The Man of the Moment

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Worth Waiting For

Harry did not sleep at all well that night. Ameline's blood-spattered visage kept appearing whenever he closed his eyes, and during the rare moments he was actually asleep, he found himself plagued with dreams and images. At one point, he was sitting on a tree stump in the Forbidden forest, with pyres burning all around him; despite the heat they generated, he still shivered within his thin pyjamas. His parents kept flitting through the clearing, dancing as though they hadn't a care in the world, whilst Persephone watched on, looking rather wistful and twisting the hem of her long white dress in her left hand.

"Funny how we all seem to blunder across each others' paths, without ever really realising the damage we might cause," she said, mostly to herself, before acknowledging Harry's presence.

"Love; there's nothing greater, is there?" she asked.

"I guess not," Harry found himself reply, as his mother glided past him and stroked his cheek tenderly with her hand, before gliding away again. Harry longed to reach out for her, but as he lifted his hand up towards her, he knew the effort was pointless.

"Just because you can't touch her, doesn't mean she isn't there," Persephone commented. "She's within you, always."

Then, Sirius turned up, all in white, and put his arms protectively around Persephone.

"You want to protect this one," he explained, with a smile. "She's the link between us, you know. As long as she's around, we'll always be together."

"I don't understand," Harry said lamely. Sirius smiled, and took out a small penknife from his robe belt. He gestured for Harry to hold out his, which Harry did without question. Sirius swiftly dragged the blade across Harry's palm, and blood began to bubble through the wound. Sirius did the same to Persephone, who winced, and held their palms out for Harry to see.

"Do you see that?" he asked. Harry nodded.

"Yeah, it's blood," he replied, not sure where this whole conversation was going. Sirius nodded.

"You're right- it is blood. But look more closely- it's the same," he explained.

Harry looked down at his bleeding palm, but all he could see was Ameline's face crying out to him through the coagulating rivulets of gore....

He woke up with a start. Grabbing his watch, he saw that it was time to get up. He wondered if perhaps a good breakfast would distract him from the lingering memories of the past night's dreams, as he scrambled out of bed and put some clothes on. He leant over to wake Ron, but to his surprise, Ron was already up and dressed. He was busily penning a letter to somebody, and apparently hadn't even noticed Harry was leaning over his shoulder.

"Ron, what are you doing?" Harry asked, and Ron jolted in shock.

"Oh, Harry- it's you," he said gruffly. "You frightened the life out of me! I'll be ready in a minute..."

"Yeah, but what are you doing?" Harry asked again, only for Ron to blush furiously.

"Erm, writing to Hermione," he replied quietly. Harry couldn't help but grin.

"Why don't you just talk to her at breakfast?" he suggested. Ron shook his head.

"What, distract her whilst she's trying to revise? I'd rather not risk it," he replied. "I thought if I gave her enough time to rearrange her timetable, she might spare me a couple of hours this evening."

"Fair enough," Harry replied. In truth, he could see Ron's point. Hermione was always fastidious about exam revision anyway; now that the N.E.W.T.s were on the horizon, she had become even more so. However, he did watch in amazement as Ron attached his letter to Pigwidgeon's leg.

"Ron, isn't that going slightly over the top?" Harry asked, as kindly as he could. Ron merely shrugged.

"Maybe; but at least this way I won't embarrass her further by making it known I'm giving her a letter," he replied, in somewhat sullen tones. Harry sighed, but said nothing in response. The sooner this whole thing between Ron and Hermione was resolved, the better, as far as he was concerned; for he really didn't know how much more of their awkward behaviour he could deal with.

On their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast, Harry got the chance to explain to Ron what he had seen in the Forbidden Forest last night. After initially complaining to Harry about not asking him along to see Hagrid, Ron soon became captivated by Harry's tale of Grawp's return, and of the reappearance of Ameline- which had been just as mysterious, if not more so, as her disappearance.

"Blimey," Ron breathed, "so there's now a bunch of renegade giants roaming the Forbidden Forest?"

"It looks that way," Harry replied. "I suppose Hagrid's going to have to look after them- I can't see the centaurs being too impressed, even if they did help them defeat the ones sent by Voldemort."

Ron snorted.

"S'pose... still, from what you were saying, they seemed pretty kindly to Frederick- I mean, for centaurs," he reasoned. Harry shrugged.

"Yeah, but I think it would have been difficult for anybody to turn away from that. Frederick lost almost his entire family last night. It was horrible; their bodies were just everywhere..." He trailed off, trying to block the image from his mind. Ron patted him on the shoulder.

"At least Ameline's alive," he commented. Harry nodded.

"That's true- but what happened to her, I don't know."

"What did Hagrid say about it?" Ron asked. Harry shook his head.

"He didn't say much at all; just kept on about how it was best to leave tribal business to tribes. To tell you the truth, he was really cagey about it all. I'm sure he knew more than he let on to me; that's for certain."

They descended the staircase that led them to the ground floor, and only just managed to jump off the last step before it whirled around and set up home in a completely new position. As they walked towards the entrance to the Great Hall, Harry heard voices coming from the far end of the corridor.

"Oh, Draco- I am so sorry..."

"There's no need to be sorry- why should you be sorry? It wasn't anything to do with you. I don't know... I just don't know!"

Harry looked up along the corridor, and saw to his surprise that Pansy was walking with one of her arms wrapped protectively around Draco, who looked even paler than usual. They were oblivious to his attention, however.

"You should eat something; you'll go into shock..."

"I don't want to see anybody," Draco replied numbly. "Besides, I've got things to do. I've got to sort stuff out, seeing as Dad isn't exactly around..."

"Draco, stop it," Pansy ordered. "Professor Snape said he would deal with all the arrangements for you, and I think you should take him up on the offer- I mean, you've got enough on your plate, what with exams and everything..."

"Do you think I care about my stupid N.E.W.T.s now?" he yelled hotly. Pansy looked a little taken aback, but didn't react to his fury.

"I'm just saying, she wouldn't want you to fail because of this, would she? Anyway, I know you aren't exactly sure about Professor Snape at the moment, but it's obvious he cares; otherwise he wouldn't have gone to all this trouble. He didn't have to spend all of last night rushing around the Ministry of Magic filling in forms and contacting all those departments..."

"I know," Draco replied quietly. Pansy smiled sympathetically at him.

"Anyway," she commented. "You should be grateful for your N.E.W.T.s, really."

"Why?" Draco asked, looking up at her.

"Because, if it wasn't for these exams, you would have been at home, as well..."

At this point, Harry found himself face-to-face with Draco, who glared at him in disgust.

"Oh, I bet you think this is hilarious, don't you, Potter?" he demanded angrily. Harry looked blankly at him.

"I don't know what you're on about," Harry replied truthfully. Draco sneered.

"Of course you don't; it's only been all over the front page of the Daily Prophet," he retorted. Ron rolled his eyes.

"What are you moaning on about now, Malfoy?" he asked, somewhat dismissively, whilst curling his lip slightly. Draco glared at him.

"Well of course, Weasley; I'd hardly expect you to read the Daily Prophet- too many long words for your liking," he spat. Ron merely shrugged.

"I'd love to stand around and have a battle of wits with you, Malfoy- but I don't think it's right to fight somebody who's unarmed," he retorted, before steering Harry towards the Great Hall by pushing his back with his hand.

As they approached the Gryffindor table, Ron was grinning from ear to ear.

"Did you hear that, Harry? That's got to be one of my best comebacks ever!" He exclaimed, happily. The smile soon fell from his face, however, when Harry began to move towards where Hermione was sitting, engrossed in her copy of the Daily Prophet. Harry turned around, and looked at Ron, who appeared most uncomfortable.

"Oh, come on, Ron," he said wearily. "You've got to face her sooner or later."

Ron exhaled sharply, and looked thoroughly distressed about the whole prospect.

"You're right," he said, with the air of a man going into a battle he knew he would not escape unscathed. "Let's go," he added, before striding over to the Gryffindor table, cracking his knuckles nervously as he went.

They sat either side of Hermione, who barely even noticed their presence until Harry poked her in the back.

"How's revision going?" Harry asked, at which Hermione whirled around and beamed.

"Oh, it's going okay," she replied. "I mean, I've only gone over Detection Potions twice this morning, but I suppose it is only half past seven..." She trailed off, looking increasingly fraught.

"Yeah, it is!" Ron replied suddenly, before looking very embarrassed as Hermione caught his eye.

"Oh," she said flatly. "You're here."

"Yeah, I am," he replied, in equally flat tones. They looked at each other awkwardly for a moment, before fixing their gaze on any object that proved to be a distraction.

"Have you seen Malfoy by any chance?" Harry asked, in a desperate attempt to start up some sort of conversation. Hermione shook her head.

"No, but..."

Ron swiftly interrupted her by explaining, "We just saw him- he was acting well weird," without actually making eye contact with Hermione.

"Yeah, he got really stroppy with us- I mean, I know that's pretty much Malfoy's reason for living; trying to irritate us, but this was beyond..."

At this point, Hermione swiftly thrust her copy of the Daily Prophet into Harry's hands.

"I think this explains Malfoy's behaviour quite succinctly," she said quietly, before going back to eating her porridge.

Murder at Malfoy Manor!

The Daily Prophet can report that, just a scant few days ago, Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy was discovered dead at her home in Wiltshire. Sources close to the Magical Murder Department claim that the victim was hacked with a ritual instrument, before being flayed alive, in one of the most horrific killings this century- excepting, of course, the cold-blooded murder of thirteen Muggles by Peter Pettigrew, which resulted in the erroneous imprisonment of Sirius Black; and also the deceitful poisoning of Albus Dumbledore, previous Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (see September Issue 17- page twenty-seven contains details of our back issue ordering system).

Although initial speculation suggests that You-Know-Who is to blame for this terrible killing, other sources at the MMD believe this is not the case.

'Looking at the facts, and taking into account that Lucius Malfoy had been a loyal Death Eater, and seems not to have relinquished this role as of yet, the suggestion that You-Know-Who instigated this killing seems laughable. There are a few hallmarks of his traditional style, particularly the fact that whoever committed this murder left nothing to chance, for even Mrs. Malfoy's house elf was disposed of. However, the method of execution is most unusual; and smacks a little of a revenge killing,' states a member of the MMD investigation team- who cannot be named for legal reasons. Considering that Lucius Malfoy is rumoured to have been the one to murder the much loved and respected Albus Dumbledore is such a cowardly way, it would seem that the list of suspects could be exponential.

Arthur Weasley, the Minister for Magic, has issued the following statement:

'Whether this atrocity has been committed by V*******t, his followers or is completely unrelated to our current situation, I implore anybody with any information to come forward. In times of war, as well as times of peace, cold-blooded murder cannot, and will not, be tolerated by our state. We will bring the culprit to justice.'

If anybody has any information concerning this case, you can contact the Magical Murder Department of the Ministry by Owl Post. All correspondence will be dealt with in the strictest confidence....

Harry decided to skip the small, boxed notice about contacting the Daily Prophet with any interesting stories. Ron, who had been reading over his shoulder, looked ashen.

"Bloody hell," he whispered. "I know he's always a git, but I suppose that explains part of his behaviour today..."

Hermione nodded in agreement.

"I know," she said. "I mean, he is horrible, but nobody deserves that..."

"That all depends on what they've done, don't you think?" Ron commented. "All that gloating he's done about your parents, Hermione- and yours, Harry. In a way, it sort of serves him right... sort of," he reiterated. Hermione still looked upset.

"Just think what could have happened if he had been at home?" she added.

"Well, he'd better start showing you some respect, then," Ron replied darkly. "If you hadn't let him off the hook last term, he'd have been there. He'd have been expelled for sure."

Harry, on the other hand, wasn't thinking about Hermione's part in all of this- he was thinking about Ameline's.

"Well, I suppose this explains what happened to Ameline," Harry remarked in a hushed whisper. Hermione put down her spoon and looked at him.

"Whatever do you mean, Harry?" she asked, so Harry explained to her everything that happened last night concerning Grawp and the blood-spattered Ameline.

"Oh my..." Hermione trailed off, her face pale with shock. "Ameline? But she seemed so nice! I mean, we didn't see a whole lot of her, but when we did, she was pleasant enough. Besides, she forgave Lupin when the rest of her tribe were baying for his blood..."

"I'd imagine that's how she found out," Harry commented. "You found her letter outside after Connie had told Persephone all about Angela's death. She hadn't exactly kept her voice down about it..."

Hermione clapped her hand to her mouth in horror.

"What, you think she heard? Goodness; I know she was upset about Angela..."

"Upset doesn't cover it," Ron added darkly. "She was devastated. You said it yourself; she was her only child. I mean, the only child she had herself, if you know what I mean."

"Do... do you think they'll arrest her?" Hermione asked quietly. Harry shrugged.

"I don't know," he replied truthfully. According to what Ron's dad had said, then it seemed as though she would be; if, of course, she was found out. To be honest, Harry couldn't be certain it really had been Ameline's handiwork- but it all seemed too obvious to be mere coincidence. He knew what her tribe were capable of- he knew what she could be capable of.

After breakfast, Harry decided to give Ron and Hermione- who were nervously arranging a time to meet up and 'talk things over'- the slip, and try to find Persephone. Knowing what he did about Ameline, and knowing full well out of everybody in the Snape tribe, she was the sole member who would actually be pleased to see him; he though it best to try and talk to her about Ameline. Perhaps she knew something about the whole situation that he didn't?

Not that it proved difficult to find her- Harry didn't even have to venture up to the Hospital Wing, for it turned out she found him. He spotted her striding towards the Staff Room as he wandered up the corridor; well, striding as best she could, considering she was still using a walking stick as a crutch. Harry was about to rush up to catch her, when he heard a horribly familiar voice from within the Staff Room.

"Persephone? What are you doing up and about?" Snape remonstrated, in a tone slightly more concerned that his usual indifferent manner.

"I'm getting stir-crazy," she remarked. "How are you getting on with that potion?"

"Fine," Snape replied, in a strained voice. "Faith and I had to halt proceedings when Armel came round..."

"Armel?" Persephone sounded bewildered. At this point, Snape took her gently by the arm and pulled her into the Staff Room, shutting the door behind him. Sadly, Harry knew now that, for him, shutting a door midway through an intriguing conversation was akin to waving a sack of golden jewellery in front of a Niffler. Within seconds, he was following Steve's orders without question, and leaning against the door in a desperate attempt to eavesdrop, the savage, amoral part of his brain triumphing gleefully.

"I knew you'd see sense!" Steve commented, bracingly, and Harry shook the thought from his head, instead concentrating on listening to the conversation going on within the walls of the Staff Room.

"Merlin!" Persephone gasped. "So that's where she's been?"

"It would appear so," Snape replied darkly. "Now listen; this is important." He lowered his voice. "If the MMD start asking questions- you don't know anything, do you hear me?"

"Severus." Persephone was chuckling humourlessly at this juncture. "They'll find out, you know. She used a flaying spell? They'll track that within days- I wouldn't be surprised if they tracked it by sunset, to be honest..."

"That isn't the point," Snape interrupted harshly. "Look, they might be able to track it to Juanita's wand, but they certainly won't be able to track her. You know how it works- they're all outside the law, logistically speaking. Besides, Armel's already obtained a new wand for her and burned the original. If we just keep quiet, nobody will be any the wiser..."

"You're asking me to lie to the authorities!" Persephone exclaimed. Snape laughed harshly.

"I'd have thought you were used to that by now..."

"Oh, leave it out," Persephone spat. "This is different. It's all very well killing in self-defence, or in battle- but this was a revenge killing, pure and simple. She broke in with the intent to murder anybody that crossed her path in that house- otherwise she'd have just killed the elf. What if Draco had been there, hmm? Would you be so quick to play accessory then? I somehow doubt it..."

"Armel won't be able to cope if she's imprisoned." Snape continued, neatly sidestepping Persephone's enquiry altogether. "For Merlin's sake, they were all killed out there! Armel, Juanita, you, me- we're all that's left. A thousand-strong tribe that has been going for thousands of years, and we are all there is to show of that legacy!" Snape exclaimed furiously. Persephone sighed.

"And how do you think that makes me feel?" she asked. "Of course it's horrible. However, the fact of the matter is, she will get found out, and if we cover up for her, we'll make things worse. If we don't lie, we might be able to get her sentence reduced, or even get her a probational sentence! Anya knows all about this kind of thing- diminished responsibility, insanity thought grief... it's by far the safest route. If we cover it up, Juanita will suffer the full force of the law. You know what the climate is like now; Arthur can't afford to let it slide. If he does, he'll probably end up with a full-blown riot on his hands. Things between the Muggleborns and the Purebloods are pretty tense..."

"That's an understatement..."

"Exactly," Persephone continued. "If he tips the balance one way or another, there will be public fury, and Voldemort..."

"Don't."

"Sorry, Severus." Persephone took a deep breath. "He'll take full advantage. We've got far too much to lose!"

There was a quiet snort of derision.

"This is a new take on things from you, Persephone- it seems you will happily break the law when it suits you..."

"I know what you're getting at, and that is unfair," Persephone retorted, hotly. "Faith wasn't guilty at all- she was falsely imprisoned, and going mad..."

"Going?" Snape interjected.

"Don't. Start." Persephone sounded furious. "The point is; she was completely innocent. Besides, I didn't break the law, not really. As Anya pointed out in my opening trial, although it was a crime to break out of Azkaban prison, technically, there was no law that stipulated it was a crime to break into Azkaban. Under the Ministry's own by-laws, Azkaban prison was classed as public property, seeing as a specific taxation band pays it for... I don't quite understand myself. Complete loophole, anyway- they fixed that as soon as I was cleared, but by then I'd already been tried. Double Jeopardy, you see- they couldn't try me again for the same crime..."

"You got off on a technicality?" Snape seemed gobsmacked.

"Exactly. You can't fight the law, Severus," Persephone explained. "But you can bend it into shape. Trust me, Ameline will suffer by trying to hide her from the law..." She sighed loudly. "Then again, as I only heard about what happened from your lips, that can't be classed as concrete evidence. I'll tell them I've been indisposed and wouldn't have seen anything- but you've got to promise me you'll try and make Armel see sense!"

"I'll try," Snape replied, after a short pause. "I'm not promising anything, though. He's already refusing to sleep so that he can guard her."

"Great," Persephone hissed. "Well- just keep working on that potion. Send Armel to see me if he won't listen to you..." She exhaled loudly once more. "I just hope we can sort this mess out..."

The door handle turned, and Harry jumped away just in time, for Snape had opened the door and was walking away. Harry watched as he stalked off down the staircase that led towards the dungeon, but as he watched, Harry suddenly felt a mild pain in his left leg. Looking up, he realised that Persephone had cheerfully swung her walking cane across his shins.

"What are you doing, Potter?" she demanded, in a voice clearly mimicking her father's. Harry instantly felt guilty.

"I... I was just... My shoelace came undone..."

Persephone sighed.

"Harry, you're wearing slip-ons," she replied, shaking her head. "You really need to brush up on your lying skills, mate."

Harry did the only thing he thought he could do under the circumstances, and shrugged. Persephone shook her head, but judging by her slight smile, she wasn't particularly angry.

"Why do you always have to listen in on people's conversations?" she asked, with feigned weariness. "I know I'm prone to it; but I'm a spy. What's your excuse?"

"I don't know," Harry replied. "If it's any consolation, I feel really bad about it..."

"Forget it..."

"Cheap," Harry continued. "Dirty, even..."

"Alright, give it a rest," Persephone barked, before sighing once again.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she said wearily. "It's just... Well, you heard, no doubt. Ameline's in a bit of a jam."

"I know," Harry replied. "I mean, I saw her in the Forbidden Forest, and then I saw the 'Prophet'."

Persephone looked sideways at him.

"What were you doing in the Forbidden Forest, Harry?" she asked, as she began to climb up the stairs, presumably to the Hospital Wing. Harry followed, although he found he had to slow down his usual pace- normally, he struggled to keep up with her.

"Well, I went to see Hagrid," Harry explained. Persephone looked at him.

"You do know that didn't come close to answering my question, right?" she asked. Harry shrugged.

"Funnily enough, you're the only person I know who'd think that," he commented. "Everyone else would hear the words 'Hagrid' and 'Forbidden Forest' in the same sentence, and understand completely..."

"Alright, alright," Persephone retorted. "So, I take it you know about the giant rebellion, if you'll forgive the pun?"

Harry nodded, though he couldn't help but smile.

"Yep," he replied. "I think they're all staying in the Forbidden Forest. I'm not sure what Hagrid is going to do with them, though..." He paused for a moment, before looking up at Persephone. "Do you think they'll help us against Voldemort?"

Persephone frowned for a moment.

"I don't know," she replied. "I'd like to think so... I think Hagrid will have to work on them- he's the only member of the Order and the Brethren that I think they'll trust."

"So, you don't have any giants working for you?" Harry asked. Persephone laughed humourlessly.

"Oddly enough, we've never received speculative applications from any giants," she replied. Harry smiled.

"I see your point," he replied. The full giants he could think of wouldn't really get involved in such affairs- while Hagrid and Madam Maxine had their own jobs to consider.

"How are Ron and Hermione?" Persephone asked suddenly. Harry whistled.

"Oh, don't ask me," he replied. "I think they've decided to try and talk things out, but who knows what that means. They'll probably just have a huge row."

Persephone chuckled.

"I'm sure they'll sort things out," she said comfortingly. "At least, I hope so. I've still got to teach you lot for about a month during your official study time for exams." She looked at Harry warningly. "But, you do realise that won't be enough..."

"I know, I know," Harry protested. "Why do you think I'm going to the common room to carry on revising?"

At that moment, Harry spotted the tiny frame of Professor Flitwick bouncing towards them.

"Oh, there you are, Professor," he announced, breezily. "I was just looking for you in the Hospital Wing; wanted a quick word in your ear... I take it you're feeling better?"

"Oh yes; much better, thank you. I'm also feeling rather bored, hence the stick," Persephone replied, waving her walking cane briefly in the air. Professor Flitwick smiled.

"That's good..." He paused for a moment, before gently tugging on Persephone's arm and leading her a little distance away from Harry. If it had been for the benefit of not disturbing his delicate ears, Harry thought it a little pointless, for he could still hear ever word the two spoke.

"I trust you've been acquainted with Mr. Lupin?" Flitwick asked, quietly. "He was talking about you when I popped in; I got the impression you were quite friendly with each other."

"Yes, well, we have been room mates for quite a while now," she replied with a curious expression. Harry presumed she had noticed Flitwick's uncomfortable manner.

"I thought I ought to mention... I mean, I'm not one to spread idle gossip, but I'm not sure if any of the staff would have warned you... We've never really had a problem whilst he was working with us, but... Oh, anyway, I thought I ought to let you know about Remus," he said, in a flustered manner. Persephone leant in a little in a display of rapt attention.

"What about him?" she asked. Flitwick looked a little uncomfortable.

"Well, you see; he's... not that I have a problem with it at all, I just thought- well, you are sharing that Hospital wing at the moment; you have a right to know he's..." He appeared to be struggling with his words, but Persephone sought to help him out.

"Dead?" she asked, horrified. Flitwick shook his head.

"No, no; he's..."

"Currently practising T'ai Chi?" she offered.

"No, no; he's..."

"Gay?" she asked. Flitwick shook his head.

"No, no... Well, actually, I wouldn't know either way... No, no- he's a werewolf."

"Ah," Persephone replied, nonchalantly. Professor Flitwick looked most bemused.

"Oh... I take it you knew?" he asked. Persephone nodded.

"I had an idea," she replied, winking surreptitiously at Harry. Flitwick breathed a sigh of relief.

"Oh. Well, that's good," he replied, happily. "Not that I have a problem with it, you see. He really is a lovely fellow- I just thought; well, there is a full moon coming up, and you might have been a little shocked if you saw him being chained up and taken away somewhere... I thought it best you heard it from someone, rather than finding out yourself... I take it you don't mind?"

Persephone shrugged.

"I've dated worse," she replied, nonchalantly. Flitwick beamed.

"Well, that's good," he replied. "Anyway; glad to see you're up and about, Professor," Flitwick commented, cheerily, before turning to Harry. "And I hope the revision is going well, Mr. Potter?"

"Oh, yeah," Harry replied, almost instinctively. "It's going well. We're working really hard," he added, for effect. Professor Flitwick beamed.

"That's good to hear," he replied. "Oh, do give my regards to Mr. Weasley, won't you?" he added, tapping his pocket with a knowing look on his face. Persephone scowled.

"Oh, stop going on about it, Filius," she remarked, only for Flitwick to grin even more.

"Envy is such an ugly emotion, Persephone," he retorted, with a cheeky grin, before he began to walk down the stairs towards the ground floor.

"Oh, Remus told me to tell you- you're in check," he added, before disappearing out of sight. Persephone looked astounded.

"Check? How can I be in check?" she exclaimed incredulously. Harry must have looked bewildered, for Persephone added, "We've been playing chess, and I suddenly appear to be losing. I'd better sort that out... Are you coming, Harry?" she asked. Harry shook his head.

"Maybe later," he replied. "I've got to revise..."

Persephone giggled.

"Ah- Filius has guilted you into it, I take it?" she teased.

"Naff off," Harry replied. "I want to do well!"

"Good, good," Persephone replied cheerfully. "Now go on, relearn a bunch of stuff!"

Harry offered her a mock salute, before climbing the stairs further, in order to reach the Gryffindor common room.

That evening, after what felt like an eternity of revision, Harry could feel his eyes blur out of focus every time he tried to concentrate on 'Silent Witness- the Use of Lethal Potions'. With a heavy sigh, he rested the book lazily on the table in the Gryffindor Common room, and yawned.

"That's it, I give up," he declared loudly, stretching his arms above his head. "I can't cope with any more Potions."

Neville, who was sitting next to him concentrating on a Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook, nodded in agreement.

"There's only so much you can do in a day," he added, closing his book as well.

Seamus, who had apparently been fast asleep on a Charms textbook, jumped up with a jolt.

"I was resting my eyes!" he announced defensively, despite the fact that no allegation had been made. Dean laughed.

"Sign of a guilty conscience, that," he replied, grinning. Seamus glared at him.

"Oi! I've done more work than Ron," he retorted. Harry looked along the table- or rather, the three tables they had pushed together to make a reasonable sized desk for them all- and found he had to agree. Ron hadn't really done much work today. He had been too busy talking to Hermione.

"Anyway, aren't they done yet?" Seamus asked, looking around the room. Dean sighed, and got up out of his chair.

"I'll go and have a look- I think it's my turn, isn't it?" he asked. Harry, Neville and Seamus nodded vigorously.

"Hey, if you're offering, we accept," Seamus replied, as Dean walked up to the staircase to the boys' dormitory.

"How long do you think they've been up there for?" Neville asked, somewhat anxiously. Harry shrugged.

"I don't know," he replied. The truth was, Harry would have bet a substantial amount of money on them having been there all day. Some time after he had returned from his brief discussion with Persephone- who, he had noted with some satisfaction, was certainly looking a lot better than she had in the past couple of weeks- he had managed a good deal of work, then, in the absence of either Ron or Hermione, he had gone with Neville to have dinner, and by the time he had returned to the common room, he saw Ron and Hermione heading up to the boys' dormitory, ignoring the variety of suggestive remarks that Dean and Seamus made in their direction. That had been hours ago. Harry had been given the dubious privilege of being the first person to go and investigate whether they had managed to kill each other, but a surreptitious peek through the gap between the door and the doorframe had merely shown Ron and Hermione quietly talking, and occasionally pacing across the dormitory.

"Five hours," Seamus commented.

"What?" Harry asked, not having a clue what he was talking about. Seamus tutted.

"That's how long I make it; I mean, how long Ron and Hermione have been up there for. Five hours," he replied, looking at his watch.

"Whose turn is it next?" Neville asked.

"I'm voting for yours," Seamus replied swiftly. Neville groaned.

"I don't much fancy that. It's embarrassing peering through that gap in the door frame," he admitted. "I feel like some kind of voyeur..."

"Well, you sort of are, Neville," Seamus replied. "We've all been put in that situation this evening. But, if it means I can go to bed sooner, rather than later, I'll live with your guilt for you, if you like," he yawned.

Harry began to pack his books away, having given up on the prospect of managing any more productive revision for the rest of the evening. Soon after, Dean reappeared, looking slightly ashen-faced, and with his jaw a little slackened.

"Christ, I wish he'd stop with the candid explanations," he muttered, as he returned to the Common Room.

"Why, what's up?" Harry asked. Dean snorted.

"What do you think?" he sighed. "Ron is still talking. I don't think I've known him to talk for this long in one sitting ever!" He sat down, and shook his head. "I could have well done without hearing that last particular confession..."

"What did he say?" Neville asked, who seemed very interested indeed in what Ron and Hermione were discussing. Dean help up his hand in the 'stop' signal, and shook his head again.

"It'll never escape my lips," he said. "In fact, I'm going to try and scrub my brain out later. I won't sleep tonight, I'll tell you that for nothing. I'm going to be in therapy until I'm forty!" He paused. "You know; if I make forty... And he reckons I'm a bad influence on Ginny? I wish Hermione had an older brother, just to see how he'd react if he knew what I know now..."

"Do you think we'll ever get to bed, Harry?" Seamus asked wearily. Harry looked at his watch. It was half-past one.

"I'm sure we will, eventually," he replied uncertainly. He couldn't even begin to imagine what Ron and Hermione had to discuss that could possibly take five hours; the current amount of time they had been in the boys' dormitory for.

Seamus sighed heavily, and slumped his head on the table.

"I don't get it," he commented. "How can it take five hours? 'I fancy you- let's get it on.' I don't see..." He looked at his watch. "There!" he exclaimed, pointing at the watch face. "Four seconds. Four lousy seconds! What in Merlin's name has Ron done with the other four hours, fifty-nine minutes and fifty-six seconds, eh?"

"I have no idea," Harry replied wearily. Seamus shot a look at him.

"How can you not know- they're your friends!" he exclaimed. Harry shrugged.

"That doesn't mean I know everything about them," he replied quietly. He had to admit, this was getting ridiculous. Why Ron and Hermione couldn't just sort out their grievances in a couple of hours, he did not know. Five hours seemed a bit over the top, as far as Harry was concerned.

Suddenly, Harry heard screams from outside. Neville clearly had heard them too, for he had raced to the window, and was staring outside with interest.

"Merlin's beard!" he exclaimed, beckoning the others to come over to the window. "Look at that- half of the Magical Murder Department must be out there!"

Harry raced to the window, and peered through the glass. Around five wizards, each wearing distinctive Auror robes, were circling a woman, training their wands directly upon her.

"Not quite the Magical Murder Department, Neville," Harry commented. "They don't look like they're gathering evidence- in fact, it looks like they're acting upon it..."

He strained to hear the conversation, but they were at such a distance that Harry couldn't hear any of their words. However, their aggressive actions spoke loudly enough. They were attempting an arrest. Harry looked more closely at the young woman, though he instinctively knew who it was before he even caught a glimpse of her long auburn hair. It was Ameline.

Suddenly, another tall, rangy figure stormed onto the scene, his greying hair glinting in the moonlight. Frederick Snape had arrived, and he appeared determined to stop his wife from being threatened by any of the skilled Aurors that surrounded her. Firstly, he attacked one of the Aurors so fiercely, he- Harry was able to see that the Auror was indeed male- was knocked to the ground and struggled to get back up on his feet. The rest of the Aurors swiftly turned their attention onto Frederick, who, wild eyed and wild haired, was now standing boldly in front of Ameline's quivering frame, and appeared to be threatening the Aurors present. Harry groaned internally- from what he had heard of Persephone's pleading to Snape, Frederick was doing the worst thing he possibly could for Ameline's chances at trial.

"Bloody hell, what's going on out there?" Dean asked in a shocked voice, as he too peered out of the window. Seamus soon joined them.

"They aren't more Death Eaters, are they?" he asked nervously. Harry shook his head.

"Doesn't look like it," he replied, taking care to be as reticent as he could. "Anyway, they're pretty much surrounded, aren't they?"

"True- ouch, that was brutal!" Dean commented suddenly. "There was no need to do that..."

Harry soon saw what Dean was talking about. A couple of the Aurors had grappled with Frederick, whilst another hit him with a few Stunners at close range. He put up an immense fight, but he was swiftly restrained, lying in a crumpled heap on the floor. One of the Aurors relieved Ameline of her wand and appeared to speak to her- Harry assumed he was reading out her rights. Ameline looked furious, and made a jerking movement with her head. The Auror wiped at his face, and Harry guessed she had spat at him. The same Auror gesticulated wildly, and some sort of magical forcefield soon bound Ameline. Two other Aurors moved forward and grabbed her by the arms, dragging her away. This time, she did not make much of a fuss.

"Do you think the other students have seen this?" Neville asked, looking a little perturbed.

"Nah- the other Common Rooms don't face this way," Dean replied. Seamus nodded.

"Yeah- at least that's what Mandy and Hannah told me the other day," he added.

"And the Slytherin Common Room is under the lake," Harry added. Neville looked sharply at him.

"How do you know?" he asked. Harry shrugged.

"Szeto," he replied, and Neville seemed mollified by this.

"I wonder what she's done?" Dean wondered aloud. Seamus shrugged.

"I dread to think," he replied sourly. "It'd be nice if they caught them before they got to our school, though."

Dean nodded.

"Yeah," he replied. "Why do they keep coming after us?"

Harry suddenly felt very uncomfortable peering out of the Gryffindor Common Room window with Neville, Seamus and Dean. He knew one of the reasons Death Eaters kept trying to gain access to Hogwarts- him. He was on Voldemort's hit list, just like the Snapes had been. Seeing as there were only four of them left, Harry thought his concern was not entirely paranoid.

"I'm just going to check on Ron and Hermione," Harry stammered out, desperate for any excuse to exit their company, if only for a few moments. He rushed up to the Boys dormitory, and rapped hard on the door.

"Ron?" he hissed loudly. "Ron? Are you in there?"

On receiving no reply, Harry opened the door... then after a few brief moments gawping at the sight, promptly shut it again, feeling rather red-faced at what he had just seen.

"Are you alright, Harry?" a breathless sounding Neville asked, as he rushed up the stairs. Harry looked at him, and smiled.

"I would have been better for not seeing that," he replied, gesturing towards the door. Neville looked puzzled.

"I'm not with you," he said, his face contorted in confusion. Harry smiled in an embarrassed fashion.

"Let's just say; Ron and Hermione have made up," he replied, before creeping back down the stairs.

The next morning at breakfast, Harry sat and chewed on his third piece of toast, wondering when either Ron or Hermione were going to show up, and whether they had seen him last night. He doubted they had noticed him, for they were far too busy kissing each other. In fact, Harry was certain they only stopped for air when Hermione slapped Ron hard on the wrist for daring to move further south than the waistband of her skirt. Still, that opened up the other question of whether they were going to tell him. Harry knew they were his best friends, but he still wasn't entirely sure they'd happily announce anything that was going on between them- out of embarrassment more than anything.

Harry's meandering thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a walking cane stomping against the polished floor near his feet. He looked up, and saw Persephone grinning down at him.

"How's it going, H?" she asked, grabbing a slice of toast from his plate and eating it in just a few mouthfuls. Harry shrugged.

"Okay, I suppose," he replied. "What are you doing down here?"

Persephone grinned, and spun her cane acrobatically in her hand.

"I'm officially released from the Hospital Wing, on good behaviour," she replied. Harry beamed.

"That's good news!" he replied. "So, you're feeling better?" he asked. Persephone smiled again.

"Nothing gets past you, does it," she teased, messing up his hair with her left hand.

"How's Remus?" he asked quietly. Persephone frowned at this.

"He's still transforming," she replied. "I'm going back up there later to play a few games of chess with him, to help him take his mind off things. Plus, I am determined to beat him one of these days!"

She spun her cane again, but this time, she dropped it, and bent down to retrieve it in a somewhat sheepish manner.

"Oh, Ron and Hermione have made up," Harry added. Persephone looked pleased.

"That is good news," she said, straightening up. "When did they tell you?"

"They didn't," Harry replied. "I walked in on them kissing. It was quite embarrassing."

"I can imagine," she replied, before glancing up at the High Table.

"I'd better go," she explained. "I got some news from Severus last night. It looks like Ameline is in a spot of bother."

Harry nodded.

"I hope she's okay," he said. Persephone smiled.

"Me too- I was supposed to be going down to the Ministry building myself today," she explained. Harry looked at her.

"But you've only just been let out of hospital! Aren't you supposed to take it a bit easy?" he asked. Persephone laughed.

"Funnily enough, you aren't the first person to say that to me today," she explained. "Tonks popped in to see me earlier, and ordered me to stay here. She's gone to try and reason with the Law Enforcement department on my behalf."

Harry couldn't help but smile.

"That's not like you to take orders," he joked, and Persephone swiped gently at his head with the back of her hand.

"Oi, you cheeky beggar- she just knows what to say to make me listen to reason, I suppose." She paused momentarily in thought. "She also knows what to give me to get me drunk quick, but that's another story."

Harry merely grinned in response as Persephone moved away from his table. Seeing as he had seen most of what happened last night through the Gryffindor common room window, he knew the spot of bother Ameline was in to be of the legal type.

Soon after this, Neville slumped down next to him, quickly followed by Dean, who grabbed a slice of toast from the nearby rack and began to butter it.

"You okay, Harry?" Neville asked. Harry nodded.

"Yeah, he replied. Dean grinned, and nudged him.

"Has Ron said anything to you?" he asked. Harry shook his head.

"I haven't seen him," he replied simply. Neville looked puzzled for a moment.

"Oh," he said, before taking a bite from his toast. "I just thought you might have seen him."

"Why, have you?" Harry asked. Neville nodded slowly.

"Yeah..." He trailed off, looking around as though checking for eavesdroppers. "He was whistling," he replied nervously.

"So?" Harry asked, until the gravity of Neville's words sank in. Ron whistling first thing in the morning? Ron hated mornings more than Harry did.

"Well, he's happy," Harry reasoned.

At that moment, Ron waltzed into the Great Hall and sat down next to Harry.

"Alright, mate?" he asked, grabbing a slice of toast and a glass of pumpkin juice. Neville, Dean and Harry all looked at him expectantly. Ron glared back at them.

"What?" he demanded.

"Well?" Dean asked. Ron shrugged, although Harry noticed the tips of his ears had turned a brilliant shade of red.

"Well what?" he asked. Dean laughed.

"Oh, come on, guy!" he exclaimed, clapping Ron hard on the back. "We all know!"

Ron turned completely crimson, but he clearly couldn't suppress a smile.

"Well..." He trailed off, and looked at Harry, Neville and Dean. "I'm too much of a gentleman to comment..."

Dean said something in retort that certainly wasn't very gentlemanly, and Ron laughed.

"Wouldn't you like to know," he teased. Dean nodded.

"Yeah; that's why I'm asking," he replied swiftly. Ron looked around; presumably to make sure no malicious ears were listening in.

"We kissed," he replied. Dean nudged him in the ribs.

"Oh really?" he commented. "Where? And how long for? And..." He trailed off. "I'm really starting to sound like Lavender or Parvati, aren't I?"

Harry couldn't help but laugh. Ron merely raised an eyebrow and grinned as though he were the cat that had found a side entrance into the local dairy.

"Well, let's just say my lips are a bit chapped," he boasted, before looking around furtively. "Don't tell Hermione I said that, though," he urged. "She'd kill me!"

"So, are you two going out now?" Harry asked, as nonchalantly as he could. Ron appeared to ponder this for a moment.

"Well, I suppose so," he replied. "Not that we've actually been out anywhere together..." He suddenly looked aghast. "Merlin! That's my job, isn't it?"

"That's the general idea," Harry replied. Ron looked deeply perturbed.

"What am I going to do?" he moaned. Harry tried to suppress a snigger, but the way Ron glared at him suggested he had failed miserably.

"It was alright for you," Ron complained. "You had Hogsmeade weekends. How on earth can I take Hermione out on a date when we can't leave the grounds?"

Dean tapped Ron on the shoulder.

"Well, you'd better think of something quick," he said. "Your ladyship's on her way over here."

Harry turned around, and saw Hermione saunter into the Great Hall, looking straight ahead of her, as though she had something to hide.

"Morning, Hermione," Dean, Neville and Harry said simultaneously, which resulted in Hermione glaring at them suspiciously.

"Morning," she replied uncertainly. She looked across at Ron.

"What's the matter?" she asked. Ron shrugged.

"Nothing important," he replied, taking her hand in his. "Have some breakfast!"

Hermione remained standing, and continued to stare at Ron.

"They know, don't they?" she half asked, half stated. Ron shrugged.

"Well, you know Hogwarts," he said nervously. "These things do out around here..."

Hermione looked annoyed for a moment, the she broke into a smile.

"So, I take it you aren't embarrassed?" she teased. Ron looked at her in mock outrage.

"Hermione! How could you think such things?" he scolded. Hermione merely smiled darkly.

"I know you, remember?" she replied, before sitting down next to Ron and Harry.

They continued in this vein for much for breakfast- Harry wasn't able to tell Ron or Hermione about the situation with Ameline and the Aurors because Dean, Neville and Seamus were sitting close to them, teasing Ron and Hermione mercilessly about their relationship before it had even begun. Eventually, Hermione stood up, and pulled her jumper a little further over the waistband of her jeans.

"Right; I'm off," she announced. "I've got a lot of revision to catch up on."

Ron casually reached for her hand, and she shivered.

"Ooh," she gasped. Ron raised an eyebrow and grinned at her.

"If I can do that by holding your hand, imagine what I can do with a kiss," he teased. Hermione looked sharply at him, but the rest of her body language indicated she was very uneasy.

"No, not that kind of 'ooh', Ron. Didn't you feel it; that coldness?" she asked in frightened tones, looking around at everyone present. Within seconds of her comment, Harry felt exactly what she was on about- all the warmth seemed to have been sucked out of the room; and Harry began to hear unnervingly familiar screams in his thoughts. He tried to block out the feeling of dread; whatever he was imagining, it couldn't be happening. There could not be Dementors anywhere near Hogwarts.

He opened his eyes, and looked around. To his horror, three Dementors were circling the doors to the Great Hall, like spectral vultures. The students present began to scream- or tried to scream. Harry knew all too well the difficulties in such an action, when all your worst fears and thoughts turned in on yourself, leaving you with no escape. He could see the majority of the students begin to cower, and the teachers jump up in shock. Then, the entire outside world seemed to fade slowly away, and Harry was faced with seeing that flash of green light, and hearing his mother's please again.

Mustering all his courage, Harry instinctively reached for his wand. He remembered what he had learned from Persephone about trying to clear your mind of all emotions- something that had become second nature during wandless magic training, or his Occlumency practise. However, he soon realised that it was very difficult when faced with Dementors who were forcing you to relive the worst moments of your life...

"Expecto patronum!" he yelled, and a faint wisp of white smoke emitted from his wand tip. Cursing, he concentrated, and tried again.

"Expecto patronum!" he shouted once more, and this time the wisp of smoke rolled out into a dense cloud, which swiftly took on the shape of a stag. It charged towards the Dementors, and they backed away a little, but remained in the room, apparently trying to reach the High Table. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Ron and Hermione pull their wands out and try the Patronus charm themselves, but a loud battle cry soon distracted them.

"Dextera, Sinistra; Expecto patronum!" Persephone roared, holding out her arms and staggering towards the group of Dementors. The other members of staff looked concerned- Snape looked absolutely furious with her.

Suddenly, a high-pitched ringing song floated through the air, and Harry thought Fawkes, the Phoenix that once belonged to Dumbledore, had flown to the Great Hall. Then he noticed the two huge white creatures that glided elegantly through the air. First they melded together to form one even bigger Phoenix, its shrill cry distracting the Dementors and causing them to separate from their group. Once that happened, the Phoenix split into two, then four, then eight, then sixteen smaller birds, which swarmed the Dementors as they tried to get away. Harry caught Ron and Hermione's eye, and mouthed, "Let's attack them again."

Ron and Hermione nodded, and each held out their wands. Feeling more confident this time around, Harry pointed his wand at the nearest Dementor and commanded, "Expecto patronum!"

Ron and Hermione evidently had some very happy thoughts going on in their heads, for they too each produced a corporeal Patronus that charged at the remaining Dementors. Then something bewildering happened- smoke began to emanate from each of the Dementors, until suddenly, they exploded in a brief flash of white light, leaving nothing behind except for mouldering remains. Somehow, the combined Patronus charms had caused the Dementors to decompose at an astronomical rate. Why, Harry didn't know- perhaps the reason that Dementors are repelled by the Patronus charm was not because it worked purely as a deterrent, but because it was a very real threat to their existence- or non-existence, as the case may be.

"Come on, everyone- through here, please. This door will take you all straight to your respective common rooms," Hermione called out, before pointing her wand at the nearest wall and muttering some incantation. The wall swiftly buckled and spat out a door, which Ron rushed forward and opened.

"You heard Hermione; single file now," he said, ushering the frightened looking students through the doorway. Harry wondered why he had never known about this door, and then guessed it was probably something that was only ever known to the Head Boy and Girl- or at least, was a very new addition to the school that was only known to the Head Boy and Girl.

A sudden crash of furniture distracted Harry from his thoughts, and he soon heard Hermione gasp in horror. He whirled around, and saw that Persephone had apparently collapsed against the Ravenclaw table, knocking Alex sideways. Snape soon rushed to help her to her feet. She stood uncertainly as he held her in his arms, before he guided her into the nearest chair and picked up her walking cane.

"Are you alright?" Snape asked her. Persephone nodded, and it was then that Harry noticed a trickle of blood run down from her nose over her upper lip, which soon increased in flow until her entire chin was drenched in blood. Harry remembered Persephone's odd physical reaction to channelling the same spell through both her right and left hands last year, at the Dursley's house, and he assumed that this time had caused a similar adverse reaction. Snape muttered something under his breath, before pulling out a handkerchief from his robe pocket and wiping her face carefully. He then pressed the fabric to Persephone's nose.

"Now, lean forward and pinch your nose," he ordered. Persephone glared at him.

"I'm not an infant, you know," she retorted, but never the less she kept the handkerchief pressed to her nose, stemming the flow of blood.

"That was foolish of you," Snape remonstrated. "You could have got yourself seriously hurt!"

"Well, I didn't, did I?" Persephone spat back. "I couldn't exactly leave a hall of kids to the mercy of a bunch of Demen..." She trailed off, and looked around, horror etched into her features.

"What's the matter?" McGonagall asked.

"The Dementors," she replied. "Why didn't they attack the kids? Even with what I did, they had time to feed off a few..."

Snape's expression swiftly echoed that of Persephone.

"There's only one logical explanation..."

With those words, Persephone stuffed the handkerchief back in Snape's hand, got up to her feet and legged it out of the Great Hall, her walking cane clicking speedily on the floor. She passed a rather puzzled Hagrid, who had just entered the Great Hall, oblivious to the previous situation.

"Where's she off ter?" he asked, scratching his head. Alex, who was now clutching her stomach in discomfort, jerked her head towards the doorway.

"To contact the Ministry, I'd wager," she replied, as Snape guided her over to a chair.

"It looks as though Dementors were sent here to attack the Brethren members," he explained. "If that's the case, then Voldemort wanted them all out of the way of somewhere else."

McGonagall hissed loudly.

"They've gone for the Ministry for Magic building," she spat, and the fierceness of her reaction startled Harry. "Or possibly Azkaban..."

"I'm on it," Alex announced, before struggling to pull herself up into a standing position. She pulled out her transfigured communication device, and spoke into it.

"All units, all units; this is an emergency- Alpha, Beta, Gamma- go to the Ministry building, retrieve any casualties and restrain any suspects. Epsilon, Theta, Omega- go to the Azkaban fortress. The mission is search and rescue, but use force if necessary. Stop all possible escapes."

She clicked her communication device, and pocketed it again.

"I've got to go and help," she said, before grunting in pain as she tried to stand up.

"You're in no fit state to go anywhere just yet," McGonagall urged, kindly. "Just stay and rest. Persephone's gone to do what she can..."

"And she's in no fit state to go gallivanting off, either," Snape retorted, as he rubbed the small of Alex's back. She appeared appreciative of the effort.

"That's really helping, you know..." she trailed off, and looked at Snape appraisingly.

"Have you been reading those books?" she asked suspiciously. Snape said nothing in reply; until he looked across in Harry's direction.

"Potter, what are you doing still standing here? Did the evacuation order somehow fail to penetrate that thick skull of yours?" he spat angrily. Not even bothering to reply, Harry followed the other students through the new emergency exit, wondering just how much damage Voldemort had caused this time.