Broken Fate

Chapter Eighteen ~ The Howler

"Wotcher, Harry!" Tonks flashed him a grin as he settled into his seat for Wednesday's session of Double Defense Against the Dark Arts. Her hair was waist-length and an interesting shade of green today, and she had half of it piled up in curls on her head.

"'lo, Tonks," Harry smiled back, but his mind was still on Saturday's upcoming Quidditch match. He kept running things over in his mind, to make sure he had thought to tell his teammates everything.

When all of the class was settled, Tonks sat down on the edge of her desk. "Now, all of you brought your Reciprocated Mirrors today?"

Harry set the small, round Reciprocated Mirror onto his desk; Tonks had asked them to bring them to this class. Ginny, Katie, and Sari have the Porskoff Ploy worked out pretty well...I need to get Daniel and Andrew to practice the feint with the Bludger one more time so the girls' have a full advantage...

"All right, now! Who can tell me what a Reciprocated Mirror--oh, blast!" There was a loud crashing noise. Harry was jerked out of his thoughts to see that Tonks had accidentally knocked her own Mirror onto the floor.

The class was used to Tonks' frequent accidents. She did all right as long as there was nothing breakable around; of course, there were the times when she would bang her shin against a desk... There were also several memorable incidents; during one of her first classes, she had tripped over the leg of her chair, and her wand had gone flying. It had smacked Lavender Brown in the head and turned her entirely purple. Madam Pomfrey had been able to turn her all the way back to normal, except for the violet hair, which had faded over the period of a week.

"Oops. Reparo." Tonks waved her wand, and the Reciprocated Mirror repaired itself. Scooping it up off the ground, Tonks set it carefully on the desk. "Now, who can tell me about the Mirrors? Yes, Neville."

Neville cleared his throat. "The Reciprocated Mirrors were invented quite a while ago, but people started buying and selling them a lot after the news of You-Know-Who's return got out," he said. "They're recording devices. My gran has them set up all over our house."

"Exactly!" Tonks beamed at Neville. "The Ministry originally developed them for surveillance purposes, but as Neville said, they became widely available to the general public this summer. They're rather like a Gourl, which just started being sold last spring."

Harry stopped thinking about Quidditch and focused on what Tonks was saying. The Gourl had been the cause of a great deal of troubles already...

"The Gourl, you see, records information that you can play back to hear. You can carry it to classes with you to take notes; things like that. A Reciprocated Mirror works in much the same way, except that it records whatever it sees when it is activated with a spell. Then, it can be played back with another spell. Many witches and wizards are having them installed in their houses--as Neville said his grandmother is doing--so that if they come under any kind of attack, the Ministry will be able to see who did the attacking."

Harry thought about the mirror that had been in Voldemort's possession...the one that he looked in and thought he was seeing Harry's life at Hogwarts...the one that had been fed false information from the Gourl. Had it been some sort of Reciprocated Mirror? It was quite likely.

"It's like a video camera!" Dean Thomas exclaimed with enthusiasm.

"Quite right!" Tonks agreed with a grin. She looked at several confused students and said, "A video camera is a Muggle visual recording device. My dad's Muggleborn, and he always had Muggle contraptions and appliances around the house. He's also a Quidditch referee, and when I was growing up, he would sometimes be gone for a couple of days at a time. He would bring his video camera with him, and set it to film the match so I could watch it. Now, I'm going to be teaching you how to use these Mirrors today. You just might find a use for them sometime--and no, that does not include hiding them in any of the girls' showers," she said pointedly to the boys.

The class snickered.

"The Reciprocated Mirrors are small enough to keep in your pocket, and you just might come across a time when there is something you need to record visually in a hurry. You never know when some devices might come in handy," Tonks said. "Right...now point your wand at your Mirror and say, 'recordus.' That's the activation spell..." She waited for them to do as she'd asked. "Right, now they should be recording. Now, to stop them recording, simply use 'finite incantatem.' To get the Mirror to show you what it has recorded, you touch it with your wand and say, 'revelo imagus.' Now, your assignment for today is to practice using these. All right? Any questions?"

No one raised their hands, and Tonks nodded. "Good. Moving on...we're going to begin talking about a subject that Aurors study to protect their minds against intrusion--Occlumency."

~*~

Ginny yawned, peering blurrily at her History of Magic essay. She still needed six more inches of writing, and she couldn't think of what else to say about this stupid goblin war. She could only say so much about lots of blood and people with really weird names. She knew she should be asleep; tomorrow was Friday, the day before the Quidditch match, and Harry had already warned the team he would be getting them up early.

She heard footsteps coming down the boys' staircase, and glanced over to see who was up so late. She was mildly surprised when Will emerged, clutching something in his hands. "And I thought I was the only one who stayed up this late."

Startled, Will looked over at the couch where she sat, with her single light burning on end table. "Ginny...sorry, I didn't think anyone would be up..." he said awkwardly. "I just...I should go back to bed."

Ginny's eyebrows rose. "It's all right, Will...you can continue with whatever you came down here to do, and I promise if you sneak out the portrait hole, I won't tell McGonagall." She winked at him to show she was teasing.

Will relaxed slighly, and gave her his familiar smile that had come to remind her of Ron's. "I'm not sneaking out. I just...didn't want to turn on a light and wake anyone in my dorm, but I wanted to look at this..." He shrugged helplessly, clutching the item in his hands more tightly.

"What's that?" Ginny asked, nodding at it.

Will looked down. "It's...photographs," he finally said. He sighed, and came to sit beside her on the couch. He set the object he was holding on his lap, and Ginny saw that it was a photo album. "When we came back to this time, we mostly brought things that we would need--money, the map, the invisibility cloak...but there were some things we brought because we didn't want to lose them, and because we thought they might be important--my mum's journal...this photo album..."

Ginny's interest was piqued. "Are there pictures of Ron and Hermione in there? The future them, I mean."

Will nodded. He hesitated, then said, "There are pictures of you in here, too."

Pictures of me... Ginny stared at the book. Part of her was extremely curious and wanted to ask to see the photographs, and part of her was hesitant about it. It was one thing to hear about her future self, but to see it was something else entirely. Her curiosity overwhelmed her hesitance, and she said, "Would you mind if I...if I see them?"

"Only if you're sure you want to," Will said. "I don't want to make you...uncomfortable."

Ginny laughed. "Oh, Will. I'm far past the stage of being uncomfortable about this whole situation. I'm in correspondence with my sixteen-year-old daughter."

Will gave her another half-smile, and said, "All right, then. It's in chronological order..." With an obvious tenderness, he flipped open the album and pointed to the first picture on the front page.

Ginny's eyes widened, and she grinned at the picture of Ron, Harry, and Hermione. All of them were waving, and Ron appeared to be cheering. "Graduation day?"

"Yes."

"Look at Ron and Hermione staring at each other...they still look all starry-eyed," Ginny chuckled. She watched their photographic selves smile broadly, and Ron gave Hermione a kiss on the lips. Will motioned to the next page, which revealed two more pictures of Ron and Hermione. Ginny couldn't help noticing that while they were obviously happy, there were shadows on their faces that shouldn't have been there. Of course...Dumbledore was dead, and the world was falling into ruin... she thought.

When Will flipped to the next page, Ginny's jaw dropped. She quickly closed it and stared at the picture. "That's..." Don't be stupid, Ginny! You knew there were pictures of you in here...and you know that Jamie said her parents got together during Harry's seventh year and my sixth... Ginny couldn't take her eyes off of the photo, in which she and Harry were standing in front of the lake outside of Hogwarts. They had their arms wrapped around each other, and were both smiling. The first thing Ginny noticed was how completely comfortable the image of herself appeared in Harry's arms. They just looked so...perfect together. So right. Ginny swallowed a lump in her throat as the photographic image of Harry leaned down to whisper something in Ginny's ear, and Ginny appeared to be laughing.

The second thing she noticed were the worry lines on Harry's forehead. "When was this?" she asked Will. He'd said they were in chronological order, so it had to be after Harry's graduation...but he was still at Hogwarts.

"Your seventh year," Will replied. "The Order was trying to bring the wizarding community together. They worked out of Hogwarts for a year." He looked at her closely, as if trying to gauge her reaction. "Are you all right?"

Ginny felt another pang as she looked once more at the picture of the future Harry and Ginny...the future them that might not happen. "I'm fine," she said quickly, averting her eyes to the next picture. "That's Neville," she said in surprise. "And Luna Lovegood."

"I don't know much about her," Will said, motioning at Luna. "She disappeared before I was born...no doubt one of Voldemort's many victims. She was part of the Order's movement, though."

Ginny looked at the picture next to it. "Is that...Gabrielle Delacour?"

"Yes. This is her in her second year--your seventh."

Ginny studied the picture. Gabrielle's silvery-blond hair fell down her back, and in her blue eyes, Ginny could see a strange mixture of laughter and grim determination. She's only twelve in this...but her eyes look...old. She looks like someone who's seen a lot. Of course, Beauxbatons had been attacked in Gabrielle's first year there...had she seen the attack? Most likely...who knew how many people had died? Who knew if she had seen friends killed? She looked again the picture of Neville and Luna, and tried to imagine Neville and Gabrielle together...it was difficult, but not impossible.

Will continued to flip through the photo album, and Ginny began to notice that most of the people in the pictures had the same, worn, knowing expression in their eyes...looking at the pictures of herself was a bit disturbing, because she watched the change occur in her own eyes as well. It's not fair! It's not right! Everyone was dealing with more than they should have had to.

There were pictures of their wedding days. "Not much of a wedding," Will admitted, pointing to Ron and Hermione's picture. "They were in hiding, so they couldn't exactly invite friends and stuff. They just threw on their best robes and had a ceremony."

Ginny gazed at the picture of her brother and his girlfriend...well, wife, in the picture. Despite the aged eyes, they were both beaming. She choked back tears. They deserve more than that...they deserve to have a big wedding, with lots of people, and feel free to stuff themselves with cake and punch...

Equally distressing was the photograph of Harry and Ginny's marriage. It looked very similar to Ron and Hermione's, and Ginny once again felt herself overwhelmed with emotion. "How...how old was I? When we married?" she whispered. She knew Jamie had been born in October of 2004, which made Ginny twenty-three at the time of her birth.

"Nineteen," Will said simply. "My parents married a year before that." The photographs continued, and some faces, Ginny didn't recognize. Will explained each one to her. "That's Thea Biggs; she was a witch from Scotland...her family was tortured and killed... That's Matthias Elister; he was a Muggle, but he fought right alongside the wizarding community... That's Wesley Fox; he was a wizard who sacrificed himself and took seven Death Eaters with him..."

The pages were full of unsung heroes, those from Will's time that would forever be forgotten, save by Will, Shay, and Jamie. Ginny was touched and honored that Will was allowing her to take part in this memory. There were more pictures of Ron and Hermione, and Harry and Ginny. She watched as Gabrielle Delacour grew up, transforming into a gorgeous young woman. She looked very much like Fleur, but she had her own unique face and smile, and there was a stubbornness to her features that Ginny liked. At last came the picture of what Will said was Gabrielle and Neville's wedding ceremony, though if Ginny hadn't been told as much, she wouldn't have thought it was a wedding. Both Gabrielle and Neville were wearing plain robes, and they were standing in front of a half-crumbled wall. Still, there was a light in both of their faces, and Ginny was astounded at the transformation in Neville. She had never seen him look so...alive.

Shortly after that, Will, Shay, and Jamie made their appearance in the albums. Ginny brushed away tears when she saw an image of her older self rocking a dark-haired baby in her arms, and she thought her heart would break when she saw the photo of Harry tossing a toddler Jamie up into the air. There weren't nearly as many pictures of the children as their had been photos in the beginning, but she studied each one with care, paying special attention to the ones of Jamie...she watched her future daughter change from a baby, to a pig-tailed little girl, to an adolescent. Will explained, "We didn't have much film...it was sort of stretched to last so we could have some pictures of ourselves growing up. The last pictures that were taken were just before my parents died."

He was right; the last picture in the album was that of Will, Shay, and Jamie. Jamie stood in between the two boys, her arms wrapped around them, a grinning straight at Ginny. The moving picture of Shay rolled his eyes, and Will shook his head. "She had really long hair," Ginny said, touching the moving image of Jamie Potter, whose black hair dropped down to her waist.

"Yes...well, she still would..." Will said. "About a year ago, there was an...um...accident," he said awkwardly. He wore an expression that made Ginny think there was something about this 'accident' that he didn't want to say, and he was trying to think of a way to explain it without giving something away. "An accident," he repeated, nodding consideringly. "Shay...sort of...burned most of Jamie's hair off. She was really, really upset about it, and she's growing it out again..."

Ginny's first thought was, Shay was the cause of an accident? He didn't strike her as the sort of person to cause accidents at all--he always seemed very careful and very wary. Well, I guess that's why they call them 'accidents.' Everyone has them...except Will didn't seem entirely sure that this should be called an accident. And I very seriously doubt that Shay would have burned Jamie's hair on purpose! She shook her head. She was probably trying to see more to this than was actually there; a side-effect of growing up with Fred and George. "Why doesn't she just do a Hair-Lengthening Charm?" Ginny wondered.

Will's eyebrows rose. "It's not something any of us ever learned to do," he said simply. "We were too busy learning defense and attack spells."

Stupid, Ginny! Of course...they didn't have normal childhoods. Ginny looked back at the picture. "I'll have to teach it to her when I see her," she said consideringly. She yawned, once more realizing how exhausted she was. Guess I'll try to finish my History of Magic paper before breakfast, she thought resignedly. "Thanks for sharing these with me, Will." She laid a hand on his shoulder for a moment, then stood up. "I'm heading off to bed now."

"Good night, Ginny."

Ginny headed up the staircase, looking back once to see Will pouring through the photo album again. We have to stop that future. We just have to.

~*~

Shay Longbottom was not used to being disconcerted, and it had happened far too often lately for his comfort. Starting with Neville Longbottom, who had actually approached him a month earlier and apologized for his future self never knowing Shay. Emotions that Shay had long buried--and continued to bury, everytime they came up--had risen dangerously close to the surface. He had clamped his mouth shut to keep from saying anything he knew he would regret, turned, and stormed away from Neville. Neville's words had brought out the argument he had had with Jamie weeks earlier.

"You might be in Slytherin and he in Gryffindor, Shay, but he's your father. If I was there, I'd be doing everything I could to get to know my parents. This might be the only chance you'll ever have to get to know him a little bit. Why are you scared of it?"

"I'm not scared!"

"You might be able to pull that on someone else, but I've known you my whole life, Seamus Longbottom. You are scared. So don't pull that 'I'm not scared of anything' load of nonsense on me. You're scared, and you're angry at your father. You always have been."

"Shut up!"

"You feel betrayed, and you feel like he betrayed your moth--"

And then Shay had cursed her to keep her from speaking.

Shay had blocked everything she had said from his mind, just like so many other things. They all were filed into the 'do not touch' part of his brain, but Neville had unwittingly brought them out again.

There was so much that he had always wanted to say to his father, and he had never had the chance to do so. There was no sense in saying it to Neville; he was just a sixteen-year-old in this time, and had not yet done anything for which Shay could be angry. All the same, he was. He was furious at Neville. Yes, he respected his father for what he had been, but the anger overwhelmed that, as irrational as that anger was.

Like so many times before, he had gotten his emotions under control, and he tried to go on as normally as he could. Except even in that, he failed. Every time that he saw Neville in their shared classes, anytime he caught his eye during meals, anytime Neville offered him a cautious smile in the corridors, Shay felt all the suppressed emotions struggle to rise out of his control.

And he hated it, and hated that Neville--clumsy, round-faced Neville--caused such upheaval in him. He had moments where he wanted to talk to someone about it, which was rare enough. Shay simply did not talk about his feelings with anybody. Must be Jamie's influence rubbing off on me, he sighed to himself. She's always gung-ho about 'expressing your feelings,' he snorted.

He couldn't let himself talk to anyone, though. Will wouldn't understand--he had known his parents most of his life; Will hadn't had to deal with the same situation in his parentage that Shay did. Jamie would probably understand better, considering who her father was, but he just couldn't talk to her about it, either. Too much pride got in the way--Shay Longbottom could handle himself, thank you very much.

Shay did see Will quite often; the Hogwarts Coalition gave them the perfect excuse to be seen together in the hallways. Besides that, all of Hogwarts believed that they had transferred from the same school, so no one had a problem thinking that they had been friends for a long time. But he couldn't see Will all the time, and besides that, Will was busy with everyone in Gryffindor. Shay found himself spending more time with Blaise Zabini--they had an unspoken agreement; Shay didn't ask about Blaise's past or how he ended up starting a Slytherin uprising, and Blaise didn't ask of Shay's past.

Shay would never have admitted it, but he missed Jamie. He missed exchanging sarcastic remarks with her, and even putting up with her lectures and headstrong opinions. They had always kept each other on their toes.

Jamie did owl him, about the same time that Neville spoke to him. Her letter was long and detailed, telling of everything that she had been doing at the Burrow. Professor Dumbledore has come up with a way of schooling me outside of Hogwarts. He gives curriculum to Bill Weasley, who then gives it to me. Bill has been tutoring me and helping me with the practical application of what I'm learning. He's a good guy, Shay.

Shay thought about writing back, but really didn't have much to say. Besides, he would actually have to sit down with a quill and ink and try to get the words onto paper, and that was just annoying.

However, after her third letter to him, she wrote, I know you're not much of a letter-writer, but I want to know that you're all right, and I want to hear it from you and not just from Will. So if you don't write me back this time, then the next note I send to you is going to be a Howler.

Shay had rolled his eyes, but sent her a brief note, knowing that she would indeed owl him a Howler if he didn't. The last thing he needed the school hearing was a girl shouting at him--he didn't even want to imagine what she would be bellowing. She would probably make it as embarrassing as possible--it would be just the sort of thing she would do, and she certainly knew enough about him to make it excruciatingly mortifying. And he wouldn't put it past her to simply make something up if she felt like it, which, considering her imagination, could prove even worse than the truth.

Jamie also sent him a small package, with an attached memo. I'm sending this courtesy of Fred and George. They wanted me to pay, but I told them I had earned it after everything I've been subjected to at their hands. They might be pranksters, but some of their inventions are quite useful. I thought you might be able to use them, especially if Draco gives you any trouble...you know, just slip a bit of Ton-Tongue Toffee onto his plate. Enclosed was an assortment of Fred and George's illness-inducing treats, as well as several sets of Extendable Ears, which Shay thought might end up coming in very handy.

Shay had also been avoiding the attention of other girls in Hogwarts. Rowan, the Ravenclaw who had stuck to him like glue for a week, had finally given up on him. For some reason that Shay couldn't quite pinpoint, he had lost his desire to have anything to do with the girls at Hogwarts. He attributed it to the distractions Neville posed, his busy work with the Coalition, and the watch he still kept for anything that could relate to their mission here in the past.

The evening before the much-anticipated Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin, he was sitting in one of the high-backed chairs in the Slytherin common room. It was well past midnight, and though he had classes in the morning, Shay couldn't sleep. It was habit, he supposed, from when he was very little. His mother used to have nights when she was unable to sleep, and Shay often found himself waking up and going to find her in whatever hole they were staying in. He remembered his mother as a very strong-willed, stubborn woman, but she always seemed to carry a weight and a sadness with her. Instead of telling Shay to go back to bed, she would hold out her arms and let him sit with her, telling him stories in her native French.

Shay tiredly rubbed a hand across his forehead, blinking memories of long-forgotten tales out of his mind. It was no use dwelling on that past. It was far in the past--well, the future, technically--and nothing he could do would bring back the mother he had known. Gabrielle Delacour was a ten-year-old child in this time.

Shay was just thinking about getting up and heading to bed when he heard soft footsteps pattering through the common room. The high back of the chair he was sitting in prevented him from seeing who it was. The exit door swung open, then closed with a click.

Immediately alert, Shay pelted toward his dormitory, digging the Marauder's Map out of his trunk, careful not to wake any of his sleeping dormmates. It was his week to have Jamie's map and invisibility cloak, to keep an eye out for anything unusual. He honestly hadn't expected to find anything; what were the chances of finding anything suspicious on it in the short periods of time he and the others looked at the two maps?

Shay took the map and the cloak back down to the common room, where he activated the map. He quickly scanned the names, and immediately saw who had left Slytherin House. Draco Malfoy was moving out of the dungeons, and going into the entrance hall.

Shay's eyes narrowed. There was no way that Draco was out for a midnight snack. He had to be up to something. Things were still very tense between the two boys; Draco continued to attempt to retaliate for the curse Shay had put on him one of his first week of Hogwarts. So far, by keeping a very wary eye out, Shay had avoided all revenge.

Throwing the invisibility cloak over his head, Shay hurried out of the dormitory. He stopped at intervals to poke the map out from under the cloak so he could see it in the torches that lined the dungeon corridors. Draco eventually stopped at a room on the third floor, which Shay recognized as an unused office.

Shay followed, and finally came to a halt outside the closed door. About now, Shay began to realize the wisdom of what Professor McGonagall had said about Transfiguration. If he knew how to transfigure himself into a bug, he could just crawl under the door and listen. After all, in this time, no one yet knew how to detect when someone had transfigured.

As this wasn't an option, Shay fell back to good old-fashioned eavesdropping. Those Extendable Ears Jamie sent me would do well right about now. Pity I didn't bring one... Crouching down on the floor, keeping one eye on the Map, Shay peered under the crack in the door. Fortunately, Draco had not put an Imperturbable Charm on the door and sealed it against anyone listening in.

Under the door, he could just see a fire in his direct line of sight, and by the light of it, he made out Draco's feet. And there, in the fire, was a head. Shay couldn't make out whose head it was; the person was wearing a black mask. Death Eater, was Shay's first thought.

"...fine," Draco drawled, "I'm not just doing this to help you out. I want my father out of prison."

"You are in no position to be making demands," the voice from the head snapped. "You report to me what you know, and the Dark Lord makes the decisions."

"If you want to wreak havoc, by all means, do it." Then Draco's voice chilled. "But I want my father out. That's not a demand. It's a request, on the good faith I've given by reporting to you."

The head snorted. "You haven't reported much of interest."

"I've reported enough."

"You're not the judge of that. If you don't have anything else, I'll be going. And if you want to work for the Dark Lord, you had best learn a bit more humility. I'll see you at the same time next week, and perhaps you'll have more to report than ridiculous school skirmishes." With that, there was a faint pop! and the head vanished. Draco muttered something, and the fire went out. No longer able to see in the room, Shay scooted back, pulling the Marauder's Map under the invisibility cloak.

What was he supposed to make of that conversation? He wasn't at all surprised that Draco was feeding Death Eaters information on what was happening with Hogwarts. He wasn't sure how long it had been going on, but the fact that the Death Eater expected to see Draco next week at the same time made Shay think this was a regular occurrence.

Shay's thoughts were interrupted when Peeves, the ever-annoying poltergeist, popped through the floor at the precise moment Draco exited the room. Peeves cackled when he saw Draco. "Oooh, lookie! Student out of bed! My, my, what will the teachers say?" Raising his voice, he bellowed, "STUDENT OUT OF BED!"

Draco took off at a dead run. He disappeared around the corridor just as Filch came from the opposite direction. "Who's out of bed? Where'd they go, Peeves?"

Peeves blew a raspberry at Filch. "Not telling," he said.

Shay snuck down the corridor as Peeves and Filch argued. He would deal with Draco later. He could spy on Draco a bit more, he supposed, and it would probably be more sensible than attacking Draco outright... Besides, Shay sighed resignedly, if I spy instead of just trying to force Draco to tell me what I know, I might learn some things that even he doesn't know yet.

He determined that he would definitely talk to Will about this in the morning, and he would find out what Draco was up to.

~*~

Saturday morning dawned bright and clear. All of the Quidditch players were nervous, though those who were newer to the team showed it more. Harry was trying to make sure all of the team ate a good breakfast, but some of them were only picking at their food, looking too anxious to eat. Hermione arrived shortly after they had sat down.

"Good morning!" she said cheerfully, plunking herself down next to Ron and kissing him on the cheek.

"Uh," was Ron's reply, as he turned and slid down so he could lean against Hermione.

"It'll be fine, Ron," Hermione told him soothingly as she used one hand to run her fingers through Ron's hair, and the other hand to put a piece of toast on her plate. She deftly buttered it and put marmalade on it single-handedly. At that moment, the morning post began to arrive, and owls swooped through the Great Hall, dropping off letters and packages.

"Uh," Ron reiterated.

"It isn't as if you haven't played before," Hermione told him. "'Morning, Will!" she said, as Will Weasley sat down across from Ginny.

Will smiled and ran a hand through his touseled hair. "'Morning."

"It'll be fun!" Sari exclaimed, bouncing in her seat. "My mum's playing her first Quidditch match of the season this morning, too--Her team's playing against France."

Ginny stabbed a piece of egg and stuffed it into her mouth. She stopped eating long enough to poke her Daniel with her fork--he was clutching his stomach and looking at his sausage and marmalade toast with a pale face. "It's not so bad," she whispered. "Just remember everything we practiced."

Several of Sari's first year friends, including Aiden, sat down near Sari. Sari and Aiden immediately began carrying out a silent conversation with their hands. Ginny watched with interest for a minute, wondering what they were talking about. She could only understand a word here and there, simply from spending so much time on the Quidditch pitch with Sari. Harry was watching too, and he must have understood something of what they said, for he tossed a piece of toast at Sari to get her attention, and then said, "I did not."

Sari shrugged carelessly. "Something like that," she replied, half a grin on her face. Then she turned back to Aiden.

"How much of that do you understand?" Ginny asked before Harry could retort, nodding at Aiden and Sari.

Harry sighed. "Not enough. Some, though. At this point, I can only catch words or sentences here and there. I can't follow entire conversations--especially not when they get going," he said. "Maybe by the end of the year I'll be able to." He shrugged and returned to his plate of eggs.

Ginny caught sight of Shay approaching from the Slytherin table, and she frowned. He didn't usually come over to the Gryffindor table. Harry caught sight of him, too, and exchanged glances with Ginny. When Shay was close enough, Harry muttered, "Is something wrong?"

Shay spared him only a brief glance. "I need to talk to Will."

Will immediately stood to his feet, and he and Shay withdrew to the edge of the Great Hall. Shay spoke to Will for a long moment, and Will glanced back at the Gryffindor table, a frown on his face. They talked for several more minutes, and then Shay departed for the Slytherin table. Will came back to the Gryffindors and slid back into his seat.

"What was that about?" Ginny whispered, leaning across the table.

Will shook his head, a frown on his face. "Shay followed Draco last night," he whispered. "Draco was communicating with a Death Eater through the floo network--it seems Draco's been regularly giving information to the Death Eaters."

Harry frowned deeply. "That--" he was cut off when a sudden, booming voice echoed through the Great Hall. Everyone immediately stilled, realizing that someone had received a Howler. It spoke only one sentence, in a high, cold voice. Despite the brief message, Ginny could hear a humor in the words that chilled her.

"LET THE GAMES BEGIN."

Ginny scanned the Great Hall, looking for the source of the voice. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a burst of flame coming from the teacher's podium. Tonks was staring down at a pile of ash.

"Tonks," Ginny said in a hushed voice, nodding at their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. "I wonder who sent--"

"Voldemort," Harry hissed, his own face taut. He looked grimly at Ginny, Hermione, Ron, and Will. "That was Voldemort's voice."

~*~

It was a very somber Harry that led his team out onto the Quidditch pitch a little while after breakfast. Ginny and Ron both exchanged worried glances with him. Great, Harry thought angrily. Just great. We've been practicing and working ourselves to death to perfect ourselves for this match, and now our focus is on Voldemort. Didn't it figure? Who else had the ability to ruin something like a school Quidditch match?

Why had Voldemort sent that Howler to Tonks, though? What had it meant? He was obviously telling her that he was going to exact some kind of revenge on her for her betrayal to him, but what, exactly, was he planning?

Focus on the Quidditch match, he told himself. Think about Voldemort later. You have to focus on beating Malfoy now. You have to pay attention to what's going on with the team.

As Harry moved to the Quidditch pitch, he was stopped by Professor McGonagall, who hurried toward him. "Mr. Potter!"

Harry's heart froze at the tone of her voice. He had a sudden sense of déja vu. The last time McGonagall had stopped him from going onto the pitch before a match, Hermione had been Petrified by a basilisk.

"I'm afraid this Quidditch match has been cancelled. We will reschedule it for later," Professor McGonagall said.

Disappointment and even more worry surged through Harry, and he ignored the disappointed groans of Daniel and Andrew. "Professor, what--"

"I will explain later, Mr. Potter. Right now I require Ms. Xiu's company."

Frowning, Harry looked over his soulder at Sari. "Professor--"

"Please proceed directly to your dormitory. You will be briefed on the situation there."

Confused, Harry motioned the Gryffindor team to follow him, and Professor McGonagall took Sari by the arm and led her away. "What do you think's going on?" Ron whispered as he, Harry, and Ginny clustered together.

"I don't know, but I have a bad feeling about it," Ginny said uneasily.

"Me, too," Harry agreed.

They reached the Gryffindor common room just ahead of Katie, Daniel, and Andrew. They found it already packed with the rest of the Gryffindor students. They still had to wait for Professor McGonagall, though. Whispers and speculations wound through the room. Hermione joined Harry, Ginny, and Ron, and shortly after, Neville made his way over. "Does anyone know what's going on?" Hermione asked.

Harry shook his head. "Professor McGonagall took Sari with her, but didn't say what this was about. Sari's still not here." He looked around the room, and frowned. "Come to think of it, Aiden's not here, either."

Will joined them then, and they waited for what felt to Harry like an eternity. Finally, Professor McGonagall stepped through the portrait hole, and everyone immediately stopped talking. McGonagall eyed them for a moment, and then said gravely, "A horrible tragedy has occurred today." She paused, and sighed heavily. "As many of you know, the Quidditch league was having a match in France today."

Many students nodded, and Harry's heart plummeted. He recalled at breakfast that Sari had said her mother's team was playing against France this morning. And didn't Aiden say that his father played on the same Quidditch team as Sari's mother?

"As soon as the spectators had been seated, and the Quidditch match was about to begin, the stadium was attacked by Death Eaters. They surrounded the place before anyone realized and they--well, they blew up the stadium."

Professor McGonagall's announcement was meant with shocked silence, and then Dennis Creevey exclaimed, "They blew up the stadium?"

"There are very few survivors," Professor McGonagall said in a strained voice. "The Quidditch players themselves were at the edge of the blast. A few died, but most were transported to St. Jacques' Hospital in Paris. Two of your classmates--Aiden Connor and Sari Xiu--had parents on one of the Quidditch teams. Their parents are still alive, but in critical condition."

Harry closed his eyes and pressed a hand against his forehead. He wasn't sure whether to feel horribly sad or enraged. He mentally cursed Voldemort and his followers. Why had they done this? Why attack a Quidditch game?

"Death Eaters thrive on striking terror and fear into the hearts and minds of everyone possible," Professor McGonagall said, emotion straining her face. "Now, I have to go to a staff meeting. Aiden and Sari will be absent for several days. When they return, please be sensitive to them." With that, Professor McGonagall left the tower.

The students immediately burst into loud conversation. Harry, Will, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Neville retreated to a corner of the common room, where they wouldn't be heard over the loud ravings of the other students.

"Will," Hermione began, looking as if she wanted to confront something, but wanted to do it as gently as possible.

"It didn't happen," Will said immediately. He shook his head. "Voldemort didn't start attacking outright until your seventh year," he sighed. "And this never happened."

"Then why?" Neville asked quietly. "What made You-Know-Who do this?"

"I don't...wait..." Hermione's eyes widened, and she hissed, "Tonks."

"What?" Ron frowned at her. "What does Tonks have to do with this?"

"She said her father is a Quidditch referee, remember? And this morning, Voldemort sent her a Howler..."

"'Let the games begin,'" Ginny recalled.

"Wait. You think Voldemort did this to get back at Tonks?" Ron asked in disbelief.

"It would be the sort of thing he would do," Harry said angrily. "Kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. Hurt Tonks and terrify and kill a bunch of people in the process. Of course, we're not sure--we'd have to find out if Tonks' father was refereeing this game."

The six of them exchanged glances, and Hermione said grimly, "Let's find out, then. Professor McGonagall should know."