Harry Potter and the Union of the Founders

Harry Potter
and
the Union of the Founders

by

Starsearcher

*******

Chapter One:
A Plain Morning

Harry Potter was not sure exactly what made this very morning different from the other mornings he'd woken up to at Hogwarts. Granted, it was a Saturday, meaning no classes, but it still did not feel like an ordinary day. It was the middle of his sixth year, and though he knew that a growing danger loomed in the very near future, for some reason, this morning felt different from the others had been.

He sat up in his four-poster bed, scratching his head for a moment as he stared blankly around him. The room was still fuzzy, mostly because his glasses were still on his nightstand. He quickly reached for them, adjusting them as they automatically slid down his nose. It was funny, but today, not even his old familiar glasses felt the same.

He realized he had woken up rather early. The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon, and the first rays of light were leaking into the room through the heavy curtains. He frowned slightly. Usually, he tried to sleep in as much as possible, but he could tell by the soft snores around him, and the occasional customary muttering about spiders and tap shoes from Ron, that he had beaten everyone today, even Dean, who was the earliest riser among the Gryffindor boys.

As he crept out of bed, careful to make as little noise as possible, he wondered again why he felt so awake, and so remarkably refreshed, and then quite suddenly, it hit him.

Of course.

He hadn't had a single nightmare last night.

A small grin slipped onto his face as he realized this. For the first time in almost a year, he hadn't been haunted by visions of that archway in the Ministry, or of the shadows calling him forward, or of Sirius--

The smile vanished from his face quite suddenly. Even after almost a year, thinking about Sirius like this still hurt. He forced his mind to switch gears quickly, and as he heard his stomach give a low rumble, he decided to venture for some breakfast. Slipping into his robes, he headed down the winding stairs to the Gryffindor Common Room, his shoes making soft padding noises on the cool stone.

He was almost about to head out through the portrait hole when he realized that the Common Room was not empty. Curious as to who else would be up at such an early hour, and half betting himself that it would be one of his best friends Hermione Granger studying for some test, he peered over the top of one of the large, cushy armchairs by the fireplace. A funny lump formed in his throat when he realized who it was.

Ginny Weasley was sound asleep in the corner of the large chair, her small frame almost lost amidst the cushions. On the floor in front of her lay several heavy textbooks, but Harry saw that her fingers were curled around another book, a much thinner one of bound leather. He didn't have to see her name engraved on the front cover to realize that was her diary.

It was strange, but Harry had never been able to picture Ginny as ever wanting to have anything to do with a diary again, not after their ordeal in the Chamber of Secrets during his second year at Hogwarts. But he should have known that Ginny would not let something like Lucius Malfoy's sadistic plan get in the way of her life. Weasley stubbornness, he thought with a small grin. He had rarely heard her speak of her ordeal with that cursed diary, but the very fact that she was capable of writing in one again made Harry swell a bit with pride. That was his Ginny.

Wait a minute¸ a small voice in his head chimed in. Since when had she been "his" Ginny? Despite the fact that he knew he was alone, Harry felt his cheeks warm up slightly. She looked very peaceful in the armchair, with a rather worn looking quill tucked behind her right ear, her bright signature Weasley hair spilling onto her shoulders.

Harry backed away slowly from the chair, hoping he would not wake her. She looked as though she needed to sleep for a bit longer. As quietly as he could, he exited the Common Room, heading towards the Great Hall. The castle corridors were eerily quiet so early in the morning, but he found that to his liking at the moment. He rather thought he needed the silence to think.

As predicted, the Great Hall was almost completely empty, save for a few yawning students munching on some toast, and the Grey Lady at study in the corner. The one lone occupant at the Gryffindor table was deeply absorbed in a massive volume, so much that she did not notice Harry making his way over to her.

"Morning, Hermione," Harry said loudly, and grinned as she gave a small squeak of surprise at his sudden greeting. She quickly regained her composure, however, and was now shooting Harry an amused look.

"Morning, Harry," she replied quite cheerfully, putting her book to the side. "You scared me for a minute there! What are you doing up so early?"

"I'm not really sure," Harry replied truthfully, taking a piece of toast from the platter that had appeared in the middle of the table. He was in mid-chew when he realized that Hermione was looking at him with concern on her face.

"Trouble sleeping?" she asked, her voice dropping to a low murmur as she said this. She glanced around nervously, as though making sure that the few other people in the hall could not hear them. "Are you...are you still have those nightmares?"

Harry shook his head quickly, and he saw her breathe a sigh of relief. She and his other best friend Ron Weasley were the only ones who knew about his frequent nightmares for the past year or so. Well, not actually the only ones, he corrected himself, thinking of the night at the Burrow that past summer. The night when...he shook his head again, pushing back those confusing thoughts. They were the only ones he'd actually told, however, which explained why she was looking rather worried at the moment. He smiled at her though, and to his own surprise, the smile was actually genuine. He took another bite of his toast, and then reached to scoop some eggs onto his plate.

"Really, I'm fine. I woke up this morning feeling different. I don't think I even dreamed last night, much less had a nightmare."

"Well," Hermione replied, a small smile on her face. "That's great news, Harry."

"So what are you up to?" Harry grinned, thinking about his earlier mental bet with himself. "Studying for another exam? I remember you passing your last Arithmancy one with a hundred and fourteen percent. I don't think you'll have much to worry about, Hermione."

She blushed slightly, but grinned good-naturedly in response. "No, actually, I'm reading up on a bit of research for that paper Snape assigned us. I didn't do so well on the last exam, so I thought I'd put in more effort on this paper."

Harry rolled his eyes. It was a gesture he had learned very well from Ron.

"Hermione," he said with disbelief. "You got a ninety-one. That's not exactly what I'd call 'not doing so well'."

She merely shrugged in response, and sighed softly. Harry almost knew what she was going to say next.

"I just don't want to see the look on his face if I mess up," she said quietly, and Harry felt himself feeling sorry for even questioning her.

He and Ron both knew how much her schoolwork meant to Hermione, and also, how much Severus Snape favored practically anyone else except for her (with the exception of Neville Longbottom, who had thankfully chosen against taking N.E.W.T. level potions this year, and of course, Harry himself). Snape had never shown any sort of liking to Hermione, and despite the fact that they were all on the same side of this war, his disdain for the girl whom he called an "insufferable know-it-all" was as strong as ever. Almost as much as his ire towards the Boy Who Lived.

But Harry knew Hermione was talking about a different person at the moment. The one person Snape had favored for the past six years, the one person who somehow managed to be annoyingly good at Potions, who took great delight in besting Hermione in her studies: Draco Malfoy.

Harry felt his fists clench despite the prior pleasant feeling of the morning. The thought of Draco Malfoy was enough to make him want to hit something at the moment. He would never forget that it had been Lucius Malfoy who had lead that attack at the Ministry a year ago, that it had been Lucius Malfoy who had tricked him into Voldemort's hands, ultimately leading to Sirius' death.

The painful thought again hit him hard, and he clenched his fists some more, trying to squeeze the angry feelings out of his mind. He was not about to ruin his perfectly fine, nightmare-free morning just because Malfoy was on his mind. Hermione seemed to sense what was going on in his head, and she deftly changed the subject, giving him a bright grin.

"All right there, Harry?" she asked, nibbling on a half eat muffin from her plate. "You thinking of going to the pitch today again?"

Harry nodded, though he hadn't realized it was even on his mind.

"Yeah, I reckon I'll practice a bit with Ron. If he ever wakes up that is," he added with a knowing grin. Hermione giggled slightly as well at the joke. Both of them knew that Ron Weasley had a tendency to oversleep on a regular day, and considering it was a holiday, he was likely to wake up around mid-afternoon. During his stay at the Burrow in the last weeks of the past summer, Harry had been privy to several Weasley-style wake-up calls courtesy of the twins Fred and George, which usually included some sort of swearing on Ron's part and a good deal of laughter from everyone else.

Harry felt himself smile at the memory of it. It was strange to think there was still much let to smile about. Realizing that his thoughts were again leading him down a morbid road, he shook the past summer out of his mind, and glanced over at Hermione's neatly written notes. He noticed that her quill didn't look nearly as worn as Ginny's had been.

"Hey Hermione," he started, not really sure where to begin. "When's our next Hogsmeade trip?"

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment, as though retrieving information from some far corner of her mind, and then she nodded.

"Actually, it's next weekend, if I remember correctly. Right before the winter holidays."

"Ah," Harry replied, thinking.

"Why do you ask, Harry?" Hermione said curiously, and Harry felt his face turn slightly hot.

"Erm, no reason," he replied quickly. "Just wanted to do a bit of shopping, that's all."

"Shopping for anyone in particular?" she said innocently, looking at her books still.

Harry caught the mischievous tone in Hermione's voice as she continued to write nonchalantly. He suddenly felt as though he wanted to get out of the Great Hall as quickly as possible. It was never good to underestimate the full extent of Hermione's mischievousness. Though she was a seasoned prefect (he remembered her actual surprise when she had gotten that letter again this summer, and Ron's eyes rolling nonstop for the rest of the time), she could no longer fool him with her feigned innocence and proper behavior. She was his best friend and a terribly clever witch, and as he often found out, those two did not make for a very good combination, especially when used against him. Quickly gulping down some juice, he muttered a quick excuse about needing to do some homework of his own before leaving the Great Hall. He could practically hear Hermione laughing in amusement behind him.

As he rounded the corner of the stairs, he ran headfirst into another student, knocking the both of them onto the ground. He was about to utter an embarrassed apology when he realized whom it was he had hit, and the cold, tense feeling in his mind returned quickly. A pair of angry grey-blue eyes were glaring at him, and as Harry got to his feet, his own green eyes were also fierce.

"Better watch where you're going, Potter," Draco Malfoy spat out, the familiar sneer on his face. "In a hurry, are we? Of to save the world again? Or are we still moping over that lunatic godfather of yours? Croaked, didn't he?"

Harry clenched his fists tightly. He wanted to hit Malfoy so badly at that moment, wanted to force him take back those words. But he remembered clearly Hermione's words at the start of term, when she had warned both him and Ron that they would have to do their best to avoid Draco Malfoy this year. With Voldemort back, and the obvious knowledge that Lucius Malfoy was one of the head Death Eaters, it would do no good to provoke his son. So Harry bit his lip from replying, even though his entire body was shaking with fury.

Malfoy seemed to have taken note of Harry's unusually silent approach to his taunts, and the sneer grew wider.

"What, speechless now, Potter?" he drawled, almost laughing. "Guess you Gryffindor lot aren't as brave as you're made out to be. Of course, I knew that all along. Cowards the lot of you. I reckon that Sirius Black was also quite a Gryffindor, wasn't he?" He snickered at the flash of anger that danced across Harry's face at the mention of Sirius' name and continued. "Some godfather, Potter. Did you really cry when he died? Poor silly Black. He was probably as much of a coward as you are."

Harry could take it no more. His anger with Malfoy had reached a point where he was no longer thinking clearly. He uttered a low growl and was about to launch himself at Malfoy, forgetting his wand and only knowing that he wanted to get his hands around Draco's neck, when a cool voice drew them both back into reality.

"You don't deserve to speak his name, Malfoy."

Both boys turned their heads quickly to the source of the voice. Harry felt the same funny lump form in his throat again.

Ginny stood at the top of the stairs, a furious look in her eyes. She was probably just as angry as Harry felt at the moment, but she was holding it in remarkably well. She did however look as though she was about to hex Malfoy then and there, but instead, she simply stared at Harry for a moment before addressing Malfoy again.

"Just because you and your family would rather side with the enemy than work up the nerve to stand against him doesn't mean everyone else is as spineless. You want to talk about cowardice, Malfoy?" And here her words were almost spat at him, her face screwed up in a sneer very similar to his. "Then I suggest you go look in a mirror. You might want to fix that hair and ugly sneer of yours while you're at it, too."

Both Malfoy and Harry were looking at Ginny with a mix of shock and amazement on their faces. Malfoy recovered first however, and he scowled angrily, a twisted smirk on his face as he looked between Harry and Ginny.

"Still got a crush on Potter then, Weasley?" he mocked, and turned as though to leave. "You're pathetic, Weasley. Do you still gush about him to your diary?" Here, Harry saw Ginny pale ever so slightly. Malfoy noticed as well, it seemed, for he almost howled with laughter. "You do, don't you! Hah! That's just priceless, Weasley. You'd think that you would have learned your lesson by now. Don't worry though, you will soon enough." He glanced at Harry again as he said those words. "You'll all get a lesson you won't forget," he whispered darkly, and with that, he stormed quickly down the hall, disappearing around the corner.

Harry let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and looked up at Ginny, who was staring after Malfoy with an unreadable expression on her face. She quickly snapped out of it, however, and managed to grin at Harry, who smiled back.

"Good morning, Harry."

"Morning, Ginny."

"Where are you off to so early?"

Harry shrugged.

"To the grounds, I think. I'll probably take a walk before heading to the pitch."

Ginny smiled at him and quickly descended the stairs.

"Mind if I join you? I was thinking of a little practice too."

Harry noticed then that Ginny was completely dressed and already holding a broomstick in her hands. He grinned. After Professor Umbridge had been permanently banned from ever returning to Hogwarts again, he had reassumed his position as the Gryffindor seeker. However, Ginny, who had been rather fond of the game, managed to make it back onto the team as a chaser.

Harry nodded in response to her questioning look, and together they headed to the broomcloset. They chatted easily about Quidditch, and laughed as well about Ron's oversleeping habit. Harry marveled at how nice it felt to be talking normally to Ginny. He mentally said thanks again for the fact that Ginny was now able to speak to him without blushing or turning tongue-tied, even though a small part of him admitted the attention had been rather flattering, if embarrassing. But he quickly chased the thought out of his mind as he studied her now.

For the past term, she'd become a closer member of his circle of friends, and he knew that she and Hermione had become especially close. Ron had always been a bit hesitant to allow his younger sister in on their secrets, especially considering that most of them were rather dangerous, but he had started seeing his sister in a new light after the end of term last year. No one could deny that Ginny knew how to use her hexes, and after she had put a particularly nasty one on Ron after they'd had a furious row earlier in the year, he had learned to stay on her good side and include her in their discussions.

They were outside in a matter of minutes, and Harry breathed in deeply as he walked by her side, enjoying the feeling of the wind as it swept over his body. It was a perfect day for Quidditch. The sun was shining, but its glare was partially covered by clouds, and the wind had a warm, tickling effect. There was some leftover snow on the ground from the previous week, but the weather was still rather warm for this time of the year. He glanced at Ginny, who seemed to be deep in thought. Deciding against breaking the silence, he continued walking. However, she ended up speaking a few minutes later.

"Malfoy is still an awful prat, isn't he?" she stated quite frankly. Harry felt his stomach tense slightly at the mention of the name, but Ginny was not done yet.

"I mean, honestly, you'd think he'd have a little bit of respect for the deceased. You'd think his parents would have taught him some manners at least."

Harry snorted. "Fat chance at that, Gin," he said, shrugging. "The Malfoys' idea of manners would probably to thank someone for being so cooperative after they've tortured him for a bit."

"Yeah, I know," she replied. "But I still can't help but think that they should know better. They are his parents, after all."

Harry did not know quite what to say in response to that, and so he merely shrugged again, letting his thoughts linger on in silence. Ginny seemed to have wanted to end the discussion as well, and they were both quiet on the path until they reached the pitch.

Ginny then let out a tiny little sigh as she grabbed her broomstick, and a moment later, she had shot into the air, a fresh smile on her face. Harry grinned and followed, letting out an uncharacteristically loud whoop of joy as he felt the familiar rush of flying again. It was amazing how energized he felt as he soared through the air, doing a series of loops through the golden hoops. Everything else seemed to be pushed aside, and the only thing that mattered was the air whooshing past him, the sound of his Firebolt as it raced through the sky. Later, Ginny brought out a practice snitch, and they spent the rest of the morning chasing after the small golden ball. By the time they had to head in for lunch, Harry had completely forgotten about the angry incident with Malfoy, a genuine smile on his face as he walked back to the castle.

***

Hogsmeade weekend was the one thing that got Harry through the next week. Between classes, homework, Quidditch practice, and detentions with Snape, he felt like he did not have a moment at all for rest. The only good news was that by the time he could crash into bed and sleep, he was so tired that he did not dream at all.

When finally the weekend rolled around once more, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Although he still had a mountain of homework to get through (and Hermione on his back about doing it promptly), he decided to ignore the growing stress he felt about schoolwork and focus on Hogsmeade and all of its delights.

Ron had left to do some shopping of his own, much to their surprise, and he had seemed rather awkward and secretive about it all. Hermione, who had of course finished all of her holiday shopping already, was accompanying Harry on his quest for things, giving her advice about practically everything he seemed to take even a little bit of interest in. However, knowing full well that he couldn't really buy what he really wanted to if she were there, he managed to convince her to leave him alone for a bit, playing on the whole issue of secrecy. He hadn't expected her to run off with Ginny and a few other giggling girls, but he was at least grateful to be alone.

Harry paused before opening the door to Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop. The place was relatively crowded, the smell of ink and parchment causing his head to spin a bit. He browsed through the rows and rows of quills, steering clear of some of the more ostentatious ones and finally wandering to the back of the store.

He decided on a neat, pretty gift set that consisted of five quills, white with gold detailing, and two simple but elegantly shaped inkbottles. The little set also had a dozen small envelopes, also white with gold accents, and two pads of stationary. It was perfect, Harry thought to himself. It even reminded him of her.

Trying not to think about why he was even doing this, he then grabbed another set of quills, this time of a bronze, golden hue with shiny black lines. For Hermione, he told himself, and then before he could change his mind, he quickly went up to the counter and paid for his purchases.

Some time later, after spending a few more galleons at Zonko's and Honeydukes, he met up with Ron and Hermione at the Three Broomsticks, where Ginny and her friends were also sitting and chatting.

"So what'd you get?" Ron asked curiously, peering at his bags. Harry shrugged, putting the bags down next to him.

"It's supposed to be a surprise, remember?" he said reasonably, and to his surprise, Ron left it at that. Something else had apparently drawn his attention, and his features darkened. Harry didn't have to ask to realize what it was.

"Malfoy," Ron muttered under his breath, and Harry turned to catch a glimpse of the Slytherin just entering, his cronies at his side and a few other Slytherins in tow.

"Ron," Hermione said quietly, keeping her eyes away from them. "Don't you dare start anything."

"Me!" Ron cried out, indignant. "Hermione! If anyone's going to start something, it'd be him!"

"Ron," Hermione said with a warning tone in her voice. "Can't we just enjoy today and not worry about Malfoy? Just pretend he's not there."

Harry was about to agree with her when Malfoy said something that caused the whole lot of Slytherins to burst out in laughter. He had an uneasy feeling about the subject of their laughter, a feeling that escalated when he caught Malfoy's eye for a brief moment and saw the malice reflected there.

"Let's get out of here," he muttered to Ron and Hermione, who looked rather concerned. Nodding their agreement, the two of them stood up at once, almost knocking each other over in their hurry. Ron had to reach out to grab hold of Hermione so that she wouldn't fall, and as she muttered an apology quickly, Harry caught a glimpse of Ron's face, which seemed a bit flushed. In fact, Harry thought with a slight grin, his ears were beginning to look particularly red, a telltale sign of embarrassment.

Tucking that little piece of information to the back of his mind, Harry grabbed his bags and followed his friends out the door, waving at Ginny as he headed out. Thankfully, once they were clear of Malfoy and his gang, he felt lighthearted once more, and for the rest of the afternoon, he and Ron jabbered over Quidditch tactics while Hermione laughed at their antics.

***

Ginny Weasley gave a little sigh as she watched Harry, Hermione, and Ron rush out of The Three Broomsticks. Sodding Malfoy, she thought with a spark of annoyance. She knew they had only left because Harry could not stand to be near Malfoy these days, not after last year. Because of Malfoy, they had left.

She sighed again, and then settled back to listening to her friends gushing over the seventh year Gryffindor boys, most particularly Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan. Ginny rolled her eyes; she knew they all really wanted to talk about Harry and Ron, but because she was there, they were avoiding those two boys like mad. Probably a good thing, though, she told herself. She did not know how she might react if one of her friends started talking about how "hot" her brother's body was...

Ginny made a face. That was gross.

And of course, Ron was oblivious to all of this. Typical, Ginny thought, sipping her butterbeer. Ron was always clueless when it came to girls. That had to be the only reason he and Hermione had yet to have at it, because she couldn't see what was really holding him back. Just a few moments ago, when he had her in his arms, he looked like Christmas had come early. However, knowing Ron, he would try to deny it as much as possible, while at the same time driving them all mad with his moaning and groaning over his "problems".

"Idiot," she muttered under her breath, feeling frustrated for Hermione's sake at her brother's lack of courage. Well, at least courage in this case; God knows he'd rush into anything else blindly and then proceed to make some sort of scene. Idiot, indeed. What did all these girls even see in him?

Though, Ginny amended, almost grimacing, if she could put her sisterly feelings aside for a moment, she might be able to see something redeeming in her brother. He did have the best smile of anyone she knew, and when he laughed, he laughed with everything he had. A year and a half of formal Quidditch training had also made him leaner, though just the thought of noting his physique made Ginny almost want to hurl again.

The girls were still chatting about Dean, and wondering who he might be seeing now. Ginny shrugged. Her brief fling with Dean had been fun, but in the end they had both felt rather awkward about it; they were friends, and it was strange to think of themselves as anything else. Besides, Ginny mentally added, after that time when Ron nearly throttled him for going out with her, things had gotten even more awkward.

At that thought, Ginny scowled. She hated it when she was babied by her brother. She understood that he was looking out for her, and that now that Fred and George had left school, he was her only family member at Hogwarts.

But that doesn't mean he gets to be such a prat about it! She thought angrily, remembering how he had oh so subtlety hinted at the end of last term (and over the summer) that she should find someone "better" next time, all the while casting furtive looks over at Harry while he was talking.

Harry...

Ginny shook the thoughts of the dark haired boy from her mind. Harry was her past; she'd given up on him since the beginning of 5th year, when she had decided once and for all to stop her moping. It had worked too; she hadn't realized what she'd been missing by pining after him. So what if he was her first real crush? He obviously did not feel the same way back, and as pathetic as it was to admit it, after five years, Ginny had had enough.

But she knew her friends were still hesitant to bring up Harry's name in her presence, especially in these discussions. Furthermore, she knew that Harry was the one person that these girls liked to talk about most; well, except for Malfoy, that is.

Even at the thought of Draco Malfoy, Ginny's expression darkened. She did not know why, but she had always held out some slight hope for him. Maybe it was still a part of her naivety, but she had always wanted to believe that he would not turn out like his father.

Or rather, that he would not turn out like another Slytherin prefect she had known, so long ago...

Ginny clenched her teeth. He was gone, she told herself. At least, in that form...he couldn't touch her here anymore. Hadn't that been the reason she'd forced herself to start writing in a diary again? To chase away any lingering fears of Tom Riddle from her mind?

"Gin? Ready to go?"

Ginny looked up from the table, realizing her friends were all staring at her with curious expressions on their faces. Noting that they were all standing and ready to leave, she hastily gulped down the last of her butterbeer and threw on her heavy robe and scarf.

"Where to?" she asked.

"Well," her friend Jessa said with a grin. "We're going to go check out the Shrieking Shack...you up for it?"

Ginny frowned. The Shrieking Shack was the most haunted building in Hogsmeade; everyone knew that. However, she also knew from the stories Hermione told her that it had only gotten that reputation because of poor Professor Lupin, and that now it should be quite safe and deserted. However, an uneasy feeling tugged at the corner of her mind.

"Why would you want to do that, Jess?" Ginny asked innocently, shrugging. Her other two friends, Mara and Bryana, both looked at her with surprise.

"Haven't you been listening to us at all, Ginny?" Mara said with a knowing wink. "Zoning off again? We've been talking about it for a few minutes now."

"Why the sudden interest?"

"Well, Seamus did mention that he and Dean were going to go explore for a bit later, and..."

Ginny rolled her eyes. She should have known.

"Fine fine," she said, laughing at the blushes on both Jessa and Mara's faces. The other girls headed out of The Three Broomsticks, walking cheerfully towards the looming shadow of the Shrieking Shack. Ginny did not know why, but she shivered as she followed the other girls, the unease still lodged deep into her mind even as she hurried to catch up to them.

She had a bad feeling about this.