And Malice Toward None

* * *

A scarce minute later Remus pressed Harry and Hermione through the heavy front door to 12 Grimmauld Place as Tonks kept a watchful eye over the dark and empty street. Harry jerked to a halt just inside the door, and Hermione slipped around him before similarly pulling up short.

The entry way was sheer bedlam. The ancient portrait of Sirius' mother had been blown off the wall, and from the smoke and debris, it had happened very recently. Along both of the hallway walls were wounded men and women, propped up and hastily bandaged. The Hogwarts school nurse, Madam Pomfrey, and one other mediwizard were rapidly emptying a cart of healing potions as they worked. Several Order members and a couple of wizards in Auror blue robes were tramping up the stairs at the far end of the hall, obviously worn ragged and headed for the upper floor bedrooms. Over the din of voices from the hall, they could hear that still more people were in the various first floor rooms.

The two teens were jostled forward as Remus and Tonks entered behind them and secured the doors. Tonks ran past, for once not displaying her usual clumsiness as she stepped over people's outstretched legs, headed for the library. Remus stepped around Harry, took them by shoulders and guided them to one side of the hall.

"You two weren't the only ones attacked tonight," Remus said in a low voice, his eyes sad. "Stay here for a moment while I report in. I'll come get you afterwards, I promise."

Harry nodded mutely, still looking around the foyer in shock.

Hermione's hand found her boyfriend's as she looked around. "Oh my word, Harry..."

His intense green eyes found hers. "We can help."

She stood still, shocked, and watched him heading up to the Hogwart's nurse before following after him. "We can?"

Madam Pomfrey looked up as Harry and Hermione knelt next to her, and glared briefly before returning to slathering orange salve on a nasty burn. "Mister Potter! I should have known I'd find you amongst the injured! Really, couldn't you wait until the start of term, for heaven's sake?"

"I'm not hurt ma'am," Harry said, passing her the eyedropper of serum to harden the Scorcher's Salve. "We want to help."

The Hogwart's Healer looked him over for a long moment, then did the same to Hermione. Seeing something she liked, she nodded stiffly. "You'll do, for those in the hallway at least. There's a triage in the sitting room; leave that to the experienced healers."

With that she pushed herself to her feet unsteadily and headed for the open doorway, potion and blood stains on her white nurse's smock. At the last moment she paused to shake a finger at them. "And for heaven's sake, don't waste the potions. We don't know if we're getting any more coming in tonight, and we may need what's left in that cart!"

"We won't," Hermione called after the nurse, but the old woman was already gone

Working together, Harry and Hermione started down the row of wounded along the right hand side of the hall. By unspoken agreement, the Healer they'd seen earlier seemed to be moving along the left hand wall. Harry's one class with Madam Pomfrey was sorely tested he used spellwork to set broken bones and conjured bandages. Although he knew a number of the potions, it turned out Hermione was a defter touch, and she lead the way dosing people with Post-Cruciatus droughts and Blood Replenishing Potions. By the time they'd finished with two ministry office workers and had started in on the second of the Aurors, they were moving in a quiet synchronization. Harry dropped a small vial into her hand, and she thanked him with a tight smile as she poured a dollop over a superficial cut. Harry still hadn't recovered his wand, and instead swept his hand over the Auror's side as he cast a couple of healing charms.

Checking him over, there didn't seem to be any more that needed to be done, and so the two teens moved on to the next person along the wall. Harry pulled up short, seeing Minister Percy Weasley sitting there, pressing a blood sodden handkerchief to his forehead. For a moment, Harry could only think of how often over the last few years Percy had set himself against his own family, Harry, Dumbledore, and even common decency. Then he blinked the thought away and turned back to the cart to fetch another vial for Hermione.

Minister Weasley looked at the potion he handed off to Hermione, and spoke sourly. "Do you know what you're doing?"

Harry stiffened, but Hermione replied for him. "Do you, Minister?"

It was Percy's turn to bristle as even he caught the derision in her use of his title. But he kept his mouth a tight, thin line and didn't speak as they worked on him, so Harry decided to call it a win. After a minute of the most uncomfortable silence Harry could remember offhand, one of the Weasley twins bounded out of the ground floor library and skidded to a stop behind Hermione.

"Hey, you two," the twin Harry thought might have been George began. "You haven't got a potion to fix what's wrong with Grand High Bighead Weatherby there. Just come on, there's loads of people you need to talk to."

Their work for the most part finished, Harry and Hermione pushed themselves upright and followed after George. Along the way, Hermione retrieved her wand from her pocket and cast a few quick Scourgifies to clean their hands of blood and potions. At the open doorway into the Library there was a brief fumble as they tried to decide how to hold hands before walking into the Order meeting. Eventually Hermione took his hand and laced her fingers into it before they straightened their shoulders and marched in.

The library was a different form of bedlam from the entryway, with magicks being loudly used left right and center. The fireplaces on both sides of the room were awash with green flame, with Order members hunched over in Floo calls, and yelling back reports to others in the room. Dedalus Diggle and Elphias Doge stood on the dusty and darkened drapes that had been recently ripped from the walls and left crumpled on the floor. The tall and wide expanse of windows were liberally papered with bits of parchment pinned in place by means of sticking charms, forming a grandly crude map of Great Britain. The notes listed the names and conditions of Wizarding and Magical settlements and sites, and a disturbing number of them were charmed to flash red. A quick look showed that there had been attacks at the Ministry of Magic, St. Mungo's Hospital, Hogsmead villiage, and Diagon Alley. A couple of pages listed attacks at sites Harry had never heard of before; the Ynys Avallach International Floo Terminal in Wales and the matching terminal in Burgandy, three Gringott's branches that Harry could see, and an island called Dunazkabey. There was even a flashing scrap of paper indicating an attack on Hogwarts itself.

"Oh Harry, it looks like the Blitz," Hermione gasped.

He shook his head, not sure exactly what she meant by that, but was too overwhelmed to ask. "How... how could they do all this in one night?"

"The Death Eaters appear to have rebuilt their numbers after their rout at Malfoy Manor," Dumbledore said as he appeared at Harry's elbow. "It is, as Miss Granger said, a lighting war."

"I thought most of them were captured?" Hermione's voice was strained.

"Hmm, yes, or killed," Dumbledore agreed easily. "Harry's sudden appearance in their midst crippled their organization, to be sure, And your own small group brought down a number of those Death Eaters now residing in Azkaban, Miss Granger. I can only assume our adversary has found a way to bring in 'outside help,' shall we say. And I am sure that Tom thinks it to be is ironic that they should coincide with the eve of Lughnasad."

"But why?" Harry couldn't look away from the huge and terrible map as he spoke. "Why attack everyone now, after hiding all this time?"

"Although it is only a guess, I would say that whatever Tom Riddle had hoped to achieve with his long silence is either in his grasp or irrelevant at this point." The Headmaster sounded tired and sad. "As for the rest of it, I believe he is is intending to broaden the scope of this war, by bringing his panic, mayhem, and terror to all of the Wizarding world. And now, perhaps a question of my own, Harry? Would you tell me what happened at your aunt's house tonight?"

Harry turned at this to look at Dumbledore, then swung back just as sharply as Hermione pulled on his hand. Her dark brown eyes were burning with unidentifiable emotions, and when it looked as though Harry was going to speak, she jumped in abruptly and with more volume than strictly necessary. "We were attacked by Death Eaters, about five of them I think. Harry and I fought them off, sir. When they Portkeyed out, two of them were fine, and two or three were injured. Then I checked the house, and we couldn't find the Dursleys. We were about to contact the Order when Professor Lupin arrived."

"Indeed? How remarkable." Dumbledore glanced between the two teens, grey eyebrows raised. Hermione ducked under this scrutiny before visibly shaking her head and meeting his gaze with perfectly calm equanimity. Harry looked over at her and smiled that she could pull that look of haughty confidence and certainty off at a time like this. He could only manage to meet the Headmaster's gaze in fits and starts.

Dumbledore's brilliant blue eyes seemed to bore into both of them, silently asking for more information. When neither seemed inclined to speak, Dumbledore clasped his hands behind his back and moved closer to the map, and continued. "Then the attack on the Dursleys was one of the largest tonight, Harry. In contrast to his first rise to power, tonight has seen the Death Eaters attack in small numbers, Apparating in and disappearing by Portkey. In the case of Ynys Avallach, they were even sighted arriving by broomstick. These attacks begin and end so quickly that neither the Order nor the Ministry has been able to respond in time."

Harry shook his head and squinted at the map alongside his mentor, trying to digest all of this. "So this isn't what they did twenty years ago?"

"No." Dumbledore looked over at Harry briefly, expectantly, before returning his gaze to the map.

Harry thought there was something he wasn't getting, and he turned to look at Hermione for support. She had one hand over her mouth, eyes wide with horror. That's when it clicked for him, and a great sinking sensation hollowed him out completely. He turned back to the map, numb with dread that the old Headmaster would agree with the next thing he said. Harry didn't want to, but he had to say this.

"He got this from me, didn't he? Voldemort, I mean. He... you said my 'sudden appearance' at the Manor hurt them! And Hermione's 'small group' arriving by Portkey! He... he came up with this because of me."

"I believe so, Harry." Dumbledore turned to take the suddenly shattered young man by the shoulder, and steer him gently to a seat.

Hermione flowed along after him immediately, her shock forgotten and her voice quite clear as she spoke. "Harry! Don't you dare blame yourself for this, so help me I'll hex you into next week!"

Harry looked up at this, shocked by the vehemence in her voice. She squatted down until she could look him evenly in the eye, her expression and voice softening as she continued. "We've read about wars in Professor Binn's class, remember? Every war, people found more effective ways to fight. And every time, people on the other side have emulated the winners. Look, even I've copied Voldemort's better ideas. The idea for the Galleons I charmed in the Defense Association? That's from those horrible Marks he brands his followers with. It's not your fault he's finally decided to crib a page from your book, Harry. It's not! You're the only person to keep handing him his hat, and it was inevitable that he'd have to get wise sooner or later."

Harry nodded along, pushed into agreeing with his girlfriend's reasoning.

Dumbledore watched as Doge levitated another parchment up to its place on the windows and stick it there with a quick stream of orange sparks. He sighed heavily, conjured a well padded ottoman for himself next to Harry, and settled himself on it. "It is simply unfortunate that the many vulnerable targets of the Wizarding world make your tactics far more effective for Voldemort than for us."

Hermione shot her Professor a bald glare that said in no uncertain terms that she felt he was not helping. Anything further she would have said was cut off by the the familiar clunk-clunk-clunk of Mad-Eye Moody stumping up behind them.

Dumbledore sighed. "Back from Dunazkabey so soon, Alastor?"

"Not much point to stomping around any longer," the aged ex-Auror said gruffly as he dragged a battered wooden chair up and settled onto it. "Everyone's gone or dead."

The lines in Albus' face seemed to deepen a bit at this. "As we expected then, but disheartening nonetheless."

Moody's lopsided and scarred face bent into something like a smile. "They only got a handful though. Rest spread all over hill and dale already."

Dumbledore nodded. "Fortunately Minister Weasley hasn't ignored everything he has been told."

Harry listened to all of this with a blank face, clearly confused. Finally Hermione finished dragging a chair over to his side, and he could lean over to whisper in her ear. "Do you know what they mean by Dunazkabey?"

Hermione wrinkled her noise at him as she whispered back. "How could you go to a school in the Scottish Highlands for six years and not learn at least some Gaelic?"

Harry shrugged, and she continued with a small shake of her head. "Harry, it means the Island Fortress of Azkaban."

Harry pulled back an inch to look at her full in the face, shocked and angry. "Another breakout?"

"Yes," Dumbledore said, leaning away from Moody to interject into Harry and Hermione's sidebar. "Although the Ministry had acted wisely for once in living memory and divvied up the captured Death Eaters amongst various places. As such Tom didn't retrieve the whole compliment of his imprisoned followers this time."

Hermione put a hand on Harry's arm and asked the questions he had on the tip of his tongue. "How many, sir? And who did Voldemort retrieve?"

"Only two." Dumbledore paused, looking very much as if he was weighing his words more carefully. "The younger Mister Malfoy and Rodolphus Lestrange.

"Well, it would take a shovel to retrieve the elder Mister Malfoy, wouldn't it?" Even Harry was surprised by the acid in his voice.

His Headmaster looked sad. "Indeed they would, Harry."

Harry shook his head, trying to lose the bite of venom he felt. It seemed so inappropriate, with Hermione sitting next to him, to be that bitter and vicious. It wasn't the kind of boyfriend he wanted to be for her. He rubbed at his scar. "Sorry. It's just... I'm getting fed up with fighting the same people over and over again."

"You and me both, kid." Moody was working his heavily carved artificial leg back and forth, looking as though it was bothering him. "Gotta remember, I caught Lestrange the first time sixteen years ago."

Hermione tried a weak smile. "On the bright side, Draco Malfoy isn't nearly as clever as he thinks he is. With any luck, he'll lead every Auror in the squad back to whatever hole they've crawled into."

Harry managed something between a nod and a shake of the head. "Do you remember back when we thought he was the brains of his little Slytherin bully squad?"

"He was. We just like Crabbe and Goyle a little better now, even if they aren't well-oiled intellects." She smirked at him, for a moment. Then her dark eyes resumed their serious expression and she turned to the Headmaster. "Sir, what about all the people here in the house? Why hasn't everyone been moved to St. Mungo's yet?"

Dumbledore gestured briefly at the wall of parchment "St. Mungo's was, I am afraid, one of Voldemort's targets tonight."

Alastor grunted. "Still in business, thank Merlin. But it'll be a bit before they can start taking in the wounded again. And those miserable masked bastards hit three other places right here in London tonight."

The Headmaster cleared his throat. "Indeed. As such, the Ministry has found itself needing a temporary shelter and hospital, which Grimmauld Place is somewhat obviously providing."

"We can help," Harry said earnestly, and Hermione nodded in agreement.

For the first time that night Dumbledore smiled a little, some of the old twinkle returning to his eyes. "From what I have seen thus far, the two of you have already been helping."

Hermione shot Harry a brief look, and took the lead in the conversation again. "What can we do?"

"For now, get some rest, the both of you," Dumbledore replied gently. "And as soon as practicable, leave Grimmauld place and do not return."

"What?" Harry started at this. "But we can-"

"Harry! Harry, my boy," Dumbledore said soothingly, a hand up to forestall further protests. "I understand your desire to do all that you can, I do. But you must realize that the Fidelius Charm that had protected this house had to be removed before it could be used as a hospital. Consequently, both of you are much less safe here than you used to be."

Hermione's response was stiffly proper. "We don't care."

"You most certainly do, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said with a sad smile. "You simply will not allow that care to stand between you and what you feel needs to be done. Admirable, both of you. But please know that I very much care what happens to both of you, and although we must make do for tonight, please allow yourselves the thought of finding a safe refuge until the first of September."

Harry tried not to look bitter. "Will you be sending me to Hogwarts, then?"

He shook his head, his long silver hair surrounding him. "No, Harry. The elves and staff are all away from the castle, helping to repair and ward the many places Tom has harmed tonight. Once they are done, Hogwarts herself needs certain repairs, following his rather futile bid to enter by force, and I am certain that elf-magic or no, we will be hard pressed to finish the work before school resumes."

Harry shook his head. "Where will I go, then? The Burrow is closed up for the summer."

"Indeed, we do seem to have a small problem on our hands." Dumbledore smiled indulgently and stood, his richly embroidered robes sweeping about him. "However, I do enjoy tackling the small problems, Harry, as that I can usually resolve them. Let's sleep for now, and perhaps by light of day, some answer or another will have struck me."

Harry squinted at his Headmaster, suddenly certain that the aged wizard already knew what he wanted to do, and was postponing telling him until tomorrow. Harry decided that his head already hurt, it had been a terrifying and long night, and perhaps just this once he could wait for answers until the morning. "Alright, sir."

"Good," Dumbledore nodded with a wink. "The Aurors are stationed on the the first floor, with the Order members sleeping on the second and third floors. Perhaps you can find yourselves some space left on the third floor, then?"

Hermione nodded, and led Harry from the room.

Alastor's rough growl turned him around just before he left the room. "And Potter? I talked to Tonks on the way in. Remember to conjure two sleeping bags."

As the import of Moody's subtle emphasis sunk in, Harry flushed. Deciding that he'd heard from Hermione something or other about what the better part of valour was, he left the room rapidly.

Out in the main hallway, Hermione seemed determined to drag Harry upstairs as fast as possible. But he had six years of Quidditch in his favor, and managed to steer her into the hall lavatory and quickly latched the door behind them. A second of though, and he quickly sealed the door and silenced it as well.

Hermione turned to face him, her mouth quirked as she leaned a hip on the vanity. "This won't exactly shut Mad-Eye and Tonks up, Harry."

He leaned back against the bathroom door. "Up there, we'll be surrounded by the Order. We won't be able to talk, and who knows what Dumbledore will do tomorrow."

Hermione sighed. "You want to talk about why I don't want to tell the Order about your mysterious resurrection."

"Not really." Harry grinned a little at her wide-eyed shock. It wasn't often he could completely surprise her. "I'm starting to get used to the Wizarding world changing their tune from hero and villain and back again every week. Who knows what they'd say about me if they found out about this."

Hermione screwed her face up in worry. "Harry, this is bigger than the whole Boy-Who-Lived nonsense. This... this whatever it is that happened tonight, Harry, it's out there with Merlin and Gryffindor. What if the Ministry decided that this means you're immortal? They might stop fighting Voldemort, and say 'let's have Harry deal with it all'?"

Harry started to worry, his eyes darting from side to side. "I can't be immortal! The prophecy said one of us has to die at the hand of the other, so it probably means that some random Death Eater can't kill me, that's all. And I know he's a prat, but Percy wouldn't-"

"Harry, Percy is the one who sent those Aurors into the Great Hall last year." She twisted her hands together as she spoke. "He nearly got me killed, because he's completely out of his depth, and I think he'd do anything to find a way out. And I'm sure you're not immortal Harry, but who knows what people will do, what they'll ask you to do, if they find out about tonight."

Harry forced his nervousness down with a deep breath and stepped up to Hermione. "Okay. I hadn't exactly thought about all that, but I already agreed with you about not telling anyone about tonight."

"You're not thinking of telling Dumbledore?" Her voice was a tiny thing.

"No." Harry tentatively touched the back of her hand, not sure if holding her hand was alright with her just now. "I just wanted to see how you were doing. You know, after everything tonight."

Hermione stared at him silently, and words just kept falling out of him as though he couldn't stop speaking. "It's just... I can't imagine thinking you were dead. I don't know what I'd do, and I know you actually had to think that for a minute there, and I know it's not really my fault, but I'm really sorry you had to deal with that. And if you want to talk about it, we can, and I wanted you to be able to, you know."

"I can't loose you again, Harry." Hermione looked down as she spoke, focusing instead on where her hand was absently playing with the collar on his shirt.

Harry trapped her hand, and smiled. "You won't. I promise."

Without preamble, Harry leaned down to kiss his girlfriend. Hermione pulled her head back at the last moment, and their faces stalled an inch apart. Hesitantly, she leaned into him, and very briefly touched her lips to his. Harry leaned back, and found that she had her eyes open the whole time.

Harry bit his lip. "Hermione? Do you... Um, do you not like me anymore?"

Hermione's hand moved from his collar to his chin as she shook her bushy head vigorously. "I'm sorry Harry. Of course I love you."

"Okay." Harry stroked the back of her head, not sure what was going on just now.

With a suddenness that seemed out of place, Hermione surged against Harry in a desperate kiss. One small hand twisted itself in his messy hair, the other still grasped his collar as her teeth collided against his. Somewhere in the middle of it all, Harry realized their cheeks were wet with tears. Eventually the burst of hunger in their kiss wound down, and Harry moved his hands to safer territory from where they'd wandered of their own accord.

Hermione pulled back and rested her forehead against Harry's, breathing deeply with her eyes closed. "I'm sorry, it's just... I just realized my boyfriend came back from the dead. It's... confusing."

Harry's voice was rough. "Anything to go on a proper date with you."

"I'm shaking, Harry." Hermione sniffled. "Why wasn't I shaking before, and why start now. It's ridiculous!"

He kissed her forehead, knowing enough at least to realize she wasn't looking for an answer to her questions. Instead he tried to smooth down her terribly messy hair and just be there next to her. "Shake all you want, it's okay. I usually get jittery right before something happens. Ron goes hysterical right afterwards. Only fitting you wait a bit before-"

"Ron," Hermione gasped. "Oh no! I sent an owl to Ron!"

"Huh," Harry asked intelligently as his girlfriend shoved him aside and fumbled at the door.

It was still sealed, and Hermione fought to get her wand out of her skirt pocket. Hurriedly she unsealed the doorway and flung the lavatory door open. Both she and Harry tumbled out, flushed and wild-haired.

Auror Dawlish was leaning against the dark and dusty wall of the main hall just outside the bathroom door, the tapping of his foot suggesting that he'd been waiting for the room become unoccupied. Hermione very nearly sent him sprawling as she collided with him, before caroming off down the hall.

Harry started after her, but Dawlish's rough drawl stopped him. "I never figured that annoying busybody of yours for a tumble in a bathroom. Does she like men in uniform?"

Instead of following Hermione, Harry spun in place and dropped the most solid punch he could land on Dawlish's jaw. It lacked the grace Hermione managed when decking Draco, but it was enough to bounce the large Auror off the wall. Dawlish drew his wand, and wiped a trace of blood from his split lip as he eyed Harry speculatively.

"Striking an officer of the Peace?" Dawlish smiled. "Thanks, Potter. Tonight's looking up."

Harry put a hand to his pocket, realizing suddenly he didn't have his wand. There was a second's pause before the fight erupted in full measure.

Hermione had already reached the other end of the hall, and was in no position to do anything about Harry's situation as the front door to Grimmauld Place was rudely thrown open. The injured Aurors all pulled wands on the intruders, nearly taking Ron's head off as he stormed in, tears running down his face. Behind him were an equally devastated Ginny and and surprisingly calm Luna.

Hermione skidded to a stop, trying to gesture with one hand for Ron to remain silent, and with the other for the Aurors to lower their wands. "Ron! He's with us! Don't cast anything!"

Ron barely noticed the Auror's wands trained upon him, seeing only Hermione before him. "Harry's dead," he managed to choke out.

"He's fine," Hermione hissed in a near panic.

"What's this?" Hermione and Ron both turned to see Minister Percy Weasley struggling to his feet nearby. "Harry's dead?"

Ron lunged at his older brother, clipping an Auror who tried to interpose himself between the two. "You! If you'd done anything bloody useful in your sodding life, maybe he'd have been protected!"

Hermione and Luna dragged Ron backwards, as one of the Aurors pulled Percy the opposite direction. Hermione shoved herself between the two struggling redheads, and dragged Ron's head down until his ear was level with her mouth. She whispered to him. "Ron! Shut up, Harry's fine!"

Ron reared back at this, still nearly yelling. "What? But your letter-"

Hermione concealed a solid punch to his arm as she pretended to push him further away from Minister Percy. "Shh!"

Into the midst of the mêlée, Harry himself arrived. He pushed easily past the Aurors, and took hold of Ron opposite Hermione. "Ron! Are you okay?"

Ron stared down at his dark haired friend for a moment, before sweeping him up into a huge hug. "Harry," he whooped. "You're alive!"

"Not if you keep squeezing me like that!"

Ron blushed to his ear tips and dropped Harry unceremoniously. Harry wobbled unsteadily to his feet before nearly loosing his balance again as Ginny hit him hard from one side. He wasn't the least bit sure what she was saying, but she was definitely trying to talk, cry, and hit him all at once.

Harry had barely managed to calm her down and escape with relatively few bruises when he found himself swung about to face Minister Percy.

The other tall redhead in the room was looking down his nose with what Harry suspected was an attempt at an appearance of authority, utterly ruined by his mop of curly red hair and ludicrous air of self importance. "Mister Potter, can you explain why my youngest brother just tried to attack me?"

"Isn't that everyone's response to you," Hermione sniffed at him, and tried dragging everyone away from the Aurors at the front door.

Somehow, Percy held tight to the thread of the conversation and refused to let go. "Now see here, why were they thinking he was dead?"

Suddenly Luna stepped out from behind Ron, and managed a complicated multi-part curtsy directed at the Minister of Magic that ended up stepping on the feet of the nearest Auror, flicking Percy in the face, and landing her wand neatly behind her ear, and somewhat accidentally pointing dead between the Minister's eyes. "I'm sorry about all the ruckus, as I could have easily started all this myself. Earlier today I took Ronald with me looking for Tadfoals in the lake outside Ottery St. Catchpole, which if you think about, really is a very silly name for a village. But the lake doesn't even have a name, not even a silly one, which is odd, since the village has three. If I'd been naming things, I'd have spared at least one for the lake, even if I couldn't find any Tadfoals.

"But while I had my head in the lake, something went running past along the forest edge, and while I didn't get a chance to see it, from Ronald's description I knew it was definitely a Blood-sucking Bugbear, or perhaps a boarhound. But the more I think about it, the more I think it could have been a Grim, and as we all know, Ronald has had several encounters with a Grim, or at the very least a completely innocent escaped Ministry prisoner who looked confusingly much like a Grim, so he definitely could have thought it was a Grim. And with all the attacks tonight, and the Grim in the forest, and the propensity for everyone in your family to worry a very great deal about everyone else, I'd imagine it was only natural to worry about Harry's safety.

"Incidentally Minister, I still think you should have the Heliotropes look into Azkaban prison, since holding people without trial for twelve years seems not altogether on the up and up, especially when they're innocent, don't you?"

Luna stopped abruptly, her large grey eyes blinking slightly at Minister Weasley from a very short distance away. To Harry it seemed as if she hadn't taken a single breath throughout the whole monologue, and he wondered idly if all of her seemly inane rants were actually this bloody brilliant.

Minister Percy goggled at her before shaking his head. He looked over Luna's dirty blond head to eye Ron suspiciously before clearing his throat. "For all the terribly poor lapses in judgment you've displayed over the years 'Ronald,' this is by far the most egregious."

Hermione managed to tow both Harry and Ron away from the door. Harry pulled loose a few feet away, and tossed a wand to Percy who couldn't catch it before it clattered to the floor. Harry smirked. "You might want to give that back to Dawlish when he wakes up."

With that Harry let himself be marched away and up the stairs. Behind him there was the unmistakable yelp of Ginny giving her older brother a taste of her opinion. Shortly thereafter, Ginny ran up behind them and followed them upstairs, her long red hair swinging behind her like a pennant.

Luna sighed. "I tried telling them you weren't dead, but they didn't believe me."

Ginny hit Harry again. "I am so mad at both of you, I can't even tell you!"

Hermione turned around briefly, her jaw tight. "Wait until we get someplace more... secure."

Harry gave them a resigned shrug. "We've got a lot to talk about."

Hermione gave him a worried look. "And do I want to know what you did to Dawlish?"

"No." Harry twinkled slightly. "But I promise it wasn't permanent."

Ron pushed open the first door he came to on the third floor, and peered about for passersby. "Okay, everybody in here. I want to hear about Harry not being dead, and I want to hear about it right bloody now!"

Hermione rolled her eyes as they all filed in, and quickly silenced the door. She reached into the other pocket of her skirt, and handed Harry his wand, so he could continue warding the door, as she set out to make the barren room a little more comfortable.

"You all might want to sit down," Hermione began. "It's been a bit of an evening so far."