Snake

Chapter Four

"What are we training for?" Professor Star asked, looking around the class.

"Isn't it obvious?" Seamus asked loudly, prompting hurriedly covered giggles.

"Humor me, Mr. Finnegan," she said, smiling slightly.

"Evil?" Hermione volunteered.

Draco drew a tiny snitch in the margin of his book.

"Not quite, Ms. Granger. Mr. Malfoy?" She offered another one of her little smiles to Hermione.

"Power, of course," he muttered, perfecting the snitch's wings.

"Absolutely right. It--"

"But power can be both good and evil. Hell, even Dumbledore's powerful," Harry interrupted.

"Professor Dumbledore," Professor Star said. "Yes, powerful he is, but if you'd allow me to continue, I was going to say that it's how you harness that power." She flipped a lock of hair off her neck and paused.

Draco looked up, surprised.

"Magical power doesn't only come from what ability you've inherited," she continued. "It depends greatly on your emotional leaning. If the mind is strong, the magic itself will become stronger. It's all about your subconscious leaning."

The students were clearly impressed.

"A time comes when a wizard becomes so powerful, he has to forcibly restrain himself from slipping over to the dark side. Well, they'll restrain themselves only if they are actually on the side of good." She smiled sadly. "In actuality, there is no good and evil. It's just how you use your abilities." She walked to her desk and perched on it.

"I thought evil was the absence of good and the other way around," Neville said.

"These things don't have a material presence. They are merely states of being," the Professor said, looking Neville over as though studying him.

"It's the people who have a presence," Draco said, his voice scratchy. "With evil, it's cold. Even colder than being around a Dementor."

He was painfully aware that everyone was looking at him.

"Stagnant evil is colder," he continued wryly.

"Good point, Mr. Malfoy. And I think that's enough discussion for today. I want you to come up here, one by one, so I can assess your abilities." She retreated to her chair and flipped open the attendance register, leaving Draco to his thoughts.

No matter how often he used the Pensieve, Draco would always remember Voldemort's presence in his cell. Dumbledore had been kind enough to wipe the memories of his friends and everyone else left alive but drew the line at Draco himself. Might affect you in more ways than one, son. And then he'd given him a Pensieve. Use it well, and don't hesitate.

Professor Star called up the students one by one and had them touch a sheet of blue parchment with their wands.

"It's an Assessment Chart!" Hermione hissed after she returned. "She can see our level of magical maturity on it!"

"Herm, I don't care," Ron groaned from behind his hands.

"How come you know what it's like being in Voldemort's presence?" Harry asked Draco curiously.

"You told me," Draco lied, trying hard to forget the time he had spent in his cell.

"Malfoy!" the Professor called.

Draco slid off the bench and slunk over to her. He held out his wand and touched the parchment where she showed him. The sheet pulsed.

"Oh my," she whispered and looked at him, her eyes dark and troubled.

"You have a great talent hidden there, Mr. Malfoy.".

He really didn't know what to say and stared fixedly at the table's edge until she allowed him to go.

When she was done, the bell rang, and she shooed them out. As Goyle lumbered out, the last to leave, she waved the door shut and studied the chart. Draco's level was almost three times that of anyone else's and it was by far, the most refined and controlled magic of any wizard his age she'd seen.

* * * * * *

"And have any of you delinquents worsened over the summer?" Snape's voice dripped with sarcasm. Suffice to say, he received no answer.

He paired Draco with Harry and told them to make a Corrosive Concoction.

"Evil git," Harry scowled, noting the potion's difficulty level.

"You mean, powerful with a leaning to good," Draco pointed out, smirking as he sliced up a glowworm.

"Hardy har har, Malfoy." Harry's scowl deepened in concentration as he held his own worm still, trying to slice it precisely in half as Draco had done.

Draco flung in a handful of stewed Kaper's leaves and glanced at Harry, who was still stuck on the wood knot and who had forgotten to put in a newt's tail.

"Potter, I hate to say this, but you've--" he started, feeling sorry for him.

"Forgotten to put in the salamander eggs as well as the newt's tail!" Snape continued conveniently, yelling in their ears. "I'll test all the potions at the end of the class and grade you accordingly," he said, and stalked off to terrorize Ron and Hermione.

Draco sighed and consoled Harry, who was desperately trying to salvage his work. Carefully following the instructions, Draco stirred the mixture three times clockwise and crossed the ladle through it seven times before adding a pinch of stardust.

Covering the cauldron, he let it stew on a low flame, and he sat back to watch Harry suffer.

By the time the class drew to a close, most of the potions had been tested. Some potions had merely sizzled the iron instead of completely corroding it, and some had burned through a few centimeters before evaporating out of existence.

"Your turn, Mr. Malfoy," Snape said tiredly. Draco sauntered up and poured a sample of potion onto a new iron block. The potion sighed its way neatly through the block and a little of Snape's desk. His potion had been even better than Hermione's.

"I see Mr. Malfoy has been the only one who actually follows the instructions, so far. Perhaps Mr. Potter has done better?" Snape switched his gaze to Harry.

Harry came up and poured his potion. Instead of corroding the metal, a few brightly colored hydrangeas sprung up and swayed gently.

"Flowers? Tell me, Potter; how did you manage to convert a Corroding Concoction into a Flowering Potion?"

The whole class was silent. Snape appeared to swell in size with anger. Harry matched him eye to eye. Suddenly, Snape deflated. "Potter, this is your second-to-last last year in Hogwarts. Can't you at least try and make correct potions?" He sounded so sincere and concerned that Harry was speechless.

"I'll tutor him, sir," Hermione said quietly.

"You do that, Granger," Snape said tiredly, and massaged his temples before dismissing the students.

"You think he's ill?" Draco asked Harry as the two of them cleared up and put away their leftover supplies.

"Maybe just preoccupied. But hey, I'm not complaining." Harry scoured out his cauldron and turned to leave.

"Dinner, sweet dinner," Draco said, stretching before running after Harry to the Great Hall.

"Fantastic! Transfiguration's next, so we'll find out something about that competition," Ron said, swallowing some pumpkin juice.

"The National Magical Aptitude Competition. It's a competition held between teams of school-age witches and wizards." Hermione folded away a copy of the Quibbler and put it in her bag.

"So why can't we participate?" Harry questioned.

"Because you need to have outstanding grades in Charms, Alchemy, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Ancient Runes, and Astronomy. Hogwarts doesn't offer Alchemy as a subject, and we haven't been trained to practice magic at that level of control and strength," Hermione said, starting in on the chicken pie.

"So which schools do take part?" Ron asked.

"Durmstrang, Beauxbatons, Pacificators, Kiligrants, and Olsands. But since the Death Eaters wiped out most of the population of Kiligrants, I suppose this year, only four of them will be in the running," Hermione said, carefully dabbing her mouth with a napkin.

"Anything else?" Draco was actually interested now.

"Well, I haven't read all of Viktor's letter, so that's all." Hermione picked up her bag and got up. "Hurry up or we'll be late."

"I suppose you'll want to know about that competition," Professor McGonagall said resignedly when she saw that no one had taken out his or her books or wands.

Draco sat back and listened absently as she told the class most of what Hermione had already told them. He waited patiently, valiantly ignoring Harry's heartfelt sighs as he watched Ron and Hermione almost completely absorbed in each other.

"I want you all to be extremely glad that you are ineligible for participation. Survival is the main goal for all the competitors. The competition is cutthroat. In the last contest, out of a total of twenty-five students, three survived." All the girls gasped.

"Besides, the kind of magic those students learn is far more advanced and difficult, and none of you can possibly hope to live past even the first challenge. There are a number of tasks, with a specific goal or target for each. No points are awarded. The one who manages to go to the next challenge is the one left alive or left standing." The Professor observed their looks of apprehension with satisfaction.

"Now that I've succeeded in instilling some fear in you, let's continue with Transfiguring furniture."

* * * * * *

Dumbledore's Office

"This is bad, Albus," Professor McGonagall said, sinking into a chair.

"Stay calm, Minerva. Percy, what news?" Dumbledore said, and turned to the small group of people assembled in his office.

"We've received intelligence that Voldemort's closest group of Death Eaters is planning to execute an attack on one of the schools. Since the most powerful schools left are Hogwarts, Durmstrang, Olsands, and Beauxbatons, the target must be one of these. And since Potter's here, the chances of Hogwarts being the target are great." Percy avoided Fudge's gaze.

"Nonsense! There are no Death Eaters left! We cleared them all off!" Fudge ranted.

"Cornelius, are you too blind to see that everyone except you is preparing for war? Any school could be a target. They are aiming to wipe out the most powerful underage wizards there are. Those are only in Durmstrang and Hogwarts." Dumbledore looked at Fudge with barely concealed distaste.

"I'll send an owl to Gerhardt." Snape stood up.

"Wait, make sure you include full details of our information. And ask for an immediate answer confirming protective measures," Dumbledore said.

"What if the owl is intercepted?" Percy asked.

"We have to take that chance. The Floo channels are far too risky." Snape said, and left.

"This is madness, Dumbledore! No Death Eater in their right mind would think of attacking a school!" said Fudge.

"The same madness that sent Dementors after a student?" Minerva yelled, her color high.

"Minerva, perhaps you'd like to go and help Professor Flitwick with some of the defenses," Dumbledore suggested kindly.

* * * * * *

"What are the professors so uptight about?" Ron asked when Professor Sprout told them off for the seventh time, reducing Parvati to tears.

"No idea," Harry said absently, using a Scouring Charm under his nails and almost ripping them out.

"Harry! Let me," Lavender said, and healed his fingers, holding his hands a little longer than was necessary.

"Ooooh! Harry, let me!" Ron mimicked, his voice high.

"So? She likes him. I mean, Harry has lost his scrawny, starved, untidy look. He's quite good-looking, actually. Nothing like Draco's strong, silent, and mysterious handsomeness, but a sweet, I'll-probably-die-saving-the-world-and-I-don't-like-it-one-bit look," Hermione said matter-of-factly, and sprinkled some sugar for the water baby she was looking after.

Ron stared. The water baby he was supposed to be tending squealed sadly at the lack of attention.

"You actually think of all that stuff when you look at your friends?" Harry asked, shocked.

"Of course! If you end up living in the same dormitory as Parvati and Lavender for five years, they grow on you. I'm so glad that we now have our own rooms. I only have to listen to Ginny." Hermione made faces at the baby.

"What...do they think...of me?" Ron asked unsteadily, watching Parvati coat her water baby's fingernails with her favorite nail polish.

"Doesn't matter! By the time they start on you and Dean and Seamus, I'm usually asleep. They discuss Draco most of the time, then Harry, and then that Ravenclaw." She ran a comb through her own hair and handed her tank to Professor Sprout, who observed the baby's good health and awarded her twenty points.

Ron looked at Harry and then at his hands.

"Relax. If she says she likes you then she probably does," said Harry.

"Yeah! At least she doesn't cry when I kiss her!" Ron cheered up, and Harry felt even gloomier.

"You look like your best friend stabbed you in the back," Draco said conversationally as he caught up with Harry on his way inside.

"Just about."

"Cheer up. Ask Brown out. Hogsmeade weekend is around the corner. Here, have a piece of chocolate," Draco said grandly, and offered him half a bar of chocolate.

"That's female comfort food," Harry pointed out.

"Well, you can eat it in the privacy of your curtained bed. Ron won't join you for quite some time, so you'll have the room to yourself," Draco suggested.

"See anything unusual about the teachers?" Harry changed the subject and nibbled appreciatively on the Honey Nut Delight.

"Well, Flitwick nearly ripped my head off when my Glitter Charm was a little off the mark; otherwise, nothing unusual," Draco said off-handedly, and walked with the self-satisfied air of one who just had everything happen right.

* * * * * *

"Something's going to happen. I can just feel it!" Lavender gurgled happily at Harry's side at the Gryffindor table. He sighed deeply but was very glad for the company. Moments after the food appeared, Draco slid onto the bench in front of Harry and gave him a look honeyed with satire.

"You have very obvious Seer talent in you, Brown. Tell me, is the thing that's going to happen good or terrifyingly bad?" Draco said.

Lavender stared at him, first in surprise and then in relief. "You're not joking!" she was shocked and awed. Harry noticed that Draco cut a sharp and imposing stature and was one of the most gifted listeners he had ever met. He saw that Lavender was staring into his gray eyes and frowning. "Someone you hold really dear is going to get hurt. And...and...the wizarding world is going to have a shock."

Draco's eyes crinkled in surprise, and Harry looked at Lavender with renewed respect.

"I'm really sorry! I could be more exact, of course, but I don't have a crystal ball," Lavender babbled when she noted Draco's concern.

"What if I got you a crystal ball?" he asked slowly. He put his hand in his pocket and took his out. He passed it over to Lavender.

She weighed it in each hand. Hiding it from the others, she looked into it. To Harry and Draco's surprise, the color of her eyes faded from a clear blue to resemble the fogginess of the ball. She trembled slightly, blinked, and looked at Draco.

"Great evil will strike the last of the line, and the path of escape will be perilous. Comrades will fall, and the flame of hope will flicker," Lavender said.

"Merlin!" Draco whispered. His pale skin had lost its healthy glow.

"Excuse me," Lavender murmured, and left the table, hurrying out of the Great Hall.

"You believe her?" Harry asked in surprise, and handed the ball back, marveling at its exquisitely carved filigree stand.

"Come on, Potter, did you look at her? Of course I believe her," Draco said, and turned to look at the teacher's table: all of the professors were engaged in conversation with each other.

"Dumbledore, do you think that's wise?" Professor Sinistra asked in a whisper as the headmaster stood up and clapped his hands for attention.

"I'm afraid we must, Loren. Latimer Gerhardt is never late in returning an owl. It's already been more than five hours. I think it's safe to suspect the worst," Dumbledore replied, and turned to the students.

"I have some bad news, students. Today, the Ministry received information about a planned Death Eater attack on one of the magical schools. We suspect that Hogwarts or Durmstrang will be the prime targets."

"Viktor!" Hermione moaned.

"Would you react like that if I was in danger?" Ron asked her sourly.

"We sent an owl alerting the Headmaster of Durmstrang about the situation. We haven't received an answer." Dumbledore paused. Dead silence hung in the Great Hall.

"We have no safe way to ascertain the fate of the school. If anyone has any suggestions, the Professors will be pleased to hear them." Dumbledore sat down, and Snape and Sprout stood up, ready to call on any student who might have an idea.

"He's asking us for help?" Ron hissed loudly.

"Maybe because Fudge doesn't believe the threat and has forbidden all the Aurors from communicating with the school. At least that's what I think." Dean said somberly.

Ginny raised her hand timidly. Professor Sprout pointed to her. "There's a spell that can project images from any location we want. Why can't we use that?"

"You idiot! They probably already thought of that!" Pansy spat.

"Ms. Parkinson! We did think of it. But for a variety of reasons, we wanted to do the projection in front of the students. The Minister--" Snape sniffed, "thought that the students were not strong enough to stomach the disturbing images you might see."

"Professor, I think I speak for all of us when I say that not only are we strong enough to view the incidents at Durmstrang, we deserve to see them." A Hufflepuff seventh-year spoke.

"And anyone who does not want to see what's happening to those students, they should be allowed to leave." This time it was Neville.

The students turned around to see who was brave enough to stand the stigma of cowardice. A few first-years quivered, but no one got up.

"I think we're quite prepared. Students, if you'd get up, we'll dispose of the tables," Snape said. The students quickly vacated their tables. Snape magically pushed them to one side of the Hall and arranged the long benches in a semi-circle; each raised a foot above the other.

Everyone rushed for a place, and all were seated and silent in a few minutes.

"Severus, the fireplace," Professor Flitwick reminded him. Snape waved his wand, and a large fireplace appeared in place of the Great Doors.

All the teachers except Dumbledore stepped down and took their places.

Dumbledore set a fire in the grate and flung in some Floo powder Professor Trelawney had levitated from her attic.

"Projectus." Professor Flitwick cast the spell from his raised armchair.

"Latimer Gerhardt!" Dumbledore said to the fire. In a moment, an image of a destroyed office was projected onto the wall facing them. Dumbledore repeated the name, but no one answered the call.

"Professor, what if the Death Eaters are monitoring the Floo channels?" a tiny Ravenclaw asked.

"It is possible that they are. But I believe they are far busier making sure no one tries to interfere," Professor McGonagall answered.

"Create an Apparition circle large enough to allow one person, Loren," Dumbledore said to Professor Sinistra, who looked surprised but traced an outline on the floor as directed. Dumbledore stepped back.

"What now?" Draco asked him.

"We wait."

Uncomfortable moments passed, and the unrest grew. Hermione fidgeted with her hair, and Harry played with his wand. The professors conversed among themselves quietly, and the prefects sought to pacify the younger students, who were well prepared to burst into tears. Madame Pomfrey dispensed many Calming Doses before the Apparition.

A loud crack stilled everyone, who turned to look at the Apparition circle. A tall, impressively built man appeared and collapsed. Professor Flitwick levitated him closer and inspected him.

"Professor Gerhardt!" Draco exclaimed. The man was almost dead from his wounds. His hair color was indiscernible under the blood.

"They are capturing my students!" he gasped, before falling unconscious.

"Poppy, please levitate Professor Gerhardt into the Hospital Wing," Dumbledore said sharply, pressing his fingers to his neck.

The floor clear of the bleeding headmaster, the students and professors turned their attention to the wall once more. Professor Trelawney was charming the channel to show the main scene of the battle.

"Mr. Malfoy, is Ms. Frost still going to Durmstrang?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes," Draco replied, his voice dry.

"Good, it's her progress we're going to follow." The scene showed an empty classroom, and then it blurred and refocused to show what looked like a common room. The spell focused on a group of students dressed in Muggle clothes, sitting on the floor in a circle. They were laughing uproariously.

"Keli! Quit it!" Draco recognized Nayyah's voice between her giggles. He saw Rick lying on his stomach and talking to someone else. Nayyah and a pretty dark-haired girl were playing chess.

"They don't know!" Hermione exclaimed.

"The defenses must have closed all internal communications," Professor McGonagall said.

The talking and laughing stopped at a faint and muffled "Avada Kedavra." All of them stood up, looking towards the door, holding their wands ready.

"All students will vacate their dormitories and head to the nearest escape tunnel. Remain calm, and don't hesitate to defend yourself. I wish you all luck." A voice resounded over them.

"Let's go. Split up. Head towards the Reception Hall, and help out if possible, and then go to the escape pathways," ordered a burly boy and immediately headed to one of the doors.

"Whatever you do, don't let them capture you. Either escape, project yourself to a safe location, or Apparate," a girl yelled over the sudden din of stamping feet.

"What about Portkeys?" a short, round witch asked.

"Sure, as long as you're fast."

The spell followed Nayyah, Keligra, and a young, terrified witch. They started to run. The Hall in Hogwarts was silent.

"Nayyah, don't leave me!" the girl wailed as they arrived at the head of a long corridor.

"There's an Apparition ring in here. Go!" Natalie commanded and pushed her into a room. They then raced down the corridor towards the Hall, vaulting down staircases.

Rick and the boy who had directed them initially joined them in the lounge. Rick had a large cut across his face, and the other boy was nursing his arm.

"Aticus, what happened?" Keli asked him.

"Bloody Death Eaters. The Cutting Curse is very popular today," Aticus said.

And they were trapped. Death Eaters Apparated in multitudes around them, their wands focused on them.

"Get Frost," one of them said coldly. Before anyone could react, a curse separated Natalie from the others.

"Atmaista!" Natalie screamed. Green tentacles sprouted from the ground under her and swept away most of the Death Eaters, clearing a path to the door.

"Crucio!" Fifteen curses smashed into her, and she was thrown into a tapestry. The crystal ball in her pocket rolled out and shattered, spreading white mist in languid, indolent swirls.

"Nayyah! Get out of here!" Keli screamed. The Death Eaters strode towards Natalie, completely certain that they had her immobilized, their masks glinting faintly. To everyone's shock, she got up slowly, wiping blood from her mouth, and looked around the lounge for an instant before raising her wand.

"Locomotor Projectus," she said clearly, and disappeared.

The Dark Mark floated above the castle in celebration of the Dark victory.