The New Lightning Bolt

Chapter Nine

Conference

Hermione and Ron went back to Care of Magical Creatures very shaken up. They barely put up a fight with Dumbledore to see Harry because they were in shock. Was it Harry hanging out the window, teetering on the sill between life and death? Yes it was. Although they had seen Harry in worse situations it unnerved them a bit to see Harry almost die in an event where magic wasn't the issue. Balance was. They knew Harry wasn't invincible, but they came to realize that Harry could die from ordinary every-day-stuff like...falling out a window? That couldn't be right. Voldemort, Death Eaters, or the dark arts were always thought for Harry's future demise.

"Class dismissed," came Hagrid's booming voice.

Ron and Hermione turned in their half done drawing of the fire crab and sauntered back to the castle.

"What was the point of going back to class when there was only five minutes left and when we didn't even do anything to finish our drawing," asked Hermione. "You know...I do believe that was the first time I didn't finish an assignment."

Ron normally would have made a snide remark about this statement followed by making an over exaggerated scene out of it, but the fact that Harry was just hanging out a window shut his mind off to any conversation beside the one going inside his head. Hermione noticed his silence and that he had his "thinking face" on so she didn't make any further attempts to talk to him. They walked up to the castle and went inside. Hermione followed Ron, assuming he would be heading for lunch, as she gazed off into space.

"Slytherin still sucks," Ron said as he reached the fat lady.

"Huh?" Hermione's head snapped up to look at her surroundings. She was at the Gryffindor common room entrance and Ron was walking inside. She looked totally confused. "Why are we--what about--how come..." Hermione trailed off trying to decide which question to ask first.

Ron had stopped in the middle of the archway and turned around to Hermione's sputtering episode. "Spit it out," he snapped.

Hermione gave him an evil look and decided to start at the beginning. "Why are we here?"

Ron turned around and walked into the common room leaving Hermione to follow. He headed for a big squashy armchair while responding to her question. "I am here because I need to think. You just followed me."

"I thought you were going to lunch." Hermione sat in the chair directly in front of him.

"You thought wrong."

Hermione raised an eyebrow to this. Ron was being very moody which was totally unlike him. Sure he had the Weasley Temper and had been a prat in the past, but he was claming up and this worried Hermione. Even when he had fights with Harry he always found someone else to hang around with and she was the only one to connect with at the moment. They were on the same boat...weren't they?

"What is wrong Ron," Hermione asked very concerned.

"Nothing," said Ron as he crossed his arms over his chest. "All I want is to be able to have some time to myself to think."

"Think about what?"

Ron glanced up at her in shock. "If you don't know Hermione then you must be either really thick," Hermione looked hurt, "or blind."

"I saw Harry hanging out the window just as much as you did and I am concerned for him just as much as you are, but I am not the one who is trying to be left alone, skipping meals, to supposed 'think' about the situation, when you know perfectly as well as I do that Dumbledore wouldn't lie to us concluding that Harry is indeed fine." Hermione said that very fast and she was now red in the face.

"You done?"

"No!" Hermione screamed. She paused to take a breath and lower her blood pressure. "Actually, yes, I am done," she said realized she had said what she wanted to in one long ass sentence.

Ron eyed Hermione and came out of his shell. "Look Hermione," he said as he leaned forward to take her hands. "I am sorry. I didn't mean to be so rude, but I was only trying to think about what happened. You know... to try and figure it out. Harry didn't just throw himself at the window--"

"I know that, Ron! But sulking and depriving yourself of food--"

"I am not depriving myself!"

"Yes you are," said Hermione annoyed, "because I know you too well to skip a meal and get seriously cranky afterwards...plus I can hear your stomach growling." Ron dropped Hermione's hands and sat back into his chair crossing his arms.

He stayed in that defensive position looking into the fire consumed by its dance. Immediately he started to look deeply in to his soul because the Gryffindor common room fire always brought out the deep thoughts within. Ron always loved to come to the fire at night and stare deep into its flames as he reflected on his life and its aspects. Harry was always in his life and the tight wire act he just pulled on the windowsill almost took him out. He reflected on the finer points of his school years, the ones where Malfoy wasn't insulting the trio or his family's financial state, until Hermione sigh brought him back to the real world. He glanced at her and took in her pained expression.

Hermione reached over to Ron and uncrossed his arms, grabbing his hands. It was her turn to apologies. "Look Ron," she started just as he had, "I am sorry. I didn't mean to be so rude, but you can't just come up here and sit around feeling sorry for Harry. Don't try to figure this out...I am sure Harry will tell us when he wakes up."

"But that is just it, Hermione. I don't want to wait. We sat around for three days twiddling our thumbs and now then we have to wait more because Harry decided to have himself flung out a window and nearly die."

"He didn't decide to have himself flung out a window," Hermione said in an exasperated tone. She really had hoped that he would understand the situation and grow some patients.

Ron rolled his eyes. "I know that, Mione. It was just a figure of speech."

"Oh."

"Anyways," he continued ignoring the blush that was creeping up on her face, "I just want some time to sit and think about what to do. I think that we should take matters into our own hands because I am sick of waiting."

"Ron, believe me when I say this, but I know exactly how you feel. It took all my will power not to got down to the Hospital Wing and Enervate the son of a bitch to find out what happened and if he was okay." She paused and looked down at her hands, which were still holding Ron's. "I'm sorry. It's just that I get so flustered..."

"So I see." He gave Hermione's hands a squeeze making her look up at him. "We will take this one day at a time...together."

Hermione marveled on how the conversation got switched from her trying to comfort Ron to him comforting her. She had a lot of pent up anger and frustration and was kind of embarrassed to have let Ron see it. She was always the level headed one, who tried not to show anger and tried to refrain everyone including herself from going ballistic on Malfoy's ass. She looked at Ron and saw his emotions from those windows of his soul also known as eyes. He was doing this for her.

Hermione nodded and said, "Okay."

"Come on," Ron said as he stood up.

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked as they dropped one hand, but held onto each other's with the other.

"Lunch!" Ron said as he smiled down at her. "I'm starved."

***

Bayne Premont walked down the hall with her head held high. It was a trait of Slytherin that was practically required to all first years who wanted to become the prince or princess of their year and that was what she planned to be...and maybe become the queen of Slytherin. It was widely known that Draco Malfoy was the king of Slytherin ever since his first year and she planned to over rule him by black mail. His little stunt with the Potter boy gave her quite a lot of information including his feelings. She rubbed her injured arm maliciously.

She was taught to be very observant from a very young age by her mother. Ever since her father died at the hands of Voldemort for his lack of information and observations her mother made it her life goal to make Bayne ready. They often went to impressive and very important balls to test her "skills." Bayne observed the whole picture and took notice in people's life through their mere actions like the way they sipped their wine and the way they stood. She took particular interest in the way people talked, but not what they talked about. She compared the movement of their hands, what or who they were holding, the dilation of their pupils in respect to the lighting, how wide they opened their mouths, how much they moved their lips, how fast or slow they talked, how quiet or loud their voice were, with the people they were talking to and usually got a great description about them. To a normal person it would seem like a normal conversation but to her it meant whether they were seeing another person behind their spouses back, if they wanted to ditch the ball, if they were one of Voldemort's supporters, and so on.

Bayne's mother was always impressed with her reports because she always like hearing the inside scoop on people even before their best friends knew about it. It was extremely sad to Bayne because her mother was acting like she was in middle school again and she had to know everything about every one. She supposed that her mother just wanted to know about the nice available guys out there and snag them before they went on the market so to speak.

Bayne rounded a corner and thought of what the best way to get her "throne" would be. Black mail is a very delicate operation that has to be planned precisely because surprises are not good. Besides the "throne" what would she want? Her dragon hide boots needed to be shined, her transfiguration project needed to be completed, and she wouldn't mind a neck rub. Yes, those would be good to start off with.

"What are you so smug about, Premont," asked a fellow Slitherin first year.

"You'll see," was all she said as she headed to her dormitory to plan.

***

Harry Potter was dreaming about Quidditch and he was racing after the Snitch. A green blur was coming up beside him, which turned out to be Malfoy.

"You are going down, Potter!" he yelled over his shoulder as he put on more speed.

Harry raced up beside him and asked, "When did you get your voice back?" The sound of Harry's voice almost stopped him dead in the air. When did I get my voice back?

"What are you talking about, Potter?"

"Our voices you numbskull."

The snitch disappeared and Malfoy looked thoroughly pissed off. "Now you made me lose it, Potter. Nice one." He headed off to one of the ends and began starting a new search. Harry followed him perplexed.

"..." Harry tried to think of something to say.

"Why are you following me, Potter? Go look for the Snitch somewhere else."

"When did we get our voices back? And where's your swirl?" Harry asked coming to a complete stop beside Malfoy.

"What are you talking about, Potter?"

"Does capturing Lord Voldemort ring a bell?"

Draco thought for a moment. He ran a hand through his hair and the swirl appeared. His right stuck straight up and the left side of his swirl came to greet his left eye by covering it. "You know what, Potter? It does."

"What the...?" Harry tried to say but no sound came out. Great. Now my voice goes away.

Harry.

Harry turned to look at Malfoy. The fact that he heard his voice in his head was nothing new to him, but the use of his first name was. What did you say?

Harry.

Why?

Is it a crime to say your name?

Yes! If you wish to refer to me or get my attention say Potter.

Why?

Because my first name coming from you sounds weird.

Why does it sound weird?

Harry looked down at the ground, which he was now somehow standing on. The Quidditch game and pitch were long forgotten.

Well, considering that we hate each other's guts and we have never been on a first name basis, it just sounds strange.

Why?

I just told you! And what's with the 20 questions?

Harry...

I told you, it's Potter to you.

Harry...

Knock it off, Malfoy.

Harry...

I am warning you.

Harry...

You asked for it.

Harry launched himself at Malfoy with fists raised to strike his face. Malfoy held up his own hands and caught his. Harry looked surprised and Malfoy leaned in to him staring straight into his eyes wearing his smirk.

Harry.

Harry narrowed his eyes and doubled over as Malfoy ran a fist into his stomach. Harry fell to the ground and Malfoy straddled his waist while holding his hands above his head.

Déjà vu. Huh, Harry? And with that said he leaned in and capture Harry's mouth with his.

"AHHHH!!!" Harry silently screamed as he sat straight up from his dream. "Ouch," he mouthed as he grabbed his stomach. He sat up so quick that he was sure he damaged something.

That was not déjà vu, Harry thought as moved into a sitting position on his hospital bed. He thought about his fight with Malfoy before the whole voice thing. If he remembered correctly he was the one on top, but in his dream Malfoy was. I guess it was kind of like déjà vu in some weird flip floppy way, but the last part was definitely not.

Harry shivered.

He looked around at his surroundings and tried to remember why he was in the infirmary again. The memory of Malfoy spinning in the air came to mind and so did the smoke and his hand sticking out of his cover cocoon. He remembered being throne off his bed and hitting his head hard. He reached up and found it wrapped up. A slight pain in his abdomen made him reach down for it. It was moist and when he looked at his fingers he saw blood.

So I really did rip something.

He looked around for Madame Pomfrey, but to no avail, he couldn't find her. He checked the bed next to his and found it Malfoyless. Good.

Harry didn't think he could face Malfoy right now and keep a straight face. He considered trying to hide his emotions like Malfoy did so well when a thought struck him. How was he going to keep Malfoy from finding out about this dream? As demonstrated when they first got their mind connection, Malfoy could rummage through his head. This dream was definitely something he needed to cover up, But how?

The sound of clinking bottles made him forget his ordeal temporarily. Madame Pomfrey was coming through the door carrying an armful of different shapes and sizes of bottles. She pushed the door shut behind her with her foot and started walking to her storage room when a bottle slipped from her arm. She immediately stuck out a hand to grab it, but the other bottles started fall. She tried to catch some but it was useless, so she closed her eyes and shielded her face as to not get any potion on it when the bottles broke. Nothing happened. She glanced down at the floor and the bottles were hovering inches above it. She looked over to Harry and nodded her appreciation. He placed them oh so gently on the ground as Madame Pomfrey pulled out her wand to cast a sorting charm so the bottles would go into the storage room and in their respectful places no less.

Harry grabbed his stomach and Madame Pomfrey's SSS radar went off. She bustled over to Harry and didn't bother with him about not getting her attention sooner for his problem as he had just saved her ass with the new shipment of Snape's healing potions. It would have been terrible to ask him to make more because she was clumsy and stupid enough not to put a hovering charm. She was a witch for gosh sakes...why she hadn't used Wingadrium Leviosa was beyond her.

She healed the open wounds and offered to give him some Sleeping potion, but he refused while blushing deeply. Madame Pomfrey just shrugged it off and told him not to move.

Harry Potter!

Harry jumped three feet off his bed and clutched his stomach once again.

What?

Good god, you're a sound sleeper.

What?

I have been trying to wake you up for ages now, but you kept on telling me to stop calling you that.

Harry tried not to sound embarrassed.

You wouldn't wake up so I waited a while before I yelled.

What do you want, Malfoy?

Is that any way to treat me after humiliating me like that? You owe me.

On the contrary it is you who owes me.

How?

Does me crashing through a window ring a bell?

I don't know what you are talking about.

Anyways, what did you want?

I thought you would like to see the Minister's speech on what they are going to do to Voldie.

I can't because I am stuck in a hospital no thanks to a certain someone.

Did you forget that you can look into my surroundings and actually see what I see?

Oh...

I can't believe I am mentally connected with you.

It's no picnic here.

I do believe I have lost half my brain cells by hanging around you.

If you lost half then you should be brain dead as you only had two to begin with.

Did it hurt when you thought of that? An insult with more than three words is pretty advanced for you.

Fuck you.

That was only two words, Potter. You can do better than that.

Fuck you, Swirly.

Don't call me that!

Swirly.

Shove it.

Swir-

Shut up. It's beginning.

Harry shut his mouth or rather his mind and connected with Malfoy's mind. He looked around and saw that he was off Hogwarts grounds and in some conference hall. The Minister was walking onto a plat form and several cameras were clicking. He picked up the papers on the podium and straightened them out while clearing his throat. He gave the crowd a smile before beginning.

"I called this media conference for many reasons including to give an official apology. It has come to my attention that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has indeed come back and we have evidence that he did come back as Mr. Potter claimed. On behalf of the entire Magical Community and the Ministry of Mag we wish to apologies to Harry Potter for not acting on his correct explanation for returning to Hogwarts, via portkey, with the dead body of a fellow Hogwarts student. I would like to address him personally, but he was unable to come today do to an unfortunate accident..."

A couple of witch reports sighed and there was a collective noise of pity, which Malfoy snorted at.

Give me a break.

I got the Minister's official apology and now all I need is yours.

Bite me.

Oh, thanks Swirly. That means a lot to me.

Don't call me that!

Quit your whining, Swirly. He's talking about our favorite crazed bastard.

"... captive under the highest surveillance. The public execution will be held in two months time at an unknown location that will be announced in one week. This joyful end is do to the combined efforts of Mr. Harry Potter and Mr. Draco Malfoy." The Minister pointed a hand to Draco and the crowd erupted in applause as cameras clicked almost nonstop. "They both will have front row seats to the event."

"Mr. Malfoy, what happened to your hair?"

He went to reply, but he forgot he had no voice.

"How did you do it, Mr. Malfoy?

"Was it true you father was one of Voldemort's supporters?"

"Did he do that to your hair?" He nodded, which sent another fury of camera clicks as did that scratching of quills.

"How do you feel about the execution?"

"Why did-"

The minister set some sparks off with his wand and everyone turned to look at him. He cleared his throat. "Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter will be at the execution and will answer your questions there." Every one fully turned back to the Minister. "Both the boys will answer your questions at the execution."

The Minister rambled on for another half an hour, quoting a couple of important documents and telling the time, 7 pm, in which he would announce the location of Voldemort's execution. Harry listened half-heartedly. What was this strange emotion deep inside him? Could it be jealousy? It probably was because the thought of all the attention on Malfoy stirred it up again.

Harry decided to take one last look at Malfoy's surrounding before cutting him off and getting some extra sleep, which he was glad he did because he saw a certain black dog on the outskirts of the crowd.

He's on a LEASH?

What now?

Sirius...he's on a leash. Oh. It's alright he is with Remus.

Where?

To your right. Go talk to them.

Sirius might maul me.

You owe me one.

No I don't and besides how am I going to talk when I don't have a voice?

Grab a piece of paper.

I don't see any just lying around.

Then magic one up.

He did and looked hesitant about going over to his old Professor, but then he remembered that Malfoy's are never hesitant so he walked over to him confidently. He tapped Remus on the shoulder and handed him the piece of paper.

"Hello, Mr. Malfoy. What is this for?"

Draco raised a hand to reply but was stopped by Harry's urgent voice saying, "Use your wand!" He search in his robes and pulled out his wand.

Hello, Professor. Did Professor Dumbledore tell you about our voices?

"Yes he did."

Did he tell you about the mind connection?

"Yes and he also told me how you got that swirl," he said pointing to Malfoy's hair. Draco turned a slight shade of pink.

Potter says "Hi" to both of you. He wants me to pet Sirius, but I don't think he would like that.

Remus looked flabbergasted. "How do you know about him, boy?"

The mind connection, remember. What ever he knows I know, therefore I know that that dog is actually Sirius Black and that he is actually innocent. You can ask me questions only Har-Potter would know and I'll ask him and I'll give you his answer.

Remus looked suspicious, but started to ask his questions. "What were the four of us called back in our school days?" Draco listened for Harry's answer and wrote it down.

The Marauders.

"Where did we go to transform?" He wrote his answer down.

The Shrieking Shack.

"What was James's form?"

Stag.

"What was Hagrid's dog and dragon's names?"

Fluffy and Norbert.

"Only Harry would know this, but how did the Dursleys die?"

A supposed accident in a car crash, but the Ministry officials said Uncle Vernon was under the Imperious Curse. He was ordered to take every one out in his car, including me, for a drive, but Uncle Vernon's udder hatred for me allowed him to fight back on including me in their plans. They caught the guy who put him under the Imperious and he claimed he, himself was put under the Imperious by Lucius Malfoy and ordered to Imperio the Dursleys. Veritaserum proved everything to be correct.

"Alright...I believe you, but I have one more question for you Mr. Malfoy. Why did you help capture Voldemort?"

I hate him. He killed my parents and had a Death Eater try and capture me when I went against his orders.

Sirius who had been acting like a good dog was tired of being left out of the loop. He jumped up and grabbed the paper and lied down to read it. Remus didn't even start to tell him off that it would look strange if a dog was reading, but instead he looked at Draco.

"That is a very old wand, Mr. Malfoy."

He looked down at it and so did Harry, figuratively speaking.

You brought Voldemort's?

It is the only wand I have, no thanks to a certain someone.

Yeah, well, tell him it was your father's.

"Father's," Malfoy mouthed and gave Professor Lupin a sad face. Remus nodded and bowed his head.

Sirius had finished reading the one side paper and went to stand next to Draco. He leaned against his leg as Draco petted him. Lupin sent the paper into flames and the all watched not paying any attention to the Minister of Magic.