Harry Potter and the Veil of Mystery

Chapter 9

Consequences

Tuesday's lessons went roughly as Monday's had. In some ways, that was to be expected; the second years were more or less first years in terms of their Defense Against the Dark Arts knowledge, as they had never had a useful class under Umbridge. Harry's worry that the Slytherins might be more problematic proved unfounded; they seemed almost as enthusiastic as the Slytherin first years. He wondered if it was because after a year of Umbridge, any halfway decent class looked really good by comparison.

Wednesday's classes went well also, with a slight hitch with the Slytherins; two of the ten Slytherin students left the class in the first ten minutes with symptoms that were obviously from Skiving Snackboxes. He decided not to make an issue of it, and the other Slytherins stayed and appeared to enjoy the lesson.

Thursday presented an escalating problem; four Slytherin fourth years skived off of Harry's class using the Snackboxes. He knew he would have to act soon; he just wanted the violation to be sufficiently flagrant that the need for action would be obvious.

Harry was in the staff room at lunchtime talking to Professor McGonagall about the situation when an owl flew in and dropped a letter on his head. The letter fell to the floor, and Harry picked it up. It was from Helen Clark, the Slytherin first-year girl. He read silently.

Dear Professor Potter,

I wanted to tell you about what is going on here. It's really bad. You were right about Malfoy. He's really mad at all the first and second years because they like you and your class. He's being terrible, making threats and saying awful things. Hedrick tried to write you a letter, but Malfoy caught him and did a curse on him. He's okay, but he was really upset. I'm writing this on my bed so no one can see me, and I'm going to sneak off to the owlery.

I also wanted to tell you that Malfoy is trying to make all the Slytherins get out of your classes using those candies that make you sick. He yelled at some of the third years that didn't use them, and now he's saying bad things are going to happen to the fourth and fifth years if they don't. He gave everyone in your classes the candies, but there's no way I'm using one, I don't care what he does to me.

He's so awful, Professor Potter. Why did the Sorting Hat ever put me here? I wish I had asked the hat to put me someplace else like you did. Please help us if you can.

Helen

Harry read the letter with mounting fury. I should have known this was going to happen, he thought. He was bothered less by the Skiving Snackbox campaign than the attacks on the younger students. Is there nothing he won't stoop to? wondered Harry.

"That son of a bitch..." he muttered.

The teachers stared; McGonagall dropped the folder she was holding. "Professor Potter! We do not use language like that-"

He glared at her and interrupted her. "Read this!"

Shocked at his anger, she took the letter and read. Her face reflected her growing dismay. The other teachers looked on, wondering what was going on. Finally she finished. "While your language was inappropriate, I sympathize with the sentiment. Would you like me to talk to Professor Snape about this?

He shook his head. "Malfoy'll just lie to him, and then be twice as horrible to the first and second years. No, I'm going to go have a chat with Malfoy. Your evenings might be getting busy soon, Professor. Excuse me." He stormed out.

He headed toward the Great Hall, hoping that Malfoy was still there, with as many Slytherins as possible around. He got his wish; Malfoy was there with his usual group of sixth years. Snape was nowhere around, so Harry would get no opposition. He stood at the part of the teachers' table which was closest to the Slytherins. Malfoy was about a third of the way down the hall from Harry, but Harry had decided that he wasn't moving off that spot.

He raised his voice considerably. "Malfoy! Get down here!"

The hall came to a near-hush. Malfoy looked over in incredulity. "Get stuffed, Potter."

"I'm a teacher, Malfoy. You should say, 'Get stuffed, Professor Potter.'" Many of the students in the hall laughed. "Now, get over here."

"No way. Who do you think you are?"

"I think, Malfoy, that I'm going to give you an hour of detention for every thirty seconds that you're not over here, starting now. It's up to you."

Malfoy stared at Harry mutinously for about twenty-five seconds, then muttered something and walked over to where Harry was standing. "What?" he sneered.

Harry let his temper guide him. "Listen, Malfoy. I know you hate my guts, and I don't care. But you are not going to disrupt my classes. I'm not stupid. Do you think I don't recognize the symptoms of a Skiving Snackbox? Also, you're a prefect. You're supposed to be enforcing the school rules, not making sure they're violated. You had damn well better make sure it stops, do you understand me?"

Looking smug, Malfoy said, "I don't know what you're talking about, Potter. Do you mean those foul things the Weasleys sell? You wouldn't catch me in that shop of theirs."

"Yeah, because they'd throw you out, you had to have done it by owl order. You can deny it all you want, I know what I know. So, here's the deal, Malfoy. Every student tomorrow, from whatever house... if anyone uses anything from a Snackbox, they get an hour detention. If anyone from Slytherin uses them, they get an hour detention, and you get an hour detention for every Slytherin that uses one. So, if all ten Slytherins use them tomorrow, that's ten hours of detention for you."

Malfoy fumed. "You can't do that! You have no proof!"

"I don't need proof, I can do this if I want. And don't bother complaining to Professor Snape, he can't overrule me. Now, I suggest you use your influence as a prefect to make sure that the students follow the school rules. Good day, Malfoy." Harry turned and left. The students in the hall, most of whom could not have overheard the conversation, nonetheless applauded, knowing that Malfoy had been taken down a peg. Harry headed back to the teachers' room.

He walked in and headed straight for McGonagall. "Professor, I apologize-"

She cut him off. "No need, Harry. I'm sure you have great affection for your first years, and this would be enough to anger anyone. What did you do just now?"

With the other teachers listening in casually but avidly, Harry told her. She pursed her lips.

"Giving detentions without solid proof is very problematical, Professor. We frown on it, because to be allowed to do so invites abuse. I know you are absolutely sure of this, and I'm sure you are right. It sounds very much like something he would do. But this starts to tread a very fine line."

"Minerva," said Professor Sprout, "given that this is Malfoy, I think that Professor Potter should be given some license. And the letter is evidence, of a sort. My feeling is that Professor Potter is well within his rights." Other teachers chimed in to agree. It was obvious that Malfoy had no friends in the staff room.

McGonagall sighed. "I suppose you have a point. I simply want to impress on Professor Potter, as he is new, that we prefer a high standard of proof to a low one."

"It's not only that, Professor," Harry pointed out, "but this isn't just a few people skiving off. This is a direct, organized challenge to my authority. We knew something like this would happen. I have to take strong action, or there'll be no end to it."

"Very well," she conceded. "I would advise you, however, to inform Professor Dumbledore of these developments, and get his advice before proceeding."

Harry nodded and picked up the letter. "I wanted to anyway, but I wouldn't have wanted to bother him with it. But I'll be happy to."

"On occasions when you are contemplating giving out detentions of such a quantity, it is not a 'bother' for the headmaster to become involved," McGonagall said.

"I just hope he can do something to help those poor Slytherins," Harry lamented. He left for Dumbledore's office.

By the time he arrived, Harry had worked himself into more anger. He stopped in front of the office and took a few deep breaths. No point in dumping anger all over Dumbledore, Harry thought. He'll do what he can. Harry entered the office.

"Good afternoon, Harry. What is troubling you today?"

Obviously I'm still angry enough that it's on my face, Harry thought. "I got this letter a half hour ago from a Slytherin first year." Dumbledore read it, and Harry laid out the rest of what had happened.

"I wish I could have seen Minerva's face when you said that," smiled Dumbledore. "I do not see her looking surprised too often. Well, here is what I recommend. If more than a few Slytherins use the Snackboxes tomorrow, you will send them to Madam Pomfrey's, and make sure they stay there for the rest of the period. I will visit them and question them. If I am satisfied that the statements in the letter are true, I will question Mr. Malfoy personally about the accusations. How will that be?"

Harry thought that sounded very reasonable; he was glad that Dumbledore was willing to use his talent as a Legilimens to this end. No doubt the idea of Malfoy tormenting first years was disturbing to him as well. "It sounds fine, sir. How will I let you know when I want you to come? It'll be in the middle of the lesson, and I don't want to lose too much time."

"You should summon Fawkes. I will show you how to do it." To Harry's surprise, Fawkes flew onto his shoulder; he felt that Fawkes seemed awfully light. "Now, Harry, move your wand like this, and say 'Fawkes.'" Harry did so. "Good. If you wish my attention, say my name while holding his tail, and he will take you to me. If you wish to go to another place, say the name of the place, and do the same; he will take you there. Do you understand?"

Harry did. He was amazed that Dumbledore was giving him permission to use Fawkes; Harry seriously doubted that the privilege was granted to many, if any, others. "Yes, sir, thank you. I was thinking, though, that it might be better if I questioned them before you did; I want to be on record as the one assigning the detentions if they're going to respect my authority. I can call you after I've finished. What do you think?"

"Yes, that will be fine," agreed Dumbledore.

"Thank you, sir. I just wish there was something I could do for those kids. It's doubly frustrating because Malfoy's taking his anger at me out on them."

"Yes, indeed, one finds that when in positions of authority, others can suffer the consequences of one's actions. It is often not pleasant."

Harry felt that Dumbledore must have been referring to recent situations in which Harry had suffered for Dumbledore's actions; he realized that the shoe was on the other foot now. "I didn't blame you for those things, sir. I hope the Slytherin first years don't blame me."

"I believe they will know who is responsible for their situation, and that it is not you," Dumbledore said. Harry hoped he was right. He thanked Dumbledore and left.

He went to the Great Hall to look for Ron and Hermione, and he found them at their usual spot, chatting before their Care of Magical Creatures class. When they saw Harry, they broke into applause, as did several nearby Gryffindors. Others sitting nearby laughed at the scene.

As he sat down, Harry said, "Well, I guess I don't need to tell you."

"Part of it," corrected Ron. "We know you gave Malfoy hell and threatened him with all kinds of detentions, and that you think he's behind these skivings you've had and is planning more. The only thing we don't know is exactly why you think it. We assume you have a pretty good idea, or else you wouldn't have done that."

"Also, 'eyewitnesses on the scene,' as the Muggle news shows like to say, said that they'd never seen you so angry," Hermione said. "And also that you deliberately humiliated Malfoy by making him go to where you were, instead of coming to him."

"And we couldn't be more proud," smiled Ron. "So, what's the rest of it?"

Harry showed them the letter; they reacted much as he did. "I wouldn't have thought he could get any lower... attacking first years! And him a prefect!" fumed Hermione.

"His prefect's badge has never been anything but a license to bully, we've known that for a while now," pointed out Ron. "But, yes, this is below despicable. I'd say that you restrained yourself well, mate."

"I couldn't yell at him for harassing the first years, much as I wanted to, because I can't let him know about the letter. If he even knows it exists, even not knowing who wrote it, all the first years'll be in trouble. So I had to focus on the Snackboxes."

"Do you think they'll still be in trouble?" asked Hermione.

"It all depends," said Harry. "I think the second years will support them, as well as some of the third and fourth. I think the ones who didn't skive are the type that aren't in Malfoy's pocket. There may be a kind of internal battle at Slytherin; not everyone there wants to be a Death Eater. People are just intimidated by the few that are there. If Malfoy's power can be reduced, the younger ones may be safer." He sighed. "I didn't think anything like this would happen, but I guess I should have expected it."

"That's true, Harry," said Hermione. "This was going to happen no matter what, if the young Slytherins liked your classes. Malfoy wasn't going to stand for that."

"The worst thing is, I can't write her back, because somebody could yank it out of her hand when she gets it, and then she's in a world of trouble," Harry said. "But... there is maybe something I could do," while looking down the table at a group on Gryffindor first years. He got up and headed in their direction. As he walked away, he barely heard Ron saying, "Well, he could've told us about it first..."

At 4:30, Harry walked into the library wearing his Invisibility Cloak. It had been a while since he'd used it, and he reflected on the irony that he was using it now to do something not at all against the rules. He looked through the stacks and found Helen walking through them, pretending to be interested in books. He walked up next to her.

"Helen," he whispered.

"Professor? Where are you?"

"I'm right next to you. I'm going to show myself. Make no noise, okay?"

She nodded; he made sure no one was watching, then flipped up enough of the cloak that she could see him. She gasped, but silently.

"Professor! What is that? What are you doing?" she whispered.

"Stand next to me, closer." She did. "We're going to my office, it's not far from here. Don't say anything until we get there." She nodded.

They walked silently out of the library, Harry leading, careful not to make noise or be bumped into by unsuspecting passersby. They went down the hall, turned, and walked down another hall, passing Pansy Parkinson along the way. They walked into the classroom and over to his office. He took off the cloak and shut the door.

"Okay," Harry said. "Sorry about all that."

"What is that?" she asked, looking at the cloak with awe. "I've never seen one."

"It's an Invisibility Cloak. I hear they're really rare. It was my father's. Professor Dumbledore happened to have it when my father died, and he gave it to me when I came to Hogwarts. It's come in handy more than once."

"Wow, it's so neat, I'd love to have one."

"Yeah, they're pretty great," he agreed, sitting down and gesturing for her to do so as well. "I asked David to have you meet me in the library for the same reason that I assume you wrote me instead of coming to see me; you could be in trouble from Malfoy and his friends if you're seen. Right?"

She nodded. "But why didn't you just write me back?"

"Anybody could walk up to you and grab a letter out of your hand, and then it's the same problem. You can send an owl secretly, but you can't get an owl secretly."

"Oh, I didn't think of that," she admitted. Then she smiled. "I heard what you did to Malfoy at lunch. That was so great. All us first years were so happy."

"I wish I could have done more," Harry said earnestly. "I wasn't that bothered about the students skiving my class. I would've done something about it, but I wasn't angry. But how he's treating you and the others... unfortunately, that's the thing I'm most angry at, and can do the least about. I can give you advice, but that's about it."

"I know. We've found out that there's not much we can do. The only one who could help us is Professor Snape, and he doesn't seem to care. I didn't know if you could do much, but I had to try."

"It still may help, just not in a way you'd expect. I showed your letter to Professor Dumbledore, and he's concerned as well. I didn't show it to Professor Snape, and I don't plan to. I won't risk your name getting back to Malfoy."

Helen looked like she might cry. "What can we do, Professor? It shouldn't be like this. You said you had some advice?"

"There are things you can do. One of them is something I said in class-make friends, be together. For example... are all the Slytherin first years together in this? Do you all feel the same way?"

She nodded. "Yes, we do, all ten of us. And all of the second years too, we think. We're not sure, but we think there might be some third and fourth years also."

"Good. That's a good start, right there. If you're all together, there's much less he can do to you. He's a prefect, and I know he abuses his power. He can curse a student, like he did Hedrick, and get away with it. But he can't curse all ten of you and get away with it. If you and the second years all stick together, he almost has to leave you alone. If he curses or insults one of you, the others can't give in, they have to risk the same thing.

"You see, Helen, this is how bad people with power push around good people without it. They pick one person, hurt him, and say to the others, this will happen to you if you don't do what we say. The people are scared, and they don't fight, and the bad people keep their power. But if the good people are united, if they say 'we'll fight you even if you hurt one or five or ten of us,' then the bad people can't win so easily. They have to fight or run. Sometimes they run, sometimes they fight."

"Like you fight Voldemort..." she said, seeing Harry's point.

"Yes. He could kill me, he could kill my friends. He killed one in June, someone I really cared about. But we can't stop fighting him, because then he would have power and could do any terrible things he wanted. We have to fight, to be who we want to be. Your situation is not that bad. Malfoy can't kill you, and he can't hurt you badly. He can embarrass you with curses, he can bully you, he can insult you. The question is, how much are you willing to deal with in order not to give up, in order to be the people you want to be? That's what you and the others have to work out."

"We hate him," she said fervently. "We really hate him. I know I'll do whatever it takes, and I think the others will, too." Harry didn't know if that was true for the others, but he could see it was true for her; she was clearly serious.

"This is a bit of what I meant in the class, about sticking together. The more people you have, the better, but you have to be careful that the people really are with you, and aren't just saying they are. But if enough people are with you, Malfoy could lose his influence, and have much less power."

"But he has lots of friends, doesn't he? Those two big guys, the other prefect, some other people who laugh at his jokes?"

"Those aren't his friends, Helen. Those are his allies, which is very different. Allies are together to have power, to share power. If Malfoy didn't have power, most of them wouldn't stay with him. Here's the difference: Ron and Hermione are my friends. We care about each other a lot, and we've all risked our lives for each other. We fight for each other, like they fought with me at the Department of Mysteries. I promise you that there are no Slytherins who would risk their lives for Malfoy. That's his weakness. You have to be friends with each other, like each other, help each other. That makes you stronger. You notice how I got a Gryffindor first year to help me? If he wasn't friendly with some Slytherins, I couldn't be talking to you now."

"But doesn't it take time to make friends?"

"Yes, it can. But sometimes it happens really fast. Sometimes you make friends faster if you have problems together, it makes you come together to solve them. One thing about life is, you never know what's going to happen. It's an adventure."

She nodded glumly. "A really hard adventure, right now."

Harry couldn't argue. "I wish I could do more for you. I wish I could wave my wand and make it go away, or make Malfoy go away. I'll do what I can, but it's mainly you and the others. You have to stand up for yourselves, for each other."

Now she looked determined. "We will. We'll defy him, like you do Voldemort."

Harry nodded proudly. "You remember what you said in your letter, wondering why you were put in Slytherin? She nodded. "I have a guess. It might be wrong, but I think the Sorting Hat put you and the others in Slytherin to change it. We need to be united to fight Voldemort, the Hat knows that, but Malfoy and his friends like Voldemort and don't like Dumbledore. If you and those who think like you do can stand up to Malfoy, the people who want to think for themselves will join you, and then everyone in Slytherin can say what they want. Then all four houses can work together. You know how Slytherins are supposed to have ambition, and Gryffindors courage? I think the Hat put the courageous people in Slytherin this time, because it knew they would have to fight."

She looked at him, glowing. Harry got the feeling she would run through fire right now if she was asked to. If he asked her to, he corrected himself. He had inspired this attitude in her. It felt strange to think that he could do that.

Harry heard the outer door of the classroom open. He reflexively moved to grab the Invisibility Cloak to cover Helen, but then he heard Ron yell, "Harry?"

Harry relaxed. "In here," he shouted.

Ron and Hermione walked in. "Ah, here you are," said Ron. Looking at Helen, Ron said, "Hi, I'm Ron, and-"

"And you're Hermione," Helen finished brightly. "Harry told me how you risked your lives for each other."

Ron put his hand on Harry's shoulder in a comradely gesture. "Yes, indeed... it's a very dangerous life, being Harry's friend, but an interesting one."

Helen giggled. "You must be really brave," she said. "How can you do that?"

Ron leaned over conspiratorially. "The trick is, try not to think too much. Once you've decided to do something, do it. If you think about it too much, you may not do it. One thing I'm very good at is not thinking. My teachers have said so." Helen giggled again, harder this time.

"Are you the one who wrote the letter?" asked Hermione kindly. Helen nodded. "Well, that was very brave of you," Hermione continued.

"We're going to fight Malfoy," Helen said proudly. "Me and the other first years, and some second years, we're not going to let him tell us what to do."

"That's wonderful," Hermione said. "But it's not going to be easy, though. Malfoy's nasty and mean."

"I know," said Helen defiantly. "Professor Potter told me it wouldn't be easy. Some of us could get cursed or bullied. But if we stick together, we can do it."

"If the others are as brave as you, I'm sure you can." She turned to Harry. "Harry, we wanted to let you know the latest. The information goes from older Slytherins to younger Slytherins to younger Gryffindors to us, so it could be garbled, but they're saying that Malfoy thinks you're bluffing, or that you can't make it stick. He's apparently putting full pressure on the fifth years to skive off tomorrow."

"Yes," Harry said triumphantly. "I sure hope that's right."

"You want them to get out of your classes?" Helen asked, confused.

"No, not really," Harry said, "but Malfoy could get into big trouble for this. He thinks he can get away with it, that he can lie about it. I think he's wrong. That's one way your letter helped. You told us about him pressuring you to eat the candies. Since you put it down on parchment, and teachers have seen it, if Malfoy does it now, he can get into bigger trouble. It can't be used as real evidence, because then everyone would know that you wrote it. But it's still helpful."

"If you need it to get Malfoy in more trouble, you can use it, you can say who wrote it," Helen said, looking very determined. Ron and Hermione raised their eyebrows.

"But then he'd single you out for abuse, Helen. Your life would get even more difficult," Harry pointed out.

"Like Voldemort singles you out, and your life is difficult?"

Harry sighed, then gave her a very serious look. "Helen, I've suffered a lot. It's really hard, being the one who gets singled out. I just want to be sure you understand that."

"I understand," she said quietly.

"Okay. I still won't use it unless I have to, but if I think it'll do any good, I will. Now, we should get you out of here. We'll have to use the cloak again, walk around until we find someplace where there's no one around."

"It won't be that hard, Harry. I thought to bring this." Ron pulled out the Marauders' Map from his robes.

"Nice one, Ron, good idea," said Harry. "Let's have a look, then."

Ron set the map on the table. Helen moved closer and peered at it. It took her a minute to figure out what it was and what it did. When she did, she let out a gasp. "Wow... this is so amazing..."

"Look at this!" said Hermione indignantly. "Parkinson is still out there in the hall! She was there when we came in."

"She was around here when we came in, too," said Harry. "She's obviously on a kind of patrol, making sure no Slytherins come talk to me."

"I'm almost surprised they'd bother," Ron said. "Why should they care what first years do?"

"The fact that they care, Ron, shows how worried Malfoy is," explained Hermione. "He wants to control Slytherin, and the first years have become a threat to that control. He wants to intimidate them. But it's good, in a way, Helen. It means he's worried." Helen nodded with satisfaction.

"It's too bad you can't use a map like this to find Voldemort," Helen mused.

"Are there any other Slytherins in places where you're likely to be, Harry?" asked Ron, who was not close enough to see the map well.

"Let's see... yeah, Nott seems to be hanging around the corridor leading to Gryffindor Tower, no reason for him to be there. I can't think of too many other places that I'd be especially likely to be found. Okay, we'll just have to slip by Parkinson again. It looks like if we go this way," Harry said, pointing to the map, "there's no one here, and we can take off the cloak and you can head straight toward the Great Hall entrance. Okay?" he asked Helen.

"Okay."

"All right. Ron and Hermione, you go past Parkinson, and Helen and I'll go the other way. I'll meet you back in Gryffindor Tower." He stood, grabbed the cloak, and gestured Helen to stand next to him.

As she did, she looked up at him with appreciation. "Professor Potter... thank you, for using this to come get me, for talking to me, for helping us."

"It's no problem," he assured her. I just hope everything goes all right, he added to himself.

At 4:30 the next morning, Gryffindor Tower was dark, all its inhabitants asleep. In the sixth year boys' dormitory, Harry was asleep, dreaming he was on his broom. Suddenly the scene changed; he was standing in a graveyard. He recognized it as the graveyard in which Voldemort had come back. The scar on his forehead started prickling. Harry took out his wand, alert, carefully looking around. He knew what he would find here.

Voldemort appeared in front of him, out of nowhere. He looked Harry up and down. Again, Harry felt frozen, unable to move. He saw Voldemort's eyes linger on him, his expression reminding Harry of a cat playing with a mouse before killing it.

"So, Potter... or should I say, Professor Potter... we meet again. It has not been often enough; I think I should drop in on you more often. We really should get to know each other."

Harry found that, surprisingly, he could speak. "I don't need to get to know you," he said loudly. "You're pure evil, that's all I need to know."

"Really, Potter, such disrespect... I will be seeing you more, anyway, whether you like it or not. Your feeble defenses are not enough to keep me out of your mind. I simply have not chosen to venture here."

"And why now?" Harry asked, but he thought he knew the answer.

"To punish you for your disrespect," sneered Voldemort, looking as if he were looking at a bug. "Bad enough that you dare to utter my name. But now you encourage your students to do so. You mock me by giving them school points for doing so. You will pay for that, Potter. You will stop doing this, now."

Harry laughed. "I'll do no such thing," he sneered back. "You can kill me, you can torture me, but you'll never make me do what you want. We'll fight you, and we'll win."

Voldemort looked smug. "What is the point of winning, Potter, when you are dead? Or when you would rather be?"

Harry was suddenly surrounded, practically unable to breathe, it the grip of evil. The world was shut out, only evil existed. Harry felt despair. 'But I still exist,' he thought. 'I'm still here.' Fighting despair, he remembered what he had to do. He summoned an image of himself hugging Hermione in his office, her saying she loved him. He saw Ginny, with admiration in her eyes, reach up and kiss him. He saw Ron put a hand on his shoulder, in his office yesterday. They love me, he thought. And I love them. I have to get through this, for them. He focused on them, on his love for them. In less than a second he started breathing easier. He felt the evil recede. He was himself again.

"You disgust me, Potter," spat Voldemort. "You sicken me. You parade your weakness as if it were a strength."

"It is a strength!" Harry shouted, exultant, taunting. "It drove you from my mind. You can't tolerate it. That's your weakness!"

"Really? Let your friends protect you from this, Potter. Crucio!"

Harry screamed as loud as he could as the familiar pain of the Cruciatus Curse absorbed him, lancing into him at every point of his body, inside and out. He wanted to think, but he couldn't; all he could do was scream. He felt himself rocking back and forth, and then he felt a pressure against his shoulders. He continued screaming, as he vaguely heard a voice shouting, "Harry!" He was able to open his eyes.

He stopped screaming. He was sitting on his bed, Ron holding him by his shoulders, looking stricken. Neville, Seamus, and Dean were standing next to his bed, ashen. Harry gasped for breath, feeling as if he'd run five kilometers. He grasped Ron's shoulders, suddenly needing human contact. "Voldemort," he breathed. "Cruciatus..." he gasped for breath again.

Neville went white. "I'm getting McGonagall," he shouted, and ran off.

Harry slowly recovered his breath, still holding onto Ron. "Thanks..."

Ron still looked stricken. "I had a real hard time waking you up... I shook you, shoved you, but nothing. I was scared."

"When you're in that much pain, being shaken or shoved is not much feeling by comparison," Harry pointed out. "But you did it. I wonder how long I would have been screaming otherwise."

"I'd rather not think about that," Ron said fearfully.

"Tell me about it," Harry agreed, finally letting go of Ron's shoulders.

They were silent for a moment, and McGonagall came rushing in, Neville close behind. She sat down on the bed next to him and felt his forehead.

"Was this a vision, like last year?" she asked.

"No, it was just him, in that graveyard where he came back... he talked to me, taunted me... he's angry that I've been encouraging students to say his name, told me to stop... tried to possess me... then the Curse, and Ron was able to wake me up."

McGonagall looked near tears, deeply upset. She stood, took out her wand, and whirled in a familiar way. "Fawkes," she said softly. A second later, Fawkes burst into view. All the boys except Harry gasped. To the others, McGonagall said, "You four should try to get back to sleep. I assure you that Harry will be cared for." She helped Harry out of bed. "Put your arm around my shoulder, Harry," she said, putting hers around his waist. He felt he had barely enough strength to do it, but he did. She gripped him to make sure of her hold on him, then grasped Fawkes's tail. "Dumbledore's quarters," she said, and the phoenix was gone.

The living room of Dumbledore's quarters burst into view. Fawkes let them down, and McGonagall laid Harry out on Dumbledore's sofa. He heard her knock on the door of Dumbledore's bedroom. A few seconds later, Dumbledore opened the door. He took in McGonagall, and Harry on the sofa, and obviously knew at once what had happened. He strode over and sat in a chair near the sofa. "Are you able to tell us about it, Harry?"

Harry nodded. "But... it might be better to have Professor Snape here, while it's still fresh... maybe he..."

Dumbledore interrupted him by putting up his hand. He looked at Harry in slight surprise and nodded. "Yes, that would be better. I just did not know if you would be disturbed by further company."

Fawkes disappeared again and returned in about ten seconds, carrying a somewhat disheveled Severus Snape. Snape took in the scene in a second. "Another vision?" he asked Dumbledore.

"No, a dream. He interacted with Voldemort, not from Voldemort's perspective," answered McGonagall.

"Harry, did you do your Occlumency exercises before bed last night?" asked Dumbledore gently. Harry nodded. "The same way as usual?" Harry nodded again. The three teachers exchanged significant looks. Snape and McGonagall sat down near the sofa. Dumbledore looked at Harry with compassion and said, "Please tell us what happened, Harry, in as much detail as you can recall." One of Harry's hands was near Dumbledore, who took it and held it. It made Harry feel a bit better, as holding Ron's shoulders had.

Harry told them the dream, being careful to omit nothing. When he finished, they all looked pensive, with Dumbledore and McGonagall distraught at what Harry had gone through. Snape appeared to be his usual calculating self.

"Professor Potter," said Snape, "you may find this difficult to accept at the moment, but there are elements of this which may work to our advantage."

Harry nodded, surprising the others. "I thought that might be the case," he said. "I think I even thought it in the dream. It's not like last year, when he was doing it for a specific purpose. Here, he's just doing it because he's angry, he wants to teach me a lesson. That's got to be good for us. That's why I asked Professor Dumbledore to call you, Professor Snape. I thought you might have some insight. Sorry to wake you."

Snape looked to Dumbledore, who nodded. "I was going to tell you in the morning."

Snape looked at Harry. "I would rather have useful information about the Dark Lord than a few extra hours' sleep, Professor. You acted correctly. And you are correct about why it is to our advantage. Acting from emotion is usually disadvantageous; the Dark Lord knows this. I am surprised that he has done this, for this purpose."

"But you warned me. You mentioned 'unintended consequences.' Professor Dumbledore told me, I assume from you, that this might happen."

"I thought it could happen," Snape admitted, "but I thought the probability was low, that the Dark Lord would not act out of emotion. It is not like him."

"Maybe it's not purely out of emotion," Harry suggested. "Maybe he truly fears what might happen if what I'm doing catches on. I mean," he continued, warming to his idea, "he loves that people fear his name, even his followers won't say it. He feeds on fear. If I get the students saying his name without fear, it could spread to the rest of wizarding society, and it would not only be to his disadvantage, but it would damage his status. He would lose that satisfaction he gets from people fearing his name. Maybe he considers it very important to stop this here and now."

The others raised their eyebrows and exchanged looks. Dumbledore gave Harry's hand a squeeze. "It appears that you have at least as much insight as I, Professor," Snape told Harry, surprising Harry greatly. "I find your conjecture to be reasonably likely to be accurate. I should have thought of it myself."

Harry almost smiled. "Well, you didn't get much sleep." Snape raised an eyebrow; Dumbledore and McGonagall chuckled.

"It's good to see that you have not lost your sense of humor, Harry," said Dumbledore, giving Harry's hand another squeeze, then releasing it. "I think you could use a nice cup of hot chocolate; I think I will make one for all of us." He walked over to a counter.

"Harry," McGonagall said, "perhaps it would be better if you were to temporarily forego-"

"Absolutely not," he cut in, looking at her, eyes ablaze. "No way. That would be a sign of weakness."

Snape surprised Harry again. "The professor is correct," he said, causing McGonagall's eyebrows to rise. "The Dark Lord would take it exactly that way. I would not have advised joining this particular battle, Professor Potter, but now that you have, to do anything but follow it through to its end would indeed be a sign of grave weakness. It appears obvious that you are ready, even eager, to join it."

"I'm not eager to wake up in the middle of every night being tortured, for sure," Harry said. "But I know I can't back off of this. Not only because it's a sign of weakness, but because what I'm doing is right."

"The Dark Lord will expect this. He knows perfectly well of your... determination and courage," said Snape reluctantly. "He knows you will not give in, and he will almost certainly be there again tomorrow night. Measures must be taken to prepare."

"Quite so," agreed Dumbledore, who returned, distributing cups of hot chocolate to everyone. Harry sat upright so he could drink his. He saw to his pleasure that his had marshmallows in it. He looked at Dumbledore, who winked.

"Which makes me wonder, what measures are those, and also, I did practice the Occlumency last night. How did he get in anyway? Is there anything more I can do?"

"Harry, Sirius told me once that you told him that you learned the Summoning Charm because you were going to face a dragon in twenty-four hours," recalled Dumbledore. "This may be a similar type of situation. Now, we do have an advantage here. Despite his protestations in your dream, your Occlumency skills are not 'feeble,' and it must have cost him some effort to break into your mind. That is something we may be able to exploit. In any case, I am confident that you will be able to repel him eventually; your skills will improve with practice, and of necessity. The only question is how much stress and loss of sleep you will suffer until then. You could succeed in repelling him tomorrow, or it could take a week or more. There is no way to know."

"Well, this is a battle I'm not going to lose," Harry said. "He's not going to beat me in my own mind. Eventually, he won't be able to get in." He paused. "Is there anything I can do while in the dream itself to fight him?"

"We cannot really know that, Harry," Dumbledore said. "There is no information to go on."

"I would recommend, Professor," said Snape, "that you try things. Use your intuition, as the headmaster is fond of advising. Use your imagination. Nothing you can try can make your situation worse, and it could possibly help. He cannot kill you, he cannot harm you physically."

Harry nodded. "Okay, I'll try that. If I can, that is. This time, it felt like he had me immobilized, like at the Department of Mysteries. But I was able to talk in the dream, and I wasn't then. So maybe I just thought I was immobilized. I'll try to move, and do other stuff next time, if he gets in. I like the idea that I can fight him without the possibility of getting killed."

"Yes, you can only be tortured. What a relief that must be," said McGonagall dryly, obviously thinking that Harry had a bit too much bravado.

"Who knows, maybe I can even avoid being tortured," said Harry stubbornly. "Maybe I only think he can, and so I feel it. Maybe if I step aside, or do something else, it won't happen. Maybe Professor Snape was right."

"It was only a conjecture, Professor Potter; I suggest you not get carried away by the idea."

"Well, I believe that there is not much else we can do here," said Dumbledore. "Harry, I will give you another Occlumency lesson tonight at 10:00, after which you should go to bed."

"Can the others join me?" Harry quickly asked.

Dumbledore smiled. "Yes, I daresay you could use the emotional support. Now, I suppose you will not be trying to get more sleep?"

Harry shook his head. "It's only two hours until I'd usually get up, anyway."

"Well, I was thinking... it seems nice outside, and the sun is starting to rise... a good fly might be invigorating. I will join you; it has been too long since I have flown."

Flying sounded good right then; flying with Dumbledore sounded even better. Harry knew that Dumbledore was asking mainly to give Harry support, and he appreciated it greatly. Harry quickly agreed, and Summoned his broom. Snape and McGonagall said their goodbyes and departed.

Harry and Dumbledore walked out onto the Quidditch pitch, brooms in hand. Dumbledore had taken one of the Slytherin Quidditch team's Nimbus 2001s, pointing out to Harry that while they were provided by Lucius Malfoy, they were school property under the care of the head of Slytherin House. "I believe that Professor Snape will not mind me using it for a while," smiled Dumbledore.

Harry laughed. "I suppose not," he agreed. Malfoy would mind, but too bad, Harry thought. They kicked off the ground, and went up into the air. Harry did indeed feel invigorated, the wind whipping through his hair, the cool air giving him energy. He flew joyously for about five minutes, Dumbledore at his side. Harry couldn't tell who was leading or following, he just knew it felt good.

Harry looked down and happened to see a solitary figure running out onto the pitch. Harry shouted to Dumbledore, and they both descended. It was Ron, holding his Cleansweep.

"Why are you still up?" asked Harry.

"Are you kidding? Do you think we could go back to sleep? 'Right, Voldemort's just attacked my mate, I think I'll have a nice lie down.' Really, Harry, you can be a bit thick sometimes." Dumbledore chuckled.

"How did you know I was out here?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "I'll put it down to the lack of sleep, but you'd better get it together for your classes... a Firebolt climbing out of your trunk and zooming through the portrait hole is kind of hard to miss." Dumbledore was still smiling broadly.

"Okay, I get it... so I take it you'd like to join us?

"C'mon... how could I turn down the chance to tell my grandkids that I once flew with Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore?"

Harry smiled. "With any luck, I'll be there to tell them how you made fun of me before we flew."

"It's a deal," Ron agreed. "Now, let's go."

As they kicked off, Dumbledore said, "I was going to show Harry some moves from my Quidditch days. I will be interested to see what you think, Ron."

Ron gaped. "You played Quidditch?"

"Yes, I was primarily a Seeker, but I have experience at all positions. Follow me, if you would..."

They flew for over an hour, sometimes doing moves and sometimes just flying for the fun of it. Dumbledore finally suggested that they set down, and on the way down, Harry noticed a small group watching near the Quidditch field. Dumbledore was saying, "I should really do this more often. As one ages, one can forget to indulge in the simple pleasures of life. Or, as the Muggles say, stop to smell the roses once in a while."

Harry asked Ron about the group that they were now walking toward.

"Oh, those are Gryffindor first year boys. They heard you scream, and they came running in just after McGonagall left with you. Then they spent the next fifteen minutes asking me questions about what had happened, your scar, your connection to Voldemort, everything. I think they had pretty much gotten it when your broom flew out. They were pretty impressed by that, too."

"If Professor McGonagall had found you, Ron, she would have reprimanded you for not sending them back to their beds," Dumbledore pointed out as they set down.

"I know, I just didn't have the heart to send them back right away," Ron admitted. "They were so worried about Harry. It would've seemed cruel."

"I understand. It is not often that I approve of a school prefect breaking the rules, but this is one of those times." Ron grinned.

The first years now came running up to them, their faces in awe as they saw who was with Ron and Harry. "Professor Dumbledore!" three said in unison.

"Hello, all," Dumbledore greeted them. "You will be glad to know that Professor Potter is now fine."

"Why were you flying?" asked one.

"Professor Dumbledore was... helping me take my mind off things." Harry looked at Dumbledore with affection. "Thank you, sir."

"Did he hurt you badly, sir?" asked David.

"You mean, Voldemort?" asked Harry pointedly.

The Gryffindors gaped at each other. "But sir, Ron said that he did it because he was mad at you for saying the name!"

"Yes, David, and the fact that he did it is proof that I was doing the right thing, and should continue doing it. Doesn't it make sense that if Voldemort is angry at what you're doing, it's a good thing to be doing?"

"Yes, sir, but.. we heard your scream through a thick wall! Aren't you afraid he's going to do it again?"

"Oh, he's going to do it again, that's for sure," Harry agreed. "And he's going to keep doing it. That's why I have to fight him. Now, the Cruciatus Curse is no fun-"

"What Professor Potter means to say," Dumbledore interrupted with a slightly reproving glance at Harry, "is that the Cruciatus Curse is the most hideously painful torture known to man, but that he will face it anyway, to defy Voldemort."

The first years gaped at him. Harry said, "Well, yes, those wouldn't have been my exact words, but..."

"You have yet to learn, Harry, that there is a point at which modesty ends and dissembling begins. Please try to keep that in mind."

"Yes, sir... anyway, yes, it's extremely painful. People have lost their minds from having it done to them for too long," he continued, to the still-awed first years. "But I have to keep doing this; I have to get people to say the name, so they won't be scared of it. And I'm not putting anyone else at risk; the only one he can get to like this is me. But I'm going to stop him. I'm going to beat him."

"But how can you beat him, sir?" asked David, as Harry saw Hermione and Ginny come flying out the castle entrance, running toward him at full speed.

"By keeping him out of my mind," Harry answered. "With practice, I can do it. Professor Dumbledore's going to help me."

"Better brace for impact, Harry," Ron advised, as Hermione and Ginny got nearer. Hermione was closer. "Oh, Harry!" she cried as she plowed into him, nearly knocking him over. She repeated it as she hugged him tightly, then stepped aside to let Ginny have a turn. He hugged both back, gently saying, "I'm okay, it's all right."

"But you're going to keep doing it, aren't you? You are, I know you," asked Hermione anxiously.

"I have to, Hermione. You know that. I can't give in to him."

"I know, I know, I just hate it. I just wish I could do it for you."

"I wouldn't let you. You know that, too," Harry pointed out.

"Well, you know we'll do anything we can to help you," said Ginny, still holding onto Harry's left arm.

"I know," he said, meeting her eyes as they walked. "Just knowing that is helpful, believe me."

"Professor Potter could not be more correct," said Dumbledore. Looking at Ron, Ginny, and Hermione. "Talented and resourceful as he is, he could not have accomplished what he has without your friendship and support." He glanced at the sky, apparently gauging the time by the sun's location. "Well, I must be off. I will see you three in class later, and all of you in my quarters at 10:00. Harry, if you need me for any reason, I will be available. Goodbye for now." He strode off to the castle entrance.

"What are we doing at ten?" asked Ginny.

"An Occlumency session. He said we'll have them every night until Voldemort can't get in anymore. I'm going to beat this."

The five Gryffindor first years started running ahead, no doubt to start spreading the word. "Hey! Wait a minute!" Harry shouted at them. Startled, they came skidding to a stop.

"Listen to me. You can't stop saying his name. I know you might want to stop, to help me, but it won't help me. If we stop, then he wins. If you want to support me, keep saying his name. Do you understand?" They nodded.

"Eric. What's his name?"

"Voldemort."

"David?"

"Voldemort," David said firmly.

"Good. Now, go ahead." They took off running.

Hermione looked at him. "You know, Harry, you may be a teacher, but right then you were a general, in a war. You were giving the troops their instructions, like in those Muggle movies."

Harry nodded. "And we really are in a war, just a different kind." They walked into the castle.