jeremy shivered as images from that awful night flashed before his eyes. That's what I escaped. That's what Bauer saved me from.

"Thanks," he said earnestly. "I'm really... well, thanks."

Bauer seemed embarrassed. "Accepted. But I didn't do it for you, Leighton. I'm not a bloody Gryffindor."

Jeremy nodded. The Gryffindors didn't save Grady, he thought.

Suddenly, he remembered something about Grady from the evening's conversation. He'd taken no notice at the time, because he'd been drowning in terror. Now that he knew he was safe, fragments were coming back, and he was struggling to put them all together. He was sure a lot of them were important, and he knew he'd need to be alert if he wanted to survive the rest of the year.

"Hey Bauer," he asked. "You know when Malfoy said Grady will get what's coming to him?"

"Yeah?" said Bauer, who was rummaging in his trunk for his pyjamas.

"What did he mean?"

Bauer straightened up, holding a rumpled t-shirt and what appeared to be an ancient pair of tracksuit bottoms. "Oh... he said something about it on the train. I think You-Know-Who wants him."

Jeremy was taken aback. "You-Know-Who wants... Grady? Why?"

Bauer shrugged. "I dunno. Malfoy said something about rogue magic. Yeah, that'll be it." He shut his trunk. "'Cause not many people can do it, right? Like Zabini said. You hardly ever find an adult wizard who can still do it, so I guess Grady's something special. Ironic, isn't it, that he's made himself so useful to the Dark Lord by choosing to live with Muggles. Just shows you what a load of bollocks all that pure-blood stuff is."

"Yeah," said Jeremy vaguely. He was thinking about Grady. He remembered the library. He remembered the hate in Grady eyes, and the hate in Grady's voice as he said his parting words:

"Drop dead, Leighton."

Bauer sniggered from his bed. "Don't worry, Leighton," he said with a grin, "You-Know-Who wants your boyfriend alive."

Jeremy groaned. Bauer seemed way too fond of this joke. "Whatever, Bauer," he said. "Like I care."

But he did care. A part of him was thinking: Serve him right. But another, more important part, was thinking, No, that's not right, no one deserves that. Alive or dead, if Voldemort gets him, it'll be a thousand times worse than what we did to him. I have to warn him. I have to do something.

But what could he do? Grady certainly wouldn't listen to anything Jeremy said. And Grady wasn't talking to Ellie, either, so telling her wouldn't do any good.

Tell Dumbledore?

Jeremy dismissed the thought with a shake of his head. He'd never get away with it. If he got caught snitching again, Bauer wouldn't be able to save him.

But I promised myself that next time I'd do the right thing!

Now that Bauer had rescued him from Malfoy, however, Jeremy wasn't at all eager to stick his neck out again. There has to be another way...

Jeremy sighed and put his head in his hands. He was exhausted. So much had happened that day, that he simply couldn't cope with another problem. Damn you, Grady.

Jeremy decided to go to sleep. He couldn't possibly do anything now, and he was facing his first day of detention tomorrow. I'll think when I'm awake. I'll come up with something. How hard can it be to tell someone they're in danger?

Even if he does hate me.

This unpleasant thought seemed to double Jeremy's exhaustion. I have to sleep. This is too much.

But he promised himself that if he couldn't think of any other way to help Grady, he'd go to Dumbledore. I have to. After what we did... I have to.

There was plenty of time, anyway. Voldemort couldn't possibly get to Grady while he was here at Hogwarts. And Grady wouldn't leave the Hogwarts grounds until the holidays. No Hogsmeade visits... no Quidditch... he'll hardly even leave the castle. Hogwarts is the safest place. Everyone says so. I have to tell him before the holidays. But as long as he's here, he's safe.

Especially now that Malfoy's not allowed to hurt him.