Hogwarts, A New History

Where we last left off, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was in a panic over the sudden disappearance of their headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, considered the greatest wizard of modern times. But how could he be so great if he vanishes for no reason? Or maybe he's just a stupid git who-

"Get out of here, Peaves!!!" Harry shouted at the little man in the corridor, who zoomed off with his tongue out. "Stupid poltergeist, trying to narrate the story. Sorry about that, folks!!!"

Ron, Hermione and he were on their way to Transfiguration, where they hoped to squeeze some information out of Professor McGonagall about the current issue. If anyone knew the answers, she would.

"In recent light of the event," she started at the beginning of the class, "we will wait patiently for a couple days." She allowed herself a sigh. "This might not be a serious situation. Sometimes in an emergency, the Ministry of Magic will transport people to their office or relatives will."

Seamus' hand was in the air immediately.

"Yes, Mr. Finnigan?" she asked sharply.

"But what if it is a serious situation, Professor?"

"Nonsense!" she snapped. "Nothing will happen to Dumbledore, this isn't serious! Cornelius Fudge probably needed to see him for something, that's all!" She looked distinctly ruffled. "We will continue with the lesson! Now today I want you to transfigure your goose into an egg."

Hermione came back from the lesson looking at perfect peace. "What are you so happy about?" Ron asked as she sped down the hall.

"Professor McGonagall's right, isn't she?" she asked him. "Dumbledore's probably doing Fudge's work right now, as usual."

"You're just so happy because she said your egg was egg-shaped," Ron mumbled. His still had the shape of the goose.

First years were still going down the halls cautiously in groups of five. The second years and above were only somewhat affected, because most, like Hermione, believed what Professor McGonagall had told them.

"Well, what will we do 'til then?" Ron asked spitefully. "Snape keeps swaggering about like he owns the school!"

"We just have to sit tight," she said impatiently. "And lessons are still on, why don't you start paying more attention in class?"

"Harry!" came a shout from down the corridor. Fred and George came running up to the three of them. "Harry, we want a practice tonight."

"Actually, now," Fred added.

Gloom settled over Harry as he anticipated another disaster for a Quidditch practice. Sadly he waved goodbye to Hermione, who headed for the library to start on Snape's workload.

Slowly up in Gryffindor Tower, he fetched his Firebolt and went over to a makeshift altar next to his bed. "Please, please, make this a good practice," he begged it. He'd made the altar after the last meeting. Following the rest of the team, they headed down to the pitch on the grounds.

"Hey, George, why aren't we going in?" Angelina asked as Fred and George wandered past the locker rooms.

"We don't need to go in there. Too many bad memories," he said, shuttering. "We want to make a fresh start."

"We'll still have fun," Fred said, "but we've been thinking about what awful heads of the team we've been. You know, letting you do what you want instead of yelling at you and waking you at five in the morn."

Katie Bell crossed her arms and fumed, obviously thinking that this was just another act. "We have some strategies for you all," George went on, and the two of them starting going through them. Harry's feet began to ache from standing before they were done. Finally he heard George's voice in the distance say, "Let's get started."

Fred and George's new method of coaching seemed to work. They went to each player and worked with them individually, and in the last half hour they joined together and played a mock game of Quidditch.

"That was the best practice we've had in weeks!" Ron whispered at the end.

"Yeah, you were great with that swerving block of the lower goalpost," Harry told him enthusiastically.

It was almost six 'o' clock, time for dinner. Tired but satisfied, Harry and Ron headed for their usual spot down the Gryffindor table.

"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked Neville, who shrugged in reply.

"Don't worry, Harry," Ron reassured him. "She obviously thought homework was more important than eating." He picked up his knife and fork and began cutting through a pot roast.

Harry glanced up at the staff table and his frown deepened. The golden chair in the middle was still completely empty. Professor McGonagall kept glancing at it nervously. Snape was smirking, one hand rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Flitwick looked thoroughly depressed. Harry thought numbly of what Divination would be like tomorrow. It was bad enough when Professor Trelawney still kept finding ways for him to die. Now she had some new material to use; Dumbledore's disappearance.

He glanced around the hall. Fred and George were deep in conversation with Lee Jordan, shaking with laughter. Cho Chang was staring sadly at her plate. Maybe it was just Harry, but the Great Hall looked so much emptier without the foreign students, and especially without Dumbledore. An odd spectacle caught his eye.

Crabbe and Goyle were sitting right next to each other, no Malfoy in between. Harry wondered if he'd ever seen that before. Crabbe and Goyle seemed to take up even more space than usual without Malfoy. Harry pointed this out to Ron, who sniggered.

"He's been acting rather odd lately hasn't he?" Ron asked.

"Maybe he vanished just like Dumbledore. That would be a favor to all of us."

"No, Harry. I mean, he hasn't messed with you for a couple weeks. He's been really quiet during lessons. Wonder if he's talking to anyone."

"It serves him right for embarrassing me in front of the whole school. His stupid Insta-tears, I bet he thought I'd feel sorry for him."

"I don't know, Harry," Ron said worriedly. Harry put full concentration into his dinner.

Advanced Arithmancy Strategies lay underneath her arms, which cradled her head as she drifted into sleep. Then she was falling, falling into blackness that kept swirling and swirling. She screamed. There was no sound.

Heavily, she landed on an invisible floor in the middle of the black tunnel. "What is this?" Hermione asked, even though the question could not be heard.

Without warning something giant and bright swooped down upon her and grasped her in sharp claws. She covered her mouth as she smelt something foul.

Suddenly it stopped. Whatever had been carrying her vanished from sight, and she was left on a stage of glass. Up above her were cages, ropes, chains and floating ghosts. She gasped as she spotted a particular one on her left.

There was no mistaking it for Dumbledore, his silvery beard and hair shining brighter than anything in the room. The eyes behind his half-moon spectacles looked sorrowful, and she was filled with an awful thought.

"You're- dead?" she whispered, frightened.

The ghost turned its head in her direction. In a muffled, far-away tone it spoke, as if from behind a wall leagues away. "Not entirely, Miss Granger," he said sadly. "I have-only left my body........but even my body isn't dead yet. My spirit lingers here," and he waved a ghostly arm over the room.

"But- who did this to you?" she asked, daring to step closer.

"This is a dimension for those trapped between life and death."

She stared. "Then you are a ghost?"

"A mere illusion," he explained. "This place was never meant to be. This state that I am in," he paused. "That all of these people are in......was done..." He began to flicker. The whole room was spinning beneath her feet, and she was being drawn backwards as if on a conveyor belt.

"No, Professor, don't go away! No, don't go away!" she screamed, her voice muted again. "Too far away..." The black space dissolved before her.

"Wha!!!!" She jerked awake in the middle of the library. She moved the pile of books from in front of her and saw Mrs. Pince glaring at her. Looking away, she returned to her book. "What was I dreaming?" she whispered softly to herself. Hermione strained her mind to find it. "Oh, why can't I remember!!" she shouted, pulling at her hair.

"Miss Granger!" came Mrs. Pince's shriek. "I have been most gracious to leave the library open for you this long, but please do not yell!" Shaking herself, she got up and dragged Hermione out.

"Can I please have these books for the night?" she asked desperately. "I still haven't finished my homework."

"Yes, now go!" the librarian snapped, and slammed the doors behind her.

As fast as she could, Hermione raced back to Gryffindor Tower, still trying to remember the dream. She knew it had been important, and in her rush she even managed to knock Peeves out of the air.

"Harry! Harry, Ron!" she stopped in the middle of the common room, clutching a stitch in her chest.

"What is it? Where were you?" Ron asked, leading her to a chair. Vaguely she read his watch, which said it was 11:56.

"I was in the library. I- fell asleep, Mrs. Pince left it open for me."

Harry sighed. "Well, we've been wait-

"Shut up, I've just remembered something!!" They stared at her, offended. "Look, when I fell asleep, I had the oddest dream in the world." Hermione paused for the right words. "For some reason......ah, I can't remember it!!!"

"Oh that's an interesting dream, Hermione." Ron interrupted sarcastically.

"No. It was....it was important to something. There was black, and- and some room. "She closed her eyes, trying to keep the picture that was blurring in her mind. There had been a conversation there, and bits and pieces of it overlapped in her head. "A ghost," she whispered. "And all the people......was done...." She recalled the end clearly. She had reached her hand out to grab something, but she was being pulled backwards. "No, don't go away!" A pain crossed over her head and she screamed. "....too far away..."

The books fell from her arms and tumbled to the floor. "....too far away.... Ah!" A searing pain came across her mind like electricity.

Take her to her bed, she's ill!" Ron shouted in panic. Hermione clutched her head desperately.

"I- can't- remember!" she said through gritted teeth. "Aah!"

"Stop trying to remember!!" Harry shouted at her.

Hermione fell to the floor, still moaning in pain, but her outline getting blurry. "What's happening to her?!!!" Harry yelled, reaching down and touching her shoulder.

Lavender came over with a vile in her hand. "She needs to drink this!" She reached down and tried to put it to her mouth, and one of her hands slipped through Hermione's head. "Waahhhh!" She leapt back in horror.

Harry grabbed the vile before it fell and poured it down her throat. Instantly the vanishing stopped, and Hermione was solid again. She lay in a cold sweat on the floor.

Breath rather fast, Ron asked Lavender "What was that stuff?"

"Standard Sleeping Draft," she breathed. "It knocked her out, she won't dream or think."

Harry wiped beads of sweat from his forehead. "What was happening to her? It was like she was fading away from the inside out. I've never seen anything like it."

"Why did it hurt her to try to remember?" Ron asked.

"It matters," Lavender said. "Professor Trelawney once told me of connection dreams. After having them, you're connected to whoever put you in it, and they can take control of your actions, your mind." She looked sadly at Hermione.

"Wonder if that was it," Ron said softly. "Can you and Parvati take her up to bed?"

"Sure," Lavender replied, calling Parvati over to help. Harry watched them vanish down the other staircase.

"Long day tomorrow," he yawned. "Better get some sleep."

Ron groaned. "Double Potions, my works not done, Snape will kill me."

The next day brought a further wave of cold down onto Hogwarts castle. Harry and Ron went down to breakfast earlier than anyone else so they could finish their work before classes. Harry skimmed through his book Protection from Dark Spells, occasionally scribbling down a note or two and slopping French toast on the pages.

An hour later they went back to the Gryffindor common room to see if Hermione had woken up yet.

"Morning," she said bluntly, adjusting her robes. She looked irritable.

"Hermione, we've got to talk to you," Harry said before she could get away. "What were you talking about last night, that dream?"

She glared at him suspiciously. "What are you talking about?"

Ron was taken aback. "What do you mean? You came running to us last night about some dream you'd had, and then you started going crazy!! You don't remember any of that?"

She huffed. "If you think this is funny, it's not! I don't know what games you're playing-"

"We're not playing games!" Ron yelled, but Harry quieted him.

"Hermione," he started slowly. "Where were you last night? What were you doing?"

Still giving them funny looks, she explained. "I was in the library getting my homework done. Then I took some books to my dorm and finished my homework, then went to sleep."

"Could I see your work?"

"You are not going to cheat off my homework! How many times-"

"I'm not going to! Just let me see it!"

With a shake of her head, she pulled out several sheets of parchment. One was for Arithmancy, five for Potions, two for Runes, a study guide for her Muggle Studies class and an essay for History of Magic. Harry stared, shocked, at the paper, then looked over at Ron, who looked indifferent.

Hermione snatched the papers from him, stuffed them in her bag and headed out the portrait hole. "What's so interesting about her homework?" Ron asked blankly.

"Don't you see?" Harry asked. "She couldn't possibly have all this done, she didn't have it done when she left the library!"

"Well, maybe she woke up during the night and did it."

"Let's see. Parvati!" Harry called across the room. She came over to them. "Did Hermione wake up at all last night?"

"No, she was asleep the whole time," she answered.

Harry looked back at Ron. "Something's wrong with all of this," Harry said.

"Well, of course it is!" Ron yelled. "Teachers don't just disappear, you know!"

Harry was in a very bad mood with everything by the time Double Potions began. Snape swept into the dungeon dramatically, his cloak billowing behind him. He swung around at the front of the class. "Homework out. Now!!"

The class filtered through their bags, Neville began to whimper and Snape chuckled to himself. His face fell awkwardly. "Where is Mr. Malfoy?" he questioned Goyle.

"I don't know, sir," Goyle told him. Harry wondered if that was the first time he'd ever heard him talk.

"Does anyone know where he is?" Snape glared at the lot of them, and Neville whimpered out of fear. "Longbottom!" he snapped. "You look like you know something about this." Snape stepped down on the threshold and came to Neville's cauldron. "When was the last time you saw Mr. Malfoy?"

As scared of Snape as Neville was, he seemed to know that Snape couldn't do anything to him now. Instead of quailing under his gaze, he stuck out his chin stubbornly. "I saw him yesterday afternoon in Care of Magical Creatures, sir. Then we went back in and I didn't see him after that."

Snape seemed to have come to the conclusion that he couldn't do anything to Neville either way, and stalked off. "Vanishing potions! Hand your homework up to the front quickly."

Harry glanced to the left of the dungeon, eyes falling on the seat that Malfoy usually took. He'd never known anyone to not attend lessons, unless you included Hermione's foul-up in third year. Harry also remembered seeing Malfoy last at Care of Magical Creatures, leaning against Hagrid's cabin while he poured water down his fire crab's throat.

He concentrated on that moment. Malfoy had been all alone, set off from the rest of the group and silent. His face had been somber, but his eyes had told a different story. Mixed emotions had been swirling in them, confusion layering it all off. Harry had seen him like this almost all year. Could Ron be right? Something was wrong with him, and now he'd disappeared. Could he have disappeared like Dumbledore?

"Harry Potter!" Snape snarled. "What are you staring at?"

Harry jumped, then swallowed, trying to think of a reasonable answer. "You?"

Several Slytherins laughed. Crabbe knocked Goyle's cauldron over, which made their desk disappear. With a wave of his wand, Snape corrected it. "And ten points from Gryffindor. Think you're funny, Potter? See where it gets you."

They escaped from the dungeon almost two hours later and headed outdoors. Hermione, Ron and Harry headed down towards the lake to watch the giant squid rise from its depths. It drifted lazily over the water for a few minutes, spotted them, and disappeared beneath the blue.

"What's up, Hermione?" Ron asked. "You look awfully glum."

She sighed lightly. "I've just been thinking. I need to start doing something."

Harry laughed. "You do everything, Hermione, from homework to nagging."

She glared at him. "Harry, I want to learn how to fly properly."

He snickered. "Don't you remember how scared you were of flying in our first year?"

"Yes, and that's exactly why I want to learn! I can't go on being afraid of things and not giving them a try."

He looked at her curiously. "Why are you asking this now?"

She averted both their gazes. "I have a weird feeling. I'm just beginning to realize how little time we have in life, and that I need to make the most of it."

"What- what do you mean?" Ron questioned.

"Like I said, I have a feeling, like something's going to happen. And so I feel I need to do the things that I've avoided."

He chuckled at her. "What about your beloved homework?"

"I'll always have time for that!" she snapped. "I just have to work faster, that's all!" She breathed in deeply. "So will you two teach me? I want to be on the team next year."

They both stared at her for another minute, then answered, "sure!"

"When can we start?" she asked eagerly.

"We could start now if you want," Ron challenged her. "Oh, but you'll have to use a school broom, you know that, don't you?"

After dinner (and avoiding Fred and George so they didn't get ideas), Ron, Hermione and Harry took their brooms and a school broomstick down to the Quidditch pitch. Hermione kept sniffing nervously.

"Do you remember our flying lessons?" Harry asked curiously. He knew he didn't.

She sniffed again. "Only that they were useless."

"First you need to get accustomed to the feel of the broomstick," Ron explained. "Because if you don't it can really hurt, especially for men!"

"Alright," she replied uncertainly. She mounted the broom and gripped it as they'd been taught. "Now what?"

"Now before you go up, you need to learn how to hover," said Harry. "To do that, you need to just lift up your feet, and it should hold you in the air."

"Whoa!" She almost fell off the broom as it rose a bit from under her. "It's supposed to do that?!"

Ron laughed heartily at her. "Just calm down, alright?"

"What now!?" she asked hastily.

"Now lean forward slightly, and it should go forward. Ron, wait on the ground in case she falls."

"In case I fall???? Oh, you're very confident in me, aren't you!!!"

Harry went above her as her broom slowly lurched forward. "It's not you, it's the broom I'm worried about."

They took her through straight movements, an upward rise, a dive, and a turn. Hermione had trouble with the figure eight, and Harry and Ron had to guide her broom through the turns it refused to make. By the end of their training, the broom was giving off smoke. "I think it's time to call it a night. Back down," Harry commanded.

"I need my own broom," Hermione fumed. "Besides being slow, that one really hurts!"

"Yeah, you do, if you want to be on the house team. I don't think you're allowed to use the school's."

"Do you think you can do it, though?" Ron asked.

"Of course I can!" she snapped back. "I did fine!" Harry and Ron could tell she was a bit touchy with the subject and stayed silent as they headed in.

Hermione gasped. "What was that?"

"What?" Ron asked her.

"That noise! It came from over there." She pointed down a narrow corridor that led to the second floor. Before they could stop her, she headed off in that direction.

"Hermione, wait!" Harry shouted after her, but they followed anyway.

Hermione streaked down the corridor, straining her ears to hear the noise again. The noise had sounded like a smash, then footsteps hurrying away. Normally in the crowded corridors between classes such noises would have been normal, but not when night had fallen and most students were in their dormitories.

She rounded the corner, aware that Harry and Ron were falling back from her. She paid no attention and listened for the footsteps. They were going up a flight of stairs. The steps were light, as though taken by a smaller student, perhaps a first year.

A pause came from the source of the noise, and Hermione wondered briefly if she lost it. Out of breath, she bent over and grasped her knees, gulping in air. Regaining herself, she hurried onward silently.

"What? Malfoy?" Hermione stared off up the steps and recognized the sleek blond hair instantly.

He turned to face her, and she saw that his face was drawn tight, a sheen of sweat over his forehead. "Hermione, help me!" he pleaded, coming down the steps. He knelt and clung to the hem of her robes. "Something's after me!"

"Calm down! What are you talking about?"

His eyes darted around wildly, as if expecting something monstrous to leap out from the shadows. "I need to get away from here. I need to see Dumbledore!"

Confusion crossed her face. "Dumbledore's gone, remember?" Why not go to the teachers, what's wrong?"

"There's no time to explain, come with me!" He grabbed her arm and pulled her along with him painfully, still muttering. "Maybe if I'm with someone else it's safe, I don't know."

"Where are we going?" she asked, frightened by his panic.

"The staff room! McGonagall knows the password into Dumbledore's office!" He dragged her down a flight of stairs, making her fall. "Get up!" he yelled at her, helping her to her feet. They continued running.

"What is going on??? I don't understand!"

Without any warning he dropped to his knees, his hand falling away from her arm. They went to his head, clutching it while he moaned in pain. Hermione dropped down and put her hand on his shoulder. "What's happening, Draco? Tell me!!!"

He lifted his head and howled, eyes brimming with water. "Why? Why can't I remember?!"

Hermione gasped and was about to speak when his head fell in her lap. His eyes shut and his breathing came to a halt. Terrified, Hermione grabbed his shoulders and pulled his slack body upright. "Draco! Draco!" She began to cry for fear. Feeling for a pulse, she found one pounding weakly in his wrist.

Before she could do anything else he twitched in her grasp. She backed away, and he caught himself before he hit the floor. Hermione watched as he rose slowly and fluently, coming to his feet and towering over her on the ground.

She looked into his eyes, which had become glazed over and almost unreadable. They weren't cold but stony and looking into a place that she knew wasn't around them. His eyes met hers, not really seeing her at all. "Draco!" she yelled. "You've lost your senses!" Silently she raged, wondering why the teachers hadn't taught them how to deal with trances yet.

He knelt on one knee before her and grabbed her hand quickly before she could pull away. With the other, she reached for her wand, determined to act on this. "Petrificus totalus!". The spell was to no effect, and the jet of light penetrated only his clothing. "Mortificalus! Tarantallegra!" Wondering if her wand had simply stopped working, she breathed 'lumos,' and light shot from the tip and brought Draco's face into sharp focus.

His hands grabbed her shoulders and she felt searing pain. "What are you doing?!" she demanded. Her skin was burning, and the intense heat almost made her faint. Draco put one foot on her leg and held her down, burning her with his hands as if they were fire. Her vision swam in and out of focus.

She dropped her wand and clenched her hand around Draco's throat tightly. Despite the fact that his blank expression didn't change, she could hear his strangled voice aching for air. His grip loosened on her other hand and she swung it into the side of Draco's head as hard as she could.

He fell to the floor with a great thump, and a trickle of blood oozed onto the carpet. She knew she'd hit him hard enough to knock him out, and sat there fretting over what to do. She couldn't run for help and leave him behind, but she feared getting caught here by Filch with an unconscious Draco at her feet.

Whimpering, she grabbed the front of his collar and dragged him down the corridor, looking for an empty room she could keep him in for now, and be able to find again later.

Draco stirred again from his tangle of clothing. She let go of him and hurried out of the way, stopping twenty feet from him.

He grunted tiredly, still laying down on the ground. She watched him rub his eyes and yawn, then he rose. "What am I doing here?" he asked himself.

Sighing with relief, she walked over to him slowly. "Are you okay, Draco?" she asked cautiously.

He rubbed his head. "Granger, why are you here? I'm fine, why wouldn't I be?"

But she shook her head feverishly. "What's happened to you?"

His brows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

She resumed staring at him. "You were acting strange just now. You were not yourself and you-"

"What are you talking about!!!" he demanded. "I've been in my room this whole time, not with you!"

She gasped. "You don't- remember?" For some reason, this clicked with some random event hidden in her brain. She tried to think of what that was, but it hurt too much.

"I don't have any idea what you're talking about."

"Listen, Draco. I've tried to find more books on magick in the library, but all I can find is reprimands made against it.

"What?" Draco asked her blankly. "Why are you looking up magick?"

She glared at him angrily. "Don't play stupid with me! You're the one who asked me to look stuff up for you!"

"No, I didn't!" he yelled disgustedly. "I'd never ask you to do anything, except get away from me, you filthy mudblood!"

Stung by the insult, she raised her hand and slapped him across the face. "What's wrong with you!!?? You act like you've lost your mind, and now you pretend you don't remember asking me out."

He froze in place, looking shocked. She watched him as he concentrated, trying to grasp something that was so clearly out of reach. It was equal to the way she'd looked this past day, suddenly remembering something but not knowing what it was. He was just as lost as her, and realizing that brought back a flood of memory.

That dream, she thought. That's what's happening now. She looked at Draco, and the answer seemed to dawn on him, too.

"Something's seriously wrong with all this," he said, swearing fiercely. "Oh, and sorry for insulting you, "he added.

"No offense taken," she answered stiffly.

"I'm still trying to remember something else, but I don't understand why I can't think of it!"

"What is it?"

He sighed. "I don't know! But I know it caused all of this." He looked into the distance, and his eyes widened with fear.

"Draco? What is it?"

"Can't you feel it?" he whispered, still staring ahead, seeing something else.

"Feel what?"

He closed his eyes tightly and frowned. "Dumbledore's dead."