The Mark of Death

Every day for the next few weeks before term was a similar routine. They would eat breakfast quickly and then be told to stay upstairs while various members of the Order came in and out. The highlight of the month was Mrs Weasley coming home from Diagon Alley with their books the day before they were to leave for the Hogwarts Express.

"What kind of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher would assign this book to you!" She seethed as she had dropped Harry's and Ron's books in a huge pile at the foot of Harry's bed. "What Dumbledore must be thinking, I have no idea, but fighting fire with fire has never been his ways."

Harry noticed Kreacher was shuffling into the room as Mrs Weasley walked out, an evil smile on his lips as he began wiping dust off a desk. Harry could hear him muttering, but it didn't sound bitter as usual; he sounded almost happy.

"Kreacher!" Harry snapped coldly, jumping off his bed and walking over to the aging Elf. "You are not to be in any room of this house at the same time as me, is that understood?" Harry glared before adding; "But you do not leave the house, ever."

Kreacher looked hatefully at Harry, but spoke respectively to him. "As master wishes, Kreacher obeys."

Hermione made a faint clucking noise, and Harry knew she didn't approve, as Hermione felt that House Elves were enslaved, but Harry didn't care. He hated Kreacher worse than anything, and to have this repulsive thing serving him made him very angry indeed. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to be able to kick him across the room. Kreacher bowed then scurried out of the room.

"Harry..."

"I don't want to hear it Hermione," Harry snapped. "That foul mouthed freak is why Sirius is dead."

Hermione nodded and sat beside Ron on the bed, her face told Harry that she didn't agree, but wasn't about to argue when he was as angry as he was. Ron just looked from one to the other, knowing better than to side with either. Hermione looked as though she might cry, and this further angered Harry. He jumped up and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

As he walked towards the stairs he heard angry voices at the front door, and paused to listen, hating being kept in the dark on everything in what was now technically his house.

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard..." Harry could tell it was Mr Weasley's voice, and he sounded horribly offended.

"I assure you I am not lying," Snape's voice now, taunting Mr Weasley. "But if you chose to ignore the obvious, well, I guess you will have to wait and see it for yourself."

Harry wondered what they could be arguing about, and dared to glance over the ledge that looked over the front door, only to see Snape disappearing through it.

"Damn!" He thought to himself, knowing he couldn't very well ask Mr Weasley. He debated going back and telling Ron and Hermione, but Harry was still so angry at Hermione for defending Kreacher that he couldn't be bothered. Instead, he found himself wandering the halls of the vast house; hoping to maybe feel a connection to Sirius by exploring his childhood home.

He eventually came to a room that must have been Mrs Black's bedroom, it still hadn't been cleaned since Buckbeak (who was now back in Hagrid's care) had occupied it, there were dried up droppings, bone fragments that must have been from ferrets, and a musty stench in the air that made Harry bring the neckline of his shirt over his nose. The king-sized bed had been turned on its side and pressed up against a wall.

Harry walked around the room listlessly, looking at pictures in smashed frames, their occupants cowering in the corners of the photos. Before long the smell was getting to him though, forcing him to open a window to relieve the stench.

A warm, fresh breeze soon chased through the room, sending papers off the desk and causing something to fall in the closet. Harry walked over to put whatever it was right, looking in to see a closet that had to at least be the size of Dudley's bedroom, the walls were stacked high with clothes, boxes filled to overflowing, and various junk. One of the boxes caught Harry's eye, it seemed to be filled with pictures. One in particular; Sirius at about the age of seven, looking sullen, in what was definitely this house - about thirty years earlier though, clean and elegant, with a younger boy next to him - it had to have been Regulus Black, Sirius's younger brother. He had Sirius's looks, but his eyes had a very evil glint to them that Sirius's didn't have. It was unnerving to see such a young boy looking so hateful.

Harry absentmindedly pocketed the picture while looking at a few more in the box, pictures of Sirius at different ages, looking more and more bitter as he aged - one very angry looking picture of him at about fifteen, the age Harry had seen him in Professor Snape's Pensieve, helping Harry's father torment Snape.

The sound of footsteps approaching made Harry stuff the pictures into his pocket along with the other and got up quickly as Hermione and Ron came into the room.

"Dinner," Ron said, panting as though he had run a marathon.

"Harry, are you alright being in here?" Hermione looked around as though afraid something was in there with them. He could see where she could be concerned, the room had an eerie feel to it, the aging pictures on the walls and the desk, the droppings... it was the only room in the entire house that hadn't been cleaned, but Harry felt comfortable there, and he was still angry with Hermione for defending Kreacher.

"I'm fine," he replied curtly, walking past her to go downstairs, pretending not to care about the hurt look on her face, or the worry on Ron's as he took a seat next to Lupin. He was so angry that he had completely forgotten about Snape and Mr Weasley's argument from earlier.

*

After dinner Hermione left the table with Tonks, who was going to show her how to straighten her hair with her wand, so Harry went upstairs to pack his things for the morning. Ron was already in there, flipping through Defense At All Costs - it was the first time Harry had ever seen Ron reading a schoolbook before term started.

"Harry! You won't believe this!" Ron exclaimed with a mixture of disbelief and excitement. "Chapter eight, defending yourself with an Unforgivable, do you think we're going to learn how to use them?"

"NO!" Harry said forcefully. "Dumbledore wouldn't allow it, perhaps it's theory?"

A crashing noise came from the other end of the room; Fred and George had Apparated into the bedroom. Harry and Ron were so used to this by now that they didn't jump.

"Sorry we missed dinner, mates," Fred smiled. 'We had a very interesting customer chatting to us after we closed."

"Yes," George grinned mischievously, "Never thought I'd see the day that old Percy would walk into our store..."

"Percy?" Ron said, disbelievingly. "Was he buying..."

"No, of course not!" Fred shook his head, now thoroughly disgusted. "He wanted to continue the talk from the last time he came to see us, at home."

Ron looked up at Harry. "I forgot to tell you, just before we came to get you at your uncle's, Percy came home. At first he was being really nice, but then he and my mum had a row."

"More than a row," George said angrily. "He said he didn't care that You-Know-Who was back, Dad should show a little pride and quit skulking around the Ministry so much, and that it's no wonder he hasn't moved up in ages, and that he was ashamed to call himself a Weasley."

"So today," Fred seethed. "We're about to close shop when in comes Percy. He was asking us all kinds of things, like why aren't we at the Burrow, and how come his keys don't work there - we didn't tell him where we were, we said that no one wants him around and he got all mad and buggered off."

"Yeah, can you imagine that?" George laughed, flopping down on Harry's bed with a copy of Defense At All Costs, opening it and flipping through it. "Hmm... very interesting read, the Cruentus Curse - that would have been a great way to get rid of him!"

"No!" Fred's eyes widened with amazement and he jumped over to read it for himself. "They get to learn that?"

"What is it?" Harry had never heard of it before, but judging by the looks on the twin's faces, it had to be bad.

"It's a curse commonly used in duels." Ron said, looking as awed as Fred and George. "Basically, it slashes the skin, like a knife would, but there's no incantation, it's just a certain movement made."

Harry remembered seeing Snape use a curse on his father in the Pensieve that sounded similar.

"We tried to figure it out once," Fred shrugged. "On Bill, only it went very wrong and he started to have convulsions... oh, here's why, we used the wrong movement," Fred was looking at another page in the book now. "Blimey, there's a whole chapter on these curses!"

Ron pulled a face of disgust. "I remember that! His eyes were rolling into the back of his head..." a look of horror crossed his face suddenly. "It shows the counter curses too, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," George said, looking through the book with Fred. "They aren't pretty, either. You're going to have a fun year."

Harry nodded grimly. "We better not have our classes with the Slytherins, they..."

"Wait, you don't know?" Fred looked triumphantly at Ron and Harry, obviously about to deliver bad news. "You're in NEWT levels, your classes will be mixed with all four houses, it's very different."

"Look at the bright side," George walked over to Harry with the book to show him a moving picture of a man who's ears seemed to be spewing liquid. "You might get to test this lovely hex on Malfoy!"

*

The next morning was very hustled; Mrs Weasley suspected Kreacher deliberately set all the clocks back an hour to make them late, as everyone had slept in. She was hollering at Ron to get dressed (he was already) and to eat his breakfast (he had already) and get going. Hermione came down, dressed and packed, and giving Harry an apologetic look. Harry guessed her attitude towards Kreacher might have changed a little having nearly made them miss the train.

"Come on, come on!" Mrs Weasley snapped, pushing them out the door. Harry could see that they were taking extra precautions again, Moody, Lupin, Tonks and Mundungus Fletcher were escorting them - and this year it was just Harry, Hermione, and Ron - last year Ginny, Fred and George were there too. Harry guessed that the reality of Voldemort's danger had increased now that the Ministry were aware of him. They walked the twenty minute journey to King's Cross in under fifteen minutes, walking at a very fast pace - Mad Eye Moody's magical eye surveyed the station as they took turns running at the barrier, first Tonks and Hermione, then Lupin and Harry, the rest followed shortly after.

"Have a good year," Tonks smiled, hugging everyone.

"Write if you need anything," Mrs Weasley said in a rushed, low tone. "Remember, only write what's necessary."

Harry knew exactly what she had meant. He shook hands with Lupin, Moody, and Fletcher before jumping onto the train, Hermione and Ron rushed off to the front, where they were supposed to meet the Head Boy and Girl for instructions, likely just to be told to walk up and down the corridors every so often, checking on things. Harry went off to find a place to sit.

"Harry! Over here!" Ginny's red head popped out of a compartment, and Harry could see Luna Lovegood was sitting in there with her and said hello.

"How was your summer? Did you hear about Percy?"

Harry nodded as Neville walked in and joined them. Luna surveyed Neville wide-eyed, as though he was a new discovery. Harry realized what she was looking at - Neville had a small silver stud pierced into his left ear. Neville noticed them looking and blushed a deep shade of crimson.

"My Gran forbid me from doing it when I said I wanted one," he smiled nervously. "So I had it done the very next day."

They all laughed, and Harry was very impressed to see Neville was sticking up for himself, finally. He could see that Neville was pleased with himself. He kept reaching up to touch it as if checking it was still there.

"No Potions anymore for me!" Neville exclaimed. "I didn't get an Owl in that class, not that I expected one - didn't want one, either."

"I'm still in it," Harry muttered enviously. "I bet Snape's going to be as unhappy about it as I am."

"Professor Snape is strange," Luna said slowly, and Harry couldn't help thinking what irony it was to hear her say that about anyone, and by looking at Neville and Ginny, they were thinking along the same lines. Luckily the tension was broken when the compartment door burst open and Hermione stormed in, followed closely by Ron.

"That cow!" Hermione fumed, slamming the door shut behind her on Ron's robes. "Cho Chang has it out for me, I swear, you should have heard her!" Hermione took a breath and started to mimic Cho. "Oh, Hermione Granger, please try not to be too bossy, people still want to enjoy their ride in..."

"Well, Hermione, she DOES have a point," Ron said gingerly.

"Oh, of course YOU are going to defend her, aren't you?" Hermione hollered, and everyone else in the compartment just watched in shock, Harry was afraid to so much as breathe, he'd never seen Hermione this angry. "She just LOVED you, didn't she?"

"Hermione, calm down, please, I didn't do anything..." Ron's ears were red; he looked positively appalled at Hermione. She looked around at everyone then, and realized what a spectacle she must be.

"I'm sorry, you're right, you didn't do anything." She slumped in the seat next to Neville. "She just seemed to make fuss over you right after telling me off, and then there's Malfoy!"

"Oh yeah, Harry - wait until you see Malfoy," Ron said, shaking his head in disbelief. "He's different."

Almost as if on cue, Draco walked by the compartment, and Harry could see exactly what Ron and Hermione had meant. His blond hair was longer now, almost to his shoulders, and he seemed to have lost his arrogant stance, instead he looked angry, bitter, and evil - more like his father than Harry had ever seen him. Draco stopped and glowered in, then opened the compartment door.

"Well well, Weasley found Potter quickly, what a surprise." He was glaring coldly at everyone, especially Ron. "Still going to waste time playing Quidditch? I don't think anyone's been scored on more times than you..."

"How about your mother, Malfoy?" Harry stood up and stepped in front of Draco, daring him to do something. "Bet you she gets scored on all the time while your daddy rots away in Azkaban."

Draco's expression was almost frightening, his cold grey eyes didn't leave Harry's. "I'd watch what you say this year, Potter, especially about my mother, it's kind of ironic you should mention her though..." Draco smirked and looked around at everyone else before shrugging and walking out.

"Ok, he is definitely weirder than Professor Snape," Luna said nonchalantly, as though nothing more than a few polite greetings were exchanged. Ginny giggled and looked out the window as the Snack Trolley came by.

"What did he mean, 'ironic you should mention her'?" Hermione asked after buying a few snacks for herself. Harry and Ron were tucking into some Bertie Bott's.

"Probably rubbing it in to Harry 'bout Sirius," Ron muttered, his mouth full of beans.

"Either way, I think we should be wary of Malfoy," Hermione said gravely as they were changing into their robes, nearing the castle. "Chances are he's going to be very difficult this year."