Harry Potter and the Labyrinth of the Mind

HARRY POTTER AND THE LABYRINTH OF THE MIND

Chapter 6 - Home to Hogwarts

Harry sat, watching the increasingly rugged scenery flash past the windows of the Hogwarts Express. Ron and Hermione were still in one of the forward carriages at a prefects' meeting, but Harry wasn't alone. Ginny and Dean Thomas sat in one corner of the compartment, Neville Longbottom across from them, talking over their summer holidays. Dean and his family had been to the East Indies and he had a stack of muggle photos of his trip. Luna Lovegood had drifted in, as well, although Harry hadn't exactly noticed when that happened. She was just, sort of, there, the ever-present copy of The Quibbler in hand. So, while Harry had plenty of company, he was sitting, instead, by the window, mulling over the start of a new school year.

The day had begun predictably enough. At the Order Headquarters, Harry, Ron and Ginny had been up quite early, nibbling toast as they roamed the house, searching out last items and stowing them away in their trunks. As usual, there was a last, harried, sweep of the premises by Mrs. Weasley to gather odd socks and textbooks, followed by a nervous bustle to activate the portkey in time to get them all to the appointed spot before the muggle taxis arrived. Mr. Weasley and Tonks had both taken the day off to accompany them to King's Cross and Tonks, in one of her more spectacular displays of lack of coordination, dropped on end of Ginny's trunk just as it was being loaded into the boot of a taxi. Spell books, potions ingredients, and assorted odd-looking (at least, to muggle eyes) objects scattered across the ground, right at the feet of the startled taxi driver. A few remarks - not entirely convincing, Harry felt - to the effect that Ginny was studying drama and theater set design and the luggage was stowed at last.

Arriving on platform 9 ¾ had been quite different from previous years. The first thing Harry saw as he came through the barrier was the line of Ministry Aurors checking over students, their families, and their luggage before allowing anyone to approach the train.

"As if one of them might be smuggling You-Know-Who off to school among their textbooks," Tonks snorted. Ginny blanched just a bit.

Harry turned to Mr. Weasley with a questioning look.

"Just a precaution, Harry. Though really, I think it is more a show for the benefit of the parents. The Ministry has been receiving quite a few owls with various concerns about the students' safety."

The second thing that struck Harry, quite literally, was a blurred tangle of brown hair that leaped from the steps of the train car, wrapping him and Ron in a crushing hug. The blur resolved itself into a very excited Hermione Granger.

"Oh Ron! Harry! I'm so glad you're here at last. Remus and I have been waiting for ages. Hurry, get your things aboard. I've saved a compartment for us. The train's about to go and we've loads to catch up on."

Harry looked around and finally located Remus Lupin in the bustle of the train platform. He stood a bit apart from the others and Harry was appalled to see more than one unfriendly look bestowed upon the quiet-faced man. Despite the looks, Remus stood impassively, head up and shoulders back. The innate dignity somehow made his robes seem less shabby, the premature lines on his face less harsh. Still, Harry thought he could see the slight clench of the jaw as yet another angry, suspicious look was cast Remus' way.

With some last hugs, handshakes and admonitions to take care, they made it aboard the train as the final whistle blew. Stowing away their belongings in the compartment Hermione had saved, the two prefects hurried off to their meeting. Ginny, who seemed quite satisfied not to have been named a prefect, dropped into a seat with Dean and watched her departing brother with some sympathy.

"Ugh. Can you imagine being stuck in a stuffy old meeting already? We haven't even got to school yet."

Harry had noticed a change in the way his fellow students looked at him this year. As he had seen after The Daily Prophet published the Ministry's acknowledgment of Voldemort's return, many students were going out of their way, trying, a bit too hard perhaps, to show that they believed Harry and that he was, again, the Boy Who Lived - heroic in their eyes. Harry felt this was a sad omen for the coming year. The last thing he felt he wanted to face was an entirely new round of attention. People gawking at his scar was bad enough, but he really dreaded any questions of what had happened that night at the Department of Mysteries. So, he sat at the window of the compartment, brooding.

The snack trolley was making its rounds by the time Ron and Hermione returned to them. Over a stack of cauldron cakes, they filled Harry in on the school news.

"Security on the castle, this year, is as tight as I've ever seen it," said Hermione. "Even prefects will be taking one shift of patrol duty each week. Of course, the Head Boy and Girl will take more than that, despite their N.E.W.T. revision."

"I'm not sure I feel safer knowing the prefects are patrolling. I mean, Malfoy is a prefect," Ron stated, his lip curling in disgust.

"So, they've let him stay on, and as a prefect?" Ginny questioned indignantly from her corner.

"Ginny," answered Harry, "you know how Dumbledore is. Until he shows up with a Dark Mark just like Daddy's, Malfoy stays a prefect."

"I have a feeling we ought to keep our eyes on him, though," said Hermione. "He didn't have anything to say to anyone at the meeting. Not even an insult. He just sat and glared at everyone."

"Of course, he glared," commented Luna, lowering her paper. "Just think how many of the students here have read all about his father being in Azkaban. You realize, too, that he blames us - Harry especially."

Harry frowned at Luna. It had never been a secret that Malfoy and Harry didn't get on at all and it had been plain to Harry at the end of last term that Draco did, indeed, blame him for Lucius Malfoy's arrest. Still, Luna's calm, matter-of-fact tone in saying so grated on his nerves.

There was quite a lot that Harry, Ron and Ginny wanted to tell Hermione about their summer - Annwyl King, werewolves, and the Order, but with Luna, Neville and Dean there with them, stories would have to wait. So, while the others chatted about their holidays, Harry settled back in his seat and dozed off.

Harry was walking along a rather busy street. While nothing looked familiar to him, he knew, somehow, that this was an area of muggle London. It was late afternoon and people were leaving the shops and their jobs. As in Hogsmeade, Harry had several companions. They ignored the muggle passersby initially, but once they reached an open-air market, Harry and his companions paused. Looking around, they spotted an unusual figure at a nearby fruit stand.

Harry tried to cry out a warning, for the figure was none other than Mundungus Fletcher. Just as Harry opened his mouth, a stab of pain struck his scar causing him to yell in shock and surprise. Vaguely, he saw Mundungus turn, wand drawn. Another figure was running to join him and Harry could almost swear it was Tonks. The pain was intense now and Harry sank to his knees as he felt a hand on his shoulder, shaking him roughly...

"...Harry, come on, mate! Harry, please..."

"...Oh, Harry, please wake up! Oh please..."

"Come on, Ron, help me get him up on the seat."

Harry felt hands gripping him under the arms and hefting him from the floor to the seat. Forcing his eyes open against the dull throb in his head, he saw the blurry faces of Ron and Ginny leaning over him. Another blur which must have been Hermione reached forward, gently setting his glasses on his face. Harry blinked, bewildered, as the compartment came into focus.

"Harry, was it another dream? You fell off the seat, screaming and holding your head. What was..." Hermione's sentence was cut off when the train lurched to an abrupt halt.

Ron, Ginny and Hermione, standing in front of Harry, were thrown backward into the facing seats. Luna, Dean and Neville were tossed into a tangled heap on the floor. Groaning, all seven of them came to their feet.

"Ron," said Hermione anxiously, "maybe we'd better go see what happened." She turned and headed toward the door.

Ginny had her forehead pressed against the window, looking along the length of the train.

"Hey! The train is being attacked! There are Death Eaters out there!" Ginny shrieked, whirling away from the window.

"Come on!" yelled Harry, leaping for the door. "Grab as many of the D.A. Members as you can find."

They burst into from the compartment and into bedlam. Students were screaming and trying to run, but the narrow corridor was really too packed for anyone to move very far. Signaling to Ron for a boost, Harry swung up on an outcropping of molding around a compartment window. It was a precarious hold, but it put him head and shoulders about the panicked crowd.

"Sonorus," he whispered, wand directed at his throat. Then, raising his voice, Harry addressed the students. "Everyone, please! I need all D.A. Members in the corridor now. All others, please go back into the compartments and see that the doors and windows are locked."

To Harry's surprise and relief, everyone obeyed without comment. He jumped down from his perch and, using his wand at his throat again, whispered, "Quietus." Looking at the ten D.A. Members now gathered around him, he did some quick planning.

"Ginny, you and Ron come with me," Harry said. "We're going forward to secure as much of the train as possible. Hermione, take Dean and Luna and head toward the rear. Collect as many D.A. members as you can find as you go. Make sure doors and windows are locked and keep them that way. Hex anyone who doesn't look right to you and, for goodness sake, remember to use shield charms. The rest of you, stay here and make sure everything is well locked. In two minutes, half of you go after Hermione, Luna and Dean and the others follow after us. Right, let's move then."

Wands drawn, Harry, Ron and Ginny ran forward through the carriage. Pausing at the door to the next carriage, Harry peered cautiously through the glass. There was chaos in the corridor, but he could see Ernie MacMillan and Hannah Abbot trying to lock doors and windows and send the more hysterical students back to their compartments. Waving and tapping on the glass caught Hannah's attention and she unlocked the door, letting them in.

"Am I glad to see you three," she gasped as she relocked the door. "There are Death Eaters in the next car! We couldn't tell how many. Michael Corner, Susan Bones, and Cho Chang went forward as soon as the train stopped, but we haven't seen them since."

Harry glanced around to the two pale, freckled faces staring back at him. He swallowed with difficulty and turned back to Hannah.

"Right, then. You four stay here and keep everything locked. You should have some help in a moment. I'll go see what I can find farther forward."

"WHAT? Harry, what are you saying?"

"Have you gone completely round the twist?"

"Absolutely not! Don't be a prat!"

All three were arguing against Harry when Ernie approached. Quickly sizing things up, he put in his two knuts' worth.

"We're wasting time. Harry, we're not letting you go alone, so everyone just stop yelling and let's get moving."

Frowning, but not wanting to spend any more time in useless wrangling, Harry led the way to the door of the next carriage. Ducking low to avoid being seen, Harry and Ginny pressed their ears to the door, trying to hear what was going on inside. They weren't able to hear much aside from some muffled shouts and thumps. Ron risked a peek through the glass and gave a low whistle.

"Fighting," he said. "At least five Death Eaters. Can't be sure. How do you want to go in?"

"Well, it isn't as though we can take them much by surprise. The know how many of us are on the train," answered Ginny. "I say we just barge in and start hexing."

The others merely nodded. With all wands at the ready, Harry reached out and flung the door wide. Ducking a few wild jets of light, all five of them charged forward.

Harry could see that his schoolmates had been defending themselves with all they had, but despite being outnumbered, the Death Eaters' superior experience was allowing them to gain an advantage. While most of the younger students had backed into compartments as directed by upper years, the corridor and several open doorways were blocked by the bodies of unconscious students. At least, Harry hoped they were only unconscious...

Ginny and Hannah raced forward, casting hexes and stunning spells as fast as they could gasp out the words. Harry swept along just behind, firing curses over their shoulders and shouting for both girls to get behind him. Ron and Ernie, each being considerable taller, brought up the rear, easily flinging spells over the others' heads.

From the intensity of the fighting, Harry judged that the attackers had boarded the train at this carriage, planning to divide and go in opposite directions along the train. Indeed, they had pretty effectively cut a fair number of the passengers from reaching the other. What they hadn't reckoned on was the skill of some of the D. A. members. Harry allowed himself a fleeting moment of pride as he saw Hannah and Ginny, working together, bring down a Death Eater with a pair of particularly nasty hexes.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw another Death Eater make a run for the next car forward, Cho Chang right behind him. It suddenly occurred to Harry that he had seen no sign of the adults he knew to be in the first car of the train. There must have been at least two simultaneous attacks and one must have been on that first carriage. Since there were only two carriages forward from where they were now fighting, there must be a sizable number of Death Eaters just ahead. Harry ran after Cho, hindered by bodies and more fighting, shouting a warning. Ginny and Michael Corner must have had the same thought at the same moment, for as Harry finally made it to the door and flung himself into the next car, they were at his heels.

Entering the corridor was like plunging into an ice bath. With a sickening flop in his stomach and an all too familiar buzzing in his ears, Harry realized they'd brought a dementor. Seeing Ginny and Michael dropping back, he called out to them.

"Patronus! Summon a Patronus!"

Desperately trying to ignore the voices and images in his head - his mother's voice, Voldemort's horrible cackle, the image of Cedric's blank, lifeless eyes, the sight of Sirius falling back through the arch - Harry staggered forward, his sight blurring and darkening.

His vision cleared for a split second and he nearly fainted at what he saw. Before him stood a tall, terrifying dementor, its hood pushed slightly back, its horrible, scaly hands gripping the shoulder and neck of a limp figure it raised to its face.

Cho Chang.

Harry heard the rattling intake of breath as he leveled his wand, bellowing, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!!!!"

As his stag Patronus leaped toward Cho, another silver Patronus sped from the opposite end of the corridor. It was a great hawk-like beast with a dragon tail, a powerful hawk body and wings, and a dragon head. Both silver beats charged the dementor which dropped its prey and disappeared.

Then, in a flurry of popping sounds, the car was full of Ministry Aurors and medical personnel. Wild flashes of spells and more popping and suddenly, it was quite still. Three Death Eaters lay stunned on the floor. The others appeared to have escaped.

Harry hardly knew how, but he managed to reach Cho where she lay in the center of the car. She was lying, looking straight up, her eyes vacant and her jaw slack. Michael, who was still at Harry's side, dropped to his knees beside her.

"Cho?... Please look at me... Cho?"

On Harry's other side, Ginny turned away, hands to her face and shaking with choking sobs. From the other direction, Annwyl King stepped forward. Harry's mouth dropped.

"Hhh... how... where...?"

"I sensed trouble," Annwyl said, simply.

"Was that your Patronus then?" Harry asked.

She nodded in answer. Kneeling down beside Michael, she placed a gentle arm on his shoulders, drawing him away from Cho.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

A ministry medi-witch approached at that moment. Looking down at Cho, her eyes grew wide.

"Oh Merlin... has she... has she been..."

"Kissed," Annwyl said, her voice flat. "Yes, she has. And, I'm afraid this young man," she gestured at Michael who was staring dazedly at Cho, "is slipping into shock."

"Oh... I've never..." The medi-witch shook herself and regained some composure. "I'll tend to them both. Perhaps you had best see these other two away from here. Please be sure they both eat some of this." She handed Annwyl a slab of chocolate and turned to Michael.

Annwyl rose and, taking Harry and Ginny each by the arm, led them back along the train. They passed medical people reviving students, healing numerous minor injuries and feeding everyone chocolate.

When they reached their own compartment, Ginny turned in automatically and slumped into a seat. Harry walked straight to the window and stared out, unseeing, his mind whirling.

And another one gone...

Wordlessly, Annwyl broke apart the chocolate and handed some to each of them. Ginny ate, quite unconscious of her actions, while Harry just stood, chocolate melting in his hand, staring out the window.

Sounds behind him told him the others were returning. Ron was limping a bit from a newly mended sprain and Hermione sported a good-sized plaster on her left shoulder which was, evidently, mending a cut. The others, though exhausted and frightened, seemed unharmed.

Ron exclaimed at seeing Annwyl and introduced her to Hermione, Dean, Luna and Neville. He then asked the question Harry had begun before.

"Annw... er, Professor, how did you get here? I thought you were at the castle."

"I was," she replied, "but I got a bad feeling. So, I grabbed my broom and came along to find the train."

Why didn't you just Apparate?" asked Neville.

"I didn't know exactly where you were. The train was moving after all. Well, you can't Apparate without a precise location, so I followed the tracks until I reached the train."

While speaking, Annwyl rose and looked down the corridor in each direction.

"It looks as though the Ministry will soon have you underway again and with some Aurors to accompany you. Since they will be here, I shall certainly not be needed. In light of this, I believe it would be best for me to report to the headmaster. You should be reaching the school in under two hours. Until then..." With a pop, Annwyl Disapparated.

"Ron," Luna spoke, turning her overlarge eyes on him, "why did you call her Professor? Is she the new Defense teacher? How do you know her?"

"Er," Ron searched for a plausible story and Ginny spoke up, saving him.

"We don't know if she's the Defense professor, actually. Ron, Harry and I met her over the summer. She's someone my dad knows. We were just told to call her Professor."

"What did she mean when she said she had a bad feeling?" questioned Hermione thoughtfully. "She must have left Hogwarts before the attack even began. How do you suppose she really knew about it?"

Just then, two Aurors entered and requested statements from them all. Harry learned the others had experiences similar to his own up until the encounter with the dementor. As he and Ginny told their version of events, the others gasped, not having already heard about Cho. Hermione's eyes were blurred by tears and Ginny's voice cracked as she spoke. Dean put a comforting arm around her shoulders and, for once, Ron was too distracted to notice.

Harry was surprised and rather appalled at how little he seemed to be feeling. There was no pain, no horror, no rage - only a flat, empty sensation. His own reason told him it was the effect of shock, but he was not soothed by the notion. He felt quite vacant.

There was very little journey left by this time, and schools robes were donned in almost total silence. Only after they were seated again did Hermione speak.

"Harry, what form did Professor King's Patronus take?"

Harry described the strange dragon-hawk and she frowned in thought.

"Oh, that's an Aresean Hawk," supplied Luna, conversationally. "They are quite rare and powerful, but not very nice, actually."

"They are rare," said Hermione impatiently, "because they are completely mythical, even in the magical world. The Aresean Hawk or Dragon Hawk was the special pet of Ares, the Greek god of war. Ares was said to have sent it into battle before the Greek armies as sort of advance guard. Instead of fire, it breathed a pestilence and its tail was tipped with poisonous barbs."

"I don't remember ever hearing that before," remarked Dean.

"That's because it is a load of skrewt droppings even by mythological standards," Hermione replied. "I can't imagine why her Patronus would take that form."

"Wait," said Harry, "didn't the Romans give Ares another name?"

"Yes, they called him Mars."

* * *

It was a particularly subdued group that wended its way up to the castle an hour later. Hagrid, obviously shaken by the news of the attack, had done his best to be very gentle with the bedraggled, quaking first years. Unfortunately, even a kindly, gentle Hagrid could be quite alarming and Harry saw several weeping openly as they climbed into the boats for their trip across the lake.

Harry couldn't remember the Great Hall so quiet at a Sorting Feast. True, people were talking, but it was not the laughing chatter on would expect to hear. Rather, it was an anxious hum of murmurs and whispers. As he took his seat at the Gryffindor table next to Ron and Hermione, Harry noticed Michael Corner was not in the Hall. Several others were missing as well, and he figured they must be in the hospital wing with Madame Pomfrey.

The faculty was whispering, as well. Professors Sinistra and Vector were in close conversation while Madame Hooch and Professor Sprout whispered alternately with Professor Flitwick. Professor Snape, Harry noticed, spoke to no one, but glared around the Hall, his angular face drawn into a frown. Annwyl King sat at one end of the table, somewhat apart, not speaking, her face unreadable. Dumbledore was silent also, watching the students file into the Hall.

At last, Hagrid appeared at his place at the table and Professor McGonagall rose to bring in the first year class. She reentered carrying a stool and the battered Sorting Hat, a line of still very frightened-looking students trailing behind. Once the hat had been placed on the stool there was a brief but weighty silence. Then a rip opened along its brim and the hat began its song.

Far too many years ago

For me to truly count,

Two witches and two wizards

A mighty quest did mount.

They sought to build a magic school,

A haven for those gifts

Which, when trained with skill and care and heart

Were sure our world would lift.

Badger, eagle, lion, snake,

Their value each did show

For traits of spirit, soul and skill

By which, their students, know.

The loyal and kind would labor

For sweet Hufflepuff,

But Slytherin, he did require

His be of sterner stuff.

To ambition and cunning, he did incline

Though others sought them not.

Fair Ravenclaw, the intellect

Her attention always caught.

Bold Gryffindor, he plunged right in,

Took to himself to teach

Those ones who did not fear to tread,

Who leapt into the breach.

And though the Founders, gone, may be,

Their passions do not fade

And I am here to sort you

For the houses must be made.

But, yet again, I warn you

As I have done before.

Destruction looms if we divide

And friendships grow no more.

So, though I sort you into groups

And set these groups apart,

I bid you all to cling together -

One Hogwarts' beating heart.

For danger lurks and with it choices,

Choices hard to make.

Though the easy way may draw you,

Our lifeblood, it will take.

In mind be strong, in heart be true

And darkness, follow not.

For if you choose despair and pain

Then, ruin be our lot.

And now, I'll tell you where you'll be

Just where you ought to dwell.

But, pledge to let your heart be guided

By Life's greatest binding spell.

Harry didn't even hear the first years being sorted. He was vaguely aware that the sorting was not the raucous celebration it generally was. Instead, he was caught in a burning whirl of anger at the Sorting Hat's words.

Choices, he thought bitterly, what choice was Cho, or any other person on that train, given? And Sirius - coming out of hiding to protect his godson wasn't the easy way, yet ruin was certainly the result. So, what hope have any of us got?

Harry was pulled from his painful musings when he felt a hand on his arm. Turning, Harry met Hermione's eyes fixed on him with concern. Somehow, she must have guessed what he'd been thinking.

"Harry, I... oh, Harry...," she whispered, tears swimming in her eyes.

He didn't answer, but covered her hand with his and, with a gentle squeeze, removed it from his arm. He then looked away toward Dumbledore who had risen to speak. Seeing the old headmaster, Harry remembered the suffering on the lined face the night of Annwyl's return. The pain was just as plain to see now, but, perhaps due to his own shock and anguish from the horrors of the day, Harry was unable to feel anything for his professor. He realized it with a dull sort of dread.

"I will dispense with the welcoming this evening," said Dumbledore sadly, "and, instead, attempt to express my heartfelt gratitude to have you, at last, safe within these walls and my sincere sorrow and sympathy for the fear and pain you have experienced. For tonight, I think we will all be the better for some food and some sleep. The rest may keep until tomorrow."

With that, the tables filled with a magnificent repast to which no one was actually able to do justice. The dinner was as brief as it was quiet. In a very short time, the Hall emptied and the prefects led their houses off to their common rooms.

Harry was halfway to Gryffindor tower when he remembered the dream he'd had on the train. The attack had driven it from his thoughts almost completely. He separated himself from some other students and took a shortcut which would lead him toward Dumbledore's office. Although it was very much in the past already, Harry supposed the headmaster would want to know. He was in the corridor outside the Defense classroom when he heard the voice of one he most definitely did not want to encounter. Professor Snape was just around the corner and, though no words were discernible, it seemed he wasn't alone, nor was he happy. Harry was just about to backtrack to another, albeit, less direct route, to see Dumbledore when he caught the other voice. The voice of Annwyl King caused Harry to tiptoe cautiously forward, listening intently.

"I am not answerable to you, Professor," Annwyl said coldly.

"You are mistaken, Professor King. As a member of the Order - in good standing, might I add - it is my inarguable duty to look into any suspicious happenings related to the attack on the Hogwarts Express. Inasmuch as your behavior was quite suspicious, you are, indeed, subject to my questioning. Now, tell me how you happened to reach the train before even the Ministry was aware of any trouble."

"Professor Snape, I am sure you have already been made aware of my ability to sense highly emotionally charged events. When I feel such a thing, I tend to act upon it promptly."

"Have you a similar passel of hogwash to explain the highly unusual Patronus you conjured?" Snape growled.

"Really, Professor, as the instructor in Defense Against the Dark Arts, you are aware that one is not able to choose the form of one's Patronus. It comes from within. I trust you are capable of plotting a star chart for the date of my birth - which information I am equally certain you might easily obtain. With Mars playing such a distinct role in my chart, my corporeal Patronus cannot really surprise you. Now, if you will excuse me..." Harry heard Annwyl's steps disappearing down the corridor.

Garbled, angry mutterings told Harry that Snape was still just around the corner, so he backed away as quietly as possible, anxious to avoid an encounter with an angry Snape. Harry had nearly reached the junction of another corridor which would lead him safely away when the huge sound of someone blowing a very rude raspberry echoed weirdly off the stone walls. Peeves hovered just above him, grinning wickedly. Not waiting to see if the noise would draw Snape, Harry ran pell-mell down the adjoining corridor.

Several turns and shortcuts later, Harry felt he'd come far enough for safety. However, any further efforts to reach Dumbledore seemed foolhardy. Harry stood thinking hard. He could find Professor McGonagall. Surely, no one would question it if he was looking to speak to his head of house. He could tell her and she could take him to Dumbledore.

Reaching her office a few moments later, Harry raised his hand to knock, but before his knuckles contacted the heavy panels, the door swung wide.

"It is late for you to be roaming the school, Potter," said Professor McGonagall from her seat before her desk. "Well, come in. I assume you aren't walking for your health."

Harry stood before her desk and poured out his story.

"So, I thought I'd better try to see the Headmaster, Professor," he finished. "Since I didn't want to be out-of-bounds, I thought maybe you could take me to his office."

"That will not be possible tonight," she answered. "Professor Dumbledore has been called away on business. He left word that he wished to see you immediately after breakfast tomorrow."

Disappointed, Harry nodded. "May I go up to Gryffindor tower, then?"

"Yes, of course. Do not be alarmed, Potter. I shall certainly pass along what you have told me."

Upon reaching the portrait of the Fat Lady, Harry found an anxious Ron waiting.

"Harry! Where in bloody hell have you been? Hermione is about ready to organize a search party." He turned to the portrait, a firm grip on Harry's sleeve.

"Dog star," he declared and the portrait swung wide. Harry winced.

"That's the password?"

"Yeah... oh! Bugger. Harry, do you want me to ask the Fat Lady to change it?"

Harry shook his head and climbed through to the common room. Once inside, he was nearly knocked flat by Hermione, demanding, wildly, where he had been. As quickly as he could, he told what had happened.

"I didn't want to chance another run-in with Peeves, so I talked to McGonagall and then came back here," Harry finished. "I'll see Dumbledore tomorrow. It can't really matter now since whatever happened must be long over."

Professor Snape and Professor King certainly aren't getting along," remarked Hermione. "Dumbledore didn't even announce she'd be teaching Defense, but I guess Snape already knows. No wonder he's so foul to her."

"Actually," said Harry, looking around to see if they could be overheard, "she isn't the Defense professor. Snape is. Professor King will be taking Potions."

"We didn't think Dumbledore would want us telling anyone before he announced it. With everyone else on the train with us, we never had a chance to tell you," Ron said apologetically.

"Look, Hermione," said Harry, noting the hurt look on her face, "I promise we'll tell you everything tomorrow, but it is just too late tonight." He stifled a large yawn.

All three trudged up the stairs to the dormitories. Too exhausted to worry about whether or not he'd dream, Harry flopped into his four-poster and fell promptly to sleep.

* * *

Harry was disappointed again, however, at breakfast the next morning. Professor McGonagall handed him a message saying that his meeting with the Headmaster was delayed until further notice to allow more time for fact gathering (whatever that meant). Seeing his downcast expression, Professor McGonagall gave him an encouraging nod before leaving.

A moment later, Professor Dumbledore made the announcement about the new Defense and Potions professors. Throughout the Hall, there were a few gasps and quite a bit of whispering. Dumbledore made some patting motions in the air and the sound subsided.

"I invite you all to join me in welcoming Professor King and trust you will make her sojourn with us a pleasant one," he said. This was met by scattered polite applause.

"There are a few other matters," Dumbledore continued and went on to make his usual remarks regarding the Forbidden Forest ("Still, quite forbidden!"), no magic in the corridors, and Filch's list of 953 prohibited objects and substances. Then, his light tone changed.

"I understand a number of you have had questions about yesterday's events and the welfare of your injured classmates. First, let me assure you that Madame Pomfrey is so well satisfied with their progress that she anticipates they will rejoin us by lunchtime. There are, to my great sorrow, two exceptions. Mr. Corner, having bravely put himself forward to defend his classmates, is still recovering from shock. We hope to see him among us again soon. Miss Chang, I regret, will not return to us. Having suffered a dementor attack, she has been placed in permanent residence at St. Mungo's. It should be noted that her bravery and skill in conjuring a Patronus several times before she was attacked, was the direct saving of nine of her fellow students. Please rise and join me in honoring Cho Chang."

Harry's mind reeled as the whole school rose and rumbled in one voice, "Cho Chang." His thoughts flipped back to the leaving feast after the Triwizard Tournament when they rose to remember Cedric Diggory. His throat constricted painfully.

How many more? How many innocent lives must be taken or shattered?

Harry heard nothing after that and hardly even noticed as Professor McGonagall handed out their schedules. It wasn't until he was on his way to Transfiguration with Ron and Hermione that he began to take note of their excited chatter.

"What in the world are you two on about?" Harry asked.

"Harry, didn't you hear any of Dumbledore's speech?" exclaimed Ron. "He said that since the success of the D.A. was so evident during yesterday's attack on the train, the whole school should have the chance for that kind of training. So, he is reinstating a defense club. And, get this - Snape and Professor King will run it together. Can you believe it?"

"Well, they didn't seem to be too happy to be working together," commented Hermione. "I guess we'll see tomorrow night at the first meeting."

If Harry thought his O.W.L. Preparations had been difficult, it wasn't long before he realized that had been a cakewalk compared to N.E.W.T. preparation. The first day of classes was Transfiguration and Herbology in the morning with double Charms in the afternoon. By dinnertime, Harry and the other sixth year Gryffindors were seated at their house table, moaning over the homework the professors had liberally assigned that day.

"I hope this Professor King will teach us how to brew an energizing potion," Parvati Patil whined.

"Well, if she does, brew some for me, won't you?" replied Seamus. "I can't believe I have Binns' N.E.W.T. level history to sit through. I'd sleep, but he actually pays attention to his N.E.W.T. classes."

Despite all the homework waiting for them, Harry, Ron and Hermione managed to find a quiet corner of the library after dinner to bring Hermione up to speed on all that had been happening. Harry even brought his Contemplation Sphere so Hermione could see the Order meeting. The sphere impressed her almost as much as all they had to tell her.

"Wow," she breathed, examining the silver ball carefully, "this is really impressive. The charms to make one of these are quite difficult. Ron, your parents are wonderful."

Harry toppled into bed that night, once again, too tired to spare a thought for dreams. He did wonder what facts Dumbledore might be gathering, but before he could properly think it over, he was asleep.

* * *

Harry's first class the next morning was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Although he knew this was one area in which he excelled, Harry dreaded dealing with Snape. He was so wrapped up in his concern over the class, he didn't even notice Professor McGonagall at the front of the room until he was seated.

"As you have all observed," she began, "Professor Snape is not with us today. He has, however, left a reading and essay assignment for you. Several of you are able to conjure a Patronus, but none of you have studied the theory behind the spell. You are to study what your text says concerning this and write a two foot parchment on how one may strengthen the Patronus and even direct it. It will be due in one week. You may begin."

Although Harry tried to concentrate on his work, his mind kept wandering back to Snape. He had seemed fit enough at dinner last evening, so illness seemed unlikely. Had Voldemort summoned him? Had Dumbledore sent him to gather information about the attack on the students? For a moment, Harry considered asking Professor McGonagall after class. However, one good look at her furrowed brow made him think better of it and seemed to confirm the suspicion that Snape was on Order business.

That afternoon was the first Potions class for the sixth year N.E.W.T. students. As whenever there had been a new teacher, the room hummed in anticipation. Harry had to admit that Annwyl was an imposing figure, despite her small stature. Like Snape, she favored black robes and instead of entering her classroom in the usual way, she waited until all were seated and just sort of detached from some dark shadows in one corner and glided to the rostrum. It was a bit unnerving to think she had been there all the while.

Aside from her unorthodox entrance, Annwyl was a straightforward, no nonsense professor. With very little fuss, she soon had them brewing a strengthening solution. It was review work, but she wanted to see their technique. Throughout class, she glided up and down between desks, observing them carefully.

As they were clearing up to go, she stepped to the rostrum to address them.

"You should all remember that tonight will be the first meeting of the new defense club. All are encouraged to attend and promptness is required. You have a question, Mr. Malfoy?"

Harry realized with a start that they had been in class a full ninety minutes and there had been no snide remarks from Draco Malfoy. Such a thing had never happened before and instead of being a pleasant surprise, Harry found it made him wonder what the slimy ferret was up to.

"Well, Professor," came the drawling voice from the back of the room, "surely you don't plan on having a defense club meeting without the Defense professor. I understand he is away today."

"While it would be desirable for our Defense professor to join us," Annwyl answered coolly, "it is not desirable to delay the training. We shall meet this evening. Class dismissed."

After Annwyl's warning in class, no one dared be late and by 7:25 that evening, it looked as if most of the school had gathered in the Great Hall. As when Lockhart had offered a dueling club, the long house tables had been moved against the walls creating a large open space in the center. In this space, everyone stood, griping wands and looking about expectantly.

When Annwyl arrived a moment later, Harry, Ginny and Ron were the only ones not surprised by her appearance. She was in her white fencing gear and carried a bag which clanked as if containing some muggle weapons. Setting down her bag, she addressed the group.

"In Defense, it is vitally important that one's mind be as much under one's control as one's body. Further, both must work smoothly together for where one may be weak, the other may compensate. To achieve this end, we shall begin with a muggle sport known as fencing. It is uniquely suited to the sort of mental focus I desire to see in each of you."

With that, she moved around the Hall, transfiguring clothing, conjuring weapons and showing everyone the basic footwork. Before long, they were all at work, striking their floating targets. Harry noticed that, despite the sneer on Malfoy's face as Annwyl worked with him and several other Slytherins, Malfoy was as intent on the footwork as any of them. Hermione was thrilled and Ginny worked between her and Dean, giving them all the pointers Annwyl had given them over the summer.

They had been working for an hour and a half and Annwyl was transfiguring everyone's clothes back to school robes when Severus Snape entered the room. His sallow face was contorted in a disgusted sneer.

"Professor King, what is the meaning of this? I understood from the Headmaster that you were conducting a defense club meeting. Instead, I find you wasting time with your foolish muggle foot shuffling and hopping about with these ridiculous oversize pins." He eyed a foil with distaste.

"Professor Snape," Annwyl replied with icy calm, "that was hardly your diplomatic best. I shall be happy to discuss this with you when our meeting is adjourned." Turning to the students, she said, "I expect that you will continue our footwork drills throughout the week. Special equipment is not required for this. You are dismissed."

The students filed from the Hall, but when Harry, Ron and Hermione reached the corridor, Harry held the other two back. Waiting until Ginny and Dean had turned the corner, Harry reached into his book bag and drew out his invisibility cloak.

"I was thinking about sneaking down to see Hagrid. I think this will still cover all three of us if Ron hunches down. Let's see what Snape and Professor King are doing."

Under the cloak, they crept back through the door and huddled against the wall. Annwyl was back in her teaching robes, her weapons (favorites having belonged to her father and kept in storage for some years, she had explained earlier) packed in her bag. She stood facing Snape, her eyes snapping sparks.

"Snape, I'll not be bullied before the students. If you expect to intimidate me, you'll find you are dealing with more than you bargained for."

"Oh, I do beg your pardon," Snape hissed. "Perhaps, you'd prefer to settle this your own way." He flicked his wand and his swirling black robes were replaced by trim-fitting black trousers and a white linen shirt. "Rapiers, King?" A shining weapon appeared in his hand.

Annwyl did not answer but transfigured her robes to pants and a shirt not unlike Snape's. Raising her hand and wand, she spoke.

"Accio, rapier."

A weapon flew out of her bag and zoomed to her outstretched hand, glittering murderously.

"Your terms, Snape?"

"First blood."

"Very well," she said, saluting him with her blade. "En garde."

He returned her salute and readied himself. With a nod, they began.

Harry, Ron and Hermione drew a collective gasp as they watched the two professors. They did not limit themselves to the linear, back and forth footwork the students had been learning. Now, they circled and moved about, looking for all the world like dancers. Harry was astonished to see how comfortable Snape appeared in such a bout.

The blades flashed in the torchlight, the sound of their footsteps punctuated by the clash and whispers of steel on steel. Several times there were close calls which were parried in a nick of time. Suddenly, there was a scrape of blades and Snape's rapier lay on the floor at Annwyl's feet. Faster than Harry's eye could track, she had disarmed him. Now, she stood, the point of her blade directed at Snape's throat.

"First blood, was it not?" she asked in a silken snarl.

Her blade flicked up and before he could react, Snape's left cheek was marked with a thin, red line. A second later, a drop of blood ran down, glaring against the sallow skin.

Without another word, Annwyl retrieved her bag, swept past where the three were huddled under the invisibility cloak, and out of the Hall. Snape stared after her, unmoving, a thin trail of blood coursing down his cheek.