Krum Do I Love?

Krum Do I Love? - Chapter 12

Simple

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The end of chapter 11:
Severus recognised the object. It was an emergency Portkey. The wards around Hogwarts were charmed to allow in only a handful of devices, and this tiny sphere was one of them. Under any other circumstances, Severus would have objected to using something that would raise so many alarms in the ancient school. It was able to scare even the ghosts. But although they were not facing any imminent peril, bringing a dead boy to the school hit him as a good reason to set off all the alarms and some more. Actually, if using the Portkey hadn't guaranteed havoc, he would have sought a different way to make a racket. He waited for everyone else to have their hands on the shiny ball and then moved to touch it as well.

Under colourful flares and the sound of out-of-tune trumpets, the group appeared on the Hogwarts grounds.

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It was very obvious that the alarms raised by using a Portkey to enter the Hogwarts grounds had been well spotted. Lights were lit all over the nearby castle even before Arabella had the chance to fully recover from the gut-knotting travel.

Rising to her feet, Arabella saw a group slide down the main castle staircase, hovering a few inches above the stone steps. At the head of the group, Dumbledore's white beard reflected the last of the flares. He was followed by Madam Pomfrey, McGonagall, and two more Hogwarts' professors.

"Oh my god! What happened to you?" called the nurse as she neared the newly arrived group. At first, Arabella thought she was referring to Ron, but Madam Pomfrey began conjuring bandage after bandage, waving her wand frantically in front of her, Ron's body still hidden from her sight. Madam Pomfrey reached Arabella and tried wrapping one of the bandages around her right arm.

"I'm fine," Arabella dismissed her.

"I'm the one to say who's fine and who's not, and you're definitely not fine,' said the nurse with a tender but very firm tone. You have several bad cuts, not to mention the burns." Her eyes scanned the group. "Where have you been?"

Arabella followed her gaze. For the first time, she noticed the poor appearance of them all. First, she had been too busy fighting off the hordes of Death Eaters who came running out of the flaming castle, and then she was too concerned with Ron to notice anyone else. Now, she could see that every single one of them had been harmed in the fierce battle. They were dirty with soot, and their robes had been torn beyond repair.

Snape was the only one who did not seem like he had just survived a massive attack, which was odd, since that was exactly what he had done. His only bodily damage was his scorched brows, which was not that unusual of a sight on a Potions Master. Viktor had a long gash on his thigh and was losing blood rapidly. Lee had such a large bruise above his brows that it looked like he had grown a second head. Mundungus was no better off. Under an exceptionally large tear in his shoulder-padding, she could see numerous cuts. Remus seemed unharmed at first, but when he turned, she could see clearly that there was not an inch of healthy skin left on his back. Arabella's heart skipped a beat when she turned her gaze to Sirius. He still held Ron's body as if he was merely hugging him. Judging by his very white face and the rapidly growing pool of blood, melting the snow by his feet, he wouldn't have been able to hold the body, or himself, for that matter, for much longer.

Arabella tried to move to his aid, but Madam Pomfrey held her back. "Stand still.' She commanded.

"But he's hurt!" Arabella protested.

"So are you,' said the nurse, making Arabella regard her own injuries for the first time. The arm that was being put in a bandage was sore and the white bandage was heavily stained with red. Arabella's robes were just as badly damaged as the others', and like them, she also had an incredible number of first and second degree burns, some as small as a coin, some as large as a Christmas serving plate.

Arabella tore her eyes from her sorry appearance and scanned the kids they had just rescued, or had attempted to rescue and failed, when it came to Ron. Draco was covered with so much soot, his hair was almost as black as Harry's. His eyes flared like two lanterns, looking fairer than ever in his dirt-covered face. Arabella mused that if he ever wanted to hide in the dark, he would have to use sunglasses. Draco's arm was still supporting Harry, and a good thing that it did. Harry seemed ready to drop to the ground the minute Draco let go of him.

Harry was not only physically weak, having suffered the Cruciatus Curse by the wand of the most powerful dark wizard alive; he also seemed like he had no wish to hold himself together. His usually bright emerald eyes were closed most of the time, and in the brief moment he opened them, they looked like the internal fire that usually shown in them had died out. Harry was the only one of them who was not wearing a torn robe. Indeed, he had not been wearing robes at all for nearly a day. He had Snape's cloak wrapped around his shoulders, held there mainly by Draco's hand. The cloak, which was taken from Snape's Death Eater uniform, matched perfectly the leather trousers Harry was given by Voldemort himself.

Hermione seemed lost next to Harry and Draco. She obviously wanted to do something, but had no idea what. Arabella couldn't blame her. Despite Harry's lack of cooperation, the two boys seemed to share something beyond the grasp of anyone other than them. McGonagall reached for her and placed a soothing hand on her shoulder, which quickly turned into a motherly embrace, Hermione sobbing into her teacher's shoulder.

Dumbledore reached Harry and fixed the cloak around his neck, with light patting motions. Harry looked into the headmaster's face for a few seconds and then opened his mouth, uttering a single word - 'Ron.' Dumbledore's white head turned slowly to where Sirius stood, holding Ron's body close to him. Sirius' grip tightened as the headmaster touched the cold boy held in his hands.

"We have failed, Sir," Sirius said, his voice low, but his words very clear.

"You have done your best, I'm sure," Dumbledore answered, conjuring a stretcher, which hovered eight feet high in the air. "You have managed to get the rest of them in one piece," he said, jumping up and down, trying to catch the stretcher, which hung just out of his reach. Finally, he gave up and forced it down with his wand. "Without underestimating the great loss of my student, this could have ended up even worse." He helped Sirius lower Ron's body to the stretcher, and gave the boy one last pat on the cheek as he did.

Once reasonably fixed, Arabella took some of the bandages from Madam Pomfrey's hands, allowing the nurse to see to Ron. Arabella's first urge was to go to Sirius, but he was standing next to the headmaster and the nurse. There were others who needed her more. Reciting a shallow healing spell, she turned to Viktor.

"This will take a few days to heal, but you won't have any problems playing Quidditch," Arabella told Viktor in a very motherly tone.

"I think this is a bit too tight - oof!" Viktor said, as his leg turned white under the bandage.

Arabella hardly heard him. Her mind was with Madam Pomfrey and Ron. The nurse moved her wand slowly over the boy, her face turning more serious with each motion.

"He is nearly dead," Madam Pomfrey made a loud tutting sound.

Viktor made an effort to loosen the tight knot that was blocking his circulation.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Arabella turned to him, releasing the edge of the bandage. Then, the words the nurse had just said hit her brain. She jumped, pulling the bandage with her and causing Viktor to flip over.

He gave her a surly gaze from where he landed on the snow. "I think I vill vait for the nurse, if you don't mind," he said, pulling the bandage out of her hand. He encountered no resistance, as Arabella left him lying there and ran towards Ron.

"I was sure he was dead," she said once she was close enough to be heard without having to shout.

"Not very far from it, I'm afraid," Madam Pomfrey said. "There is still someone in there, see?" She showed how her wand slightly vibrated when she held it over Ron's head and muttered some obscure spell. "But his body won't keep him there for much longer."

"He's breathing!" Arabella nearly lost her own breath.

"No, I'm afraid that's just a spell making his ribs move," Madam Pomfrey quelled her enthusiasm. "As a matter of fact, I don't know if this boy will ever breath on his own again. The odds are not good."

More people began swarming out of the castle. They held back at the foot of the stairs, looking at the group from a distance. Two girls broke off from between the crowd. One was Cho Chang, limping determinably towards them in what Arabella assumed was the first time she was out of her hospital bed in a week She used the other girl, Ginny, for support.

Arabella gasped and moved to block Ron from Ginny's view. So did Lee, Remus and Hermione. Ginny ran to Lee, thrilled to see him relatively unharmed. He collected her in his arms, making sure her head was turned away from the stretcher. As soon as Madam Pomfrey had Viktor back on his feet, he had Cho in his arms in much the same way. Ginny kissed Lee hotly, hugged him again and then said, "Where's Ron?"

The uneasiness was as thick in the air as a morning fog in the winter. Ginny's voice turned desperate. "Where's Ron?" she asked again, trying to push away from Lee.

Lee held her with more force than is normally used between lovers. "He's alive," he told her, hoping that would calm her down a little.

Ginny struggled even harder against him, and was able to get a glimpse of her deathly pale brother, floating a few feet above the equally white snow. "Ron!" she screamed.

"I'm so sorry," Lee tried to comfort her as Ginny collapsed into a sobbing heap in his arms. "I'm really, really sorry."

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Lucius Malfoy opened his eyes to a room engulfed with flames. The last thing he remembered was trying to stop the mudblood girl from snatching his son and then being hit with some curse. Snape. He distinctly remembered it had been Snape's wand that had fired the curse that had knocked him out. Dumbledore's pet. Lucius had tried to warn his master against that lying traitor, but his master had insisted that he had a plan. A lot of good that plan had brought them.

A movement in the other side of the room caught Lucius' eye. It was something beyond the dance of the flames, or rather, it was something completely contradictory to it. The darkness that emanated from it helped to slightly dim the intimidating bright light coming from the fire.

"Master,' Lucius whispered. He lowered his head to inhale a little less of the smoke and moved towards the dark figure. "We must get out of here before the castle collapses on us."

"Where is the wretched boy, and why did nobody freeze the fire?" Voldemort hissed.

"It spread too quickly, Master," Lucius answered the second question.

Voldemort fumed. "You are too weak to be worthy of serving me!" He shouted. He raised his wand and held it to the ceiling. Lucius was wracked by an uncontrollable gale of coughs, which won him a glare full of contempt.

"Where are the children?" Voldemort asked again, making it very clear that he'd better get an answer this time.

"I believe the Weasley boy is dead," Lucius answered. He watched the scales on his master's hideous face move to form half a smile. "As for the rest of them," he began, and then stopped to swallow hard. "I believe they have escaped, taking my Draco with them."

The voice that escaped Voldemort's throat was clearly not of human origins. He looked up to his raised wand and shouted a fire-freezing spell. Lucius thought it impossible to freeze an entire flaming castle, but he had been wrong. Rage had enforced the Dark Lord's spell and it was released with a force even he had not been expecting. The fire around them died out immediately. Lucius watched a blade of ice form on the ceiling, right above his master's wand. The ice spread quickly to cover the rest of the ceiling and moved down the walls with a crackling sound. Before they could comprehend what was happening, the ice proceeded to cover the floor. Lucius tried to move out of its way, but it was too late. It had advanced from all directions, closing in on the point directly beneath where it originated, leaving Voldemort and him right in the middle.

The ice touched their feet, sending a wave of chill into the back of the man who usually cherished the coldness. It then covered the two, freezing the expressions of mixed surprise and terror on their faces.

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The stairs to the Headmaster's office seemed to move even slower than usual. Even though they took Minerva upstairs, she had lost her patience, and climbed the moving staircase. She stumbled on the last step and stood in front of the closed office door, collecting herself.

She had just owled the Weasleys, after seeing that Ron was settled in the infirmary. The smaller room in the hospital wing had been almost filled with the newly arrived wounded. It would have been even more crowded, had it not been to Cho Chang and Viktor Krum leaving without saying a word as to where they where going.

Three of the four returning students (her heart cringed at the thought of the unsteady condition of the fourth) were in the office before which she stood, giving their version of the events to Dumbledore. She had already heard fragments of information from the adults in the infirmary.

Entering the room, Minerva could only see Draco's and Hermione's heads peeping over the backs of two of the chairs. Another chair stood in between the two. Dumbledore peered out the window, his back to them and his fingers intertwined just below the line of his long white hair. Stepping further inside, she saw Harry as well. He sat slumped in the chair between Draco and Hermione. His entire posture was so wilted, that his head was lower than the chair's back.

"Do you think He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named died in the fire?" Minerva heard Draco ask. His voice didn't hold much hope, which was a good thing, because Dumbledore's answer was, "No."

The old wizard turned from the window. He greeted Minerva with a nod of his head and then explained, "Voldemort cannot die." Draco and Hermione recoiled when he mentioned the name, while, if Harry had heard him, he showed no sign of it. "The most he can do is to turn back to being something less than a ghost. Somehow, I doubt that a fire had that effect on him."

All the past headmasters and headmistresses on the walls nodded gravely. All but one sleepy headmaster kept a very stern facade. Even the sleepy one did his best to appear serious in between his uncontrollable snoozes.

Dumbledore regarded the boy, who seemed dispirited by the news. "Don't worry," he said. "We'll get him yet. I promise you that young Ron Weasley's sacrifice will not be in vain."

Draco tried a feeble smile. He seemed somewhat confused by the mention of Ron, and Minerva didn't blame him. He knew nothing about Trelawney's first prophecy or Harry's future part in defeating Voldemort for good. For all she knew, what Ron did had saved their one hope of ever bringing peace to Europe. And he may pay for it with his life. Looking at Harry's condition, if Draco had any knowledge of the prophecy, he just might have been even more worried about their chances. She definitely had her doubts.

"You still didn't tell me why you left Hogwarts in the first place," Dumbledore renewed the conversation.

Draco and Hermione looked at each other and then both turned their eyed hurriedly to Harry, who still seemed deep in his own world. Finally, Hermione broke the silence. "We wanted to get your Pensieve back, Sir," she said. When no one spoke, she added, "We wanted to prove that the article in the Prophet, the one about Harry being a Death Eater, was a fraud."

"Then why not just show that he's not carrying the Dark Mark?" Minerva intervened.

"You missed that part," Dumbledore sighed.

Minerva looked at him questioningly, and saw him nod to Hermione. The girl took Harry's left arm in her hand and turned it palm up. She encountered no resistance doing that. Gently, she pulled the cloak up, exposing the soft flesh of the boy's forearm. On his milky white skin was an unmistakable red sign - a thick snake crawling out of a human skull.

The breath caught in Minerva's throat. "Harry!" she gasped.

Harry remained as still as before. As Hermione let go of his hand, he simply let it drop onto his lap, not bothering to unroll the sleeve first. To her surprise, Minerva saw Draco cover Harry's hand tenderly. For a minute, she thought she saw something black and bright flicker around them, but it was gone before she could be sure it really existed. She was certain of one thing - there was a strong connection between Harry and the Slytherin Malfoy boy.

She'd heard some stories about Draco's change from Sirius, but she still wasn't happy about it. Harry was very close to losing his best friend. The closest thing he ever had to a real family. There was Hermione, of course, but friendship between a boy and a girl had always been a complicated thing. Harry was in a vulnerable and lenient state. Draco Malfoy couldn't have been a very good influence just then.

With widening eyes, Minerva watched Draco tighten the loose cloak around Harry at exactly the same time Hermione moved to do the same. Their hands brushed a few inches above Harry's chest. Draco moved his hand forward, but Hermione drew hers back as if he was made of live embers. Looking downcast, Draco sagged back into his chair.

"The boy had been marked on Yule night," Dumbledore explained. "The same night he disappeared for several hours after he went chasing the thieves who took my Pensieve. He had nothing to do with it."

"Then he did not accept it?" Minerva asked, already relieved, because she knew her favourite students, and knew what the answer would be.

"No."

"Then it can be removed," she said. This was the first happy news she'd heard in a while.

For the first time since they'd arrived, around lunchtime, Harry made a voluntary motion. He turned to look at the head of his house, his eyes momentarily bright with their old spark. A few of the past headmasters clapped, but they were quickly hushed by the rest of them.

A dull thud sounded from the office door, like something very big had almost mindlessly bumped into it.

"Come in, Hagrid," Dumbledore called.

The door opened. Hagrid stood in the entrance, his head bowed so he could look inside. He was holding something large and white, which was mostly hidden in his huge arms. That object must have been very heavy, because circles of sweat decorated Hagrid's shirt, and he was panting heavily.

The half-giant stepped into the room, his thick tangled hair brushing the top of the doorframe. He gently placed the heavy object on the headmaster's desk, which sagged under the excess weight. It was Dumbledore's Pensieve. Minerva's gasp joined into the collective intake of air.

"I've been carryin' this through half the Forbidden Forres'," Hagrid groaned, making a failing effort to straighten his back.

Dumbledore regarded Hagrid with a solemn expression. "Did the centaurs give it to you?" he asked.

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Then it means it is ready. The memories have been sorted." Dumbledore's words caused some reaction in the three students.

"That's what the blonde Centaur said," Draco whispered.

"Firenze," Hermione explained.

"Have you entered the memories?" inquired Dumbledore.

All three nodded feebly.

"And what did you see?"

"Minister Fudge," Hermione said. "He was in all of the memories."

"That's the point of the sorting process," Dumbledore said as if it was obvious. "The magic seeks the hidden link between all the memories stored and arranges them to expose it."

"He works for Voldemort," Harry said, his voice hoarse from the lack of use. Minerva looked at him, more in shock that he chose to speak, than with the news.

"We have suspected as much," Dumbledore sighed.

"What are you going to do about it?" Draco demanded.

"Nothing." To their puzzled expressions, Dumbledore added, "Now that we are certain of it, we can use it to our advantage. If we flush him out, all we'll have is another of Voldemort's moles; someone we'll know nothing about. I prefer a snake out in the open to a snake in the grass."

"But he's commanding the entire ministry, including the Aurors!" Hermione exclaimed.

"He has not been doing that for a while now," Dumbledore smiled knowingly at Minerva. "But you're right," his features became serious once more. "We are training someone to replace Fudge, in case he's incapable of holding the title any longer."

The room was engulfed with thick silence while everybody computed the news. After a few minutes, Hermione turned to Dumbledore with a question, "Professor, if I may ask, how did all those memories wind up in your Pensieve? You didn't even witness most of them."

"Ah, but I did," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eyes. He sat in his chair, ready to launch into a long explanation.

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All of Remus' protests didn't help him. He, Sirius, Arabella and Mundungus had been admitted for further care. Lee was lucky enough to have sustained only minor injuries, and was released after Madam Pomfrey had him properly fixed with her medical spells and notorious hairy pills. He sat by Ron's bed Ginny in his lap. He moved his fingers on her cheeks from time to time, wiping off her tears.

The minute the nurse had left the room, Remus sat up in his bed. The action had actually eased his pain, as the mattress no longer pressed against his wounds. He lowered his feet to the cold floor, and watched Mundungus do the same. Sirius gave them a reassuring smile and a nod. He could not go with them. The risks were too high. It was agreed that he and Arabella would stay behind.

Lee darted off his chair, almost knocking Ginny down. "Where do you think you're going?" he demanded. "Madam Pomfrey said you should stay here at least for the night."

"Well, it's not exactly night-time, is it?" Remus smirked, pointing at the window. His victorious smile ebbed as he looked out and noticed that the example he gave wasn't a very good one. The sky outside was very dark, despite the fact that it was only early afternoon. Thick clouds hid any glimpse of blue from the eye and snow was falling heavily.

"Doesn't matter," he said to Lee while Mundungus took a position by his side. "We need to report the latest events to our operator in the Ministry, and this can't wait."

"You mean, this wasn't a spur-of-the-moment action?" Lee asked, astonished. "You do this often?"

Remus considered the proper reply. "We've been at it for the past year and a half," Sirius answered for him, and then added grimly, "In this round."

"And how to you take on assignments?" Lee took a step back, looking at Sirius. The young man seemed to have forgotten about his initial intention to stop the two patients from leaving.

"Usually, Dumbledore passes on the missions, but there's one man in the Ministry who organises -" Sirius stopped in mid-explanation. Remus could almost see a little light jumping to life over his head. His voice sounding pensive, he asked, "Are you currently employed?"

Lee shook his head in negation. "I had a good interview with the WWN, but -" he paused for a minute, his tone changing from conversational to extremely serious. "No, I'm available."

Remus turned to Mundungus, who was looking intently at him. "I think we'll need a third broomstick," he said, watching the shade of a smile pass on his comrade's lips.

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"Are you sure this is the right forum?" Minerva asked, familiar with the story Dumbledore was about to tell. "Shouldn't you be talking with Harry in private?"

"That's all right," Harry said. Curiosity seemed to have reignited the spark in his soul.

"Every wizard or witch can create a brand," Dumbledore began.

"Every powerful wizard or witch," corrected Minerva.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Yes, well -" He took a deep breath and continued. "If another wizard or witch is willing to accept that brand, than that person is forever connected to the branding wizard. A good example is Voldemort and his Death Eaters." Dumbledore ignored the wince shared by everyone but Harry. "The skull and snake brand he created connects him to each and every one of them. He can use it to call them and he can watch them through it. He can even control them from a distance. It is less powerful than the Imperious Curse, and only has a short-term effect, but it is efficient nonetheless."

"But how is that connected to the memories?" Hermione insisted.

Dumbledore heaved a great sigh. "Just like my darkest opponent, I have a brand as well. We created it during his first reign of terror, in order to protect everyone who would not follow him." He scanned the kids to see what impression it left on them. They all sat wide-eyed, giving him their undivided attention. "A small group of fierce opponents of Voldemort had been branded by me on New-year's eve of 1980."

"Aurors?" Hagrid asked. He never heard the complete story, only fragments of rumours that ran around for years.

"Not exactly," answered Dumbledore. "There were eight wizards and witches there that night. Two of them were Harry's parents."

Harry paled significantly. Once again, Minerva's lips turned into white stripes as she saw Draco putting a supportive hand on Harry's upper arm. "So, my parents carried your mark?" Harry choked.

"That was the initial idea." Dumbledore allowed Harry's shock to ease a little before he went on. "Your father did. But when I placed the spell on your mother, something extraordinary happened."

Hermione seemed to be counting on her fingers. "She was pregnant!" she cried.

"Indeed," Dumbledore confirmed. "It wasn't expected. If we had anticipated that, the spell would have never been cast. By all means, it should have killed the baby."

"But it didn't," Hermione said, thinking two steps ahead. "Instead, the baby, Harry, was branded as well. That's how you could see what he saw on all those occasions."

"Correct in all but one," Dumbledore offered her a smile. "You're a very smart young witch. Harry had been branded, but it was instead of his mother. She had never been marked. We would not take the risk after that first accident."

"Who are the other six who were there that night?" Draco asked.

At that point, Hagrid pulled out a handkerchief as large as a tablecloth and blew his nose into it.

"You wouldn't know them," Dumbledore replied with a sad quiver in his voice. "They were all tracked down and killed. The mark that should have helped protect them was the mark of their death."

"Is that why Voldemort wanted me dead but didn't care about my mother?" Harry asked.

"I'm afraid so."

Harry flopped back to the same position he was in when Minerva first stepped into the room. Her heart sagged with him. The talk about his dead parents after he had just watched his best friend jump into the killing curse could not have been easy.

"I'll take the kids ter the infirmary," Hagrid suggested, obviously moved by Harry's condition.

"Not just yet," Dumbledore said. "I need them here for just a while longer."

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Sirius watched his two veteran combat partners leave with their new acquisition. Ginny went with them to see them off the Castle grounds. The instant they were out of view, Sirius sat up, ready to leave as well. As his luck had it, Madam Pomfrey chose that exact moment to step into the room. She pushed Sirius back, giving the empty beds around her a sore look.

"Let me out of this bed. I must go see Harry!" Sirius was ready to begin seriously yelling at Madam Pomfrey.

"You are not moving a single limb out of this bed!" Madam Pomfrey answered with matching anger. "You are in no condition to go. This is your second serious injury in two days."

"Third," sighed Arabella, counting in the curse a guard had put on his legs. Sirius had blamed Snape for that injury.

"Harry is my godson. I should be there when he needs me, and he never needed me before as much as he does now." Sirius's eyes lost their focus. "He did need me once, actually, but I wasn't there for him. I'm going right now."

"Has everybody gone mad?" Madam Pomfrey screeched. "Four of my patient are on the loose. This has never happened to me before." She turned to Arabella, waving her hands excessively to demonstrate her desperation. "You're the brains in this relationship. Talk some sense into him."

"I am, aren't I?" Arabella said with half a smile. She took Madam Pomfrey's hand and gave the man beside her a severe look. "Sirius," she said, tightening her grip on the nurse's hand. "Make a run for it!"

Sirius looked at her, shocked, but didn't need to be told twice. Making the bedcovers fly off of him, he jumped lightly to the floor. He grabbed his cloak and wrapped it around him as he fled from the room, blowing a kiss to Arabella as he ran.

Arabella shrivelled under the nurse's glare. For a full minute, they just stared at each other. Then, without saying a word, they both dashed out of the infirmary, trying to guess Sirius' general direction.

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All through the long explanation she and Draco had provided, Hermione kept sneaking quick looks at Harry. She wanted to hold him so badly that it pained her not to. But she held back. The last thing he needed was to be given the wrong impression of their relationship. They were friends. Good friends, but nothing beyond that. She loved Harry, but she was in love with Draco.

Draco. Hermione felt a strong pinch in her heart when she looked at him. All she could see was his blonde head hovering over that Saitaina witch in a hot kiss. Hermione thought those kisses were reserved for her. The scene replayed in her mind every time she looked at him, a thing she desperately tried to avoid.

After Professor Dumbledore was satisfied with their story, they just sat there, none of them feeling like having a casual talk. Hermione was almost relieved when the door opened, until she saw who was there. Mr and Mrs Weasley, Bill, George and Fred. They were followed by Professor Snape, whose beetle black eyes seemed darker than ever.

Hermione dreaded the meeting with them. What could she tell them? "Your son chose to become a Death Eater"? That's not something she wanted to tell parents over their boy's possible deathbed. She and Draco had smoothly avoided the topic so far, but seeing the Weasleys, Hermione knew they wouldn't be able to keep at it much longer.

"Charlie and Percy will be here later," Mr Weasley explained while his wife ran to Harry, hugging him like the mother he never knew.

"I'm so sorry," she said, pushing Harry to lean against her.

"What?" Harry croaked. He broke the connection and looked at her, confused. "He's in this condition because of me," he whispered.

"We know he saved your life and that he may pay dearly for it," Mr Weasley said. "We're very proud of him."

Harry bit through his lip. He allowed himself to be swept again into Mrs Weasley's arms. The rapid motion made Snape's unbuttoned cloak fall from his shoulders again.

George bent over him to pick it up, using the opportunity to punch Draco in the back.

"Watch it, Weasley," Draco snapped, getting out of his chair.

"No, you watch it, Malfoy," George shot back. He stood up, the cloak hanging loose on his arm. "I'd love to know what your part in this mess was."

In an instant, Fred was flanked by his twin, his wand pointing at Draco.

Hermione watched with alarm as Draco reached into his robes, undoubtedly in search of his wand. This wasn't an easy task, considering the condition of his clothes. They were completely torn, and she knew from her experience that some of the raw curses made their pockets shift to unexpected places.

"That is enough," Dumbledore thundered. He was ignored by everyone but the image of the sleepy past headmaster, who woke up with a start.

Hermione stepped between Draco and the twins, facing the two red-haired and red-faced boys. "You want to know what his part was?" She nearly shouted. "He's the one who carried Ron out." Fred and George gaped at her, lowering their wands. "He saved our lives more than once," Hermione continued. "And I know for sure that he wasn't the one who turned us in."

"Than who was it?" asked Bill. He had been following the interaction with interest, and just like any Weasley, had little love for anything Malfoy.

Hermione opened her mouth and then closed it, doing a very good imitation of a fish. She couldn't believe she set that trap for herself.

"We don't know," Draco said. He moved out from behind her and stood by her side. His wand was in his hand, put it wasn't in a duelling position.

Hermione gave him a long, appraising look. It was the first time she could do it since their return. She was glad that he was the one who made the decision to keep Ron's betrayal as a secret. After all, Ron had proved himself worthy of a second chance. She just hoped that Harry was conscious enough to follow suit.

"Well, someone must have got you captured," Fred sneered. "If it wasn't you, then who? Harry? Hermione? That's absurd"

He doesn't even consider mentioning Ron, Hermione thought. Good thing that he hadn't. She was sure that if he had, her blush would have revealed their secret.

"There are other ways Voldemort could have known where to find them," Dumbledore said. This time he was heard well, if only because of the chills everyone felt at the sound of the Dark Lord's name.

He was referring to the Dark Mark, of course. Hermione now knew why he never asked about this all through their long talk. He just assumed that they had been followed through Harry's or Draco's brand. That was an excellent idea, she had to admit it.

Holding his head high, Draco pulled the cloak from George's hand and tried to wrap it around Harry. Harry objected, wriggling out of Mrs Weasley's hug. He looked like he hasn't entirely awakened from a bad dream. His tousled hair was messier than ever, and his face bore no expression. Not even an expressionless expression. Taking the cloak from Draco, he held it out to Snape.

"Here, Professor," he said. "I don't need it any more. Thank you."

Snape's left arm twitched as if he had tried to lift it and had failed. He grabbed it, his face twisted with pain.

Draco moved closer to Hermione. He bent over her ear and whispered, "Thank you."

She could feel his breath against her skin. The very visible shiver that passed through her made her very angry with herself. Draco moved slightly lower, his lips brushing the back of her neck.

"What is it, Severus?" Dumbledore asked.

With all eyes on the Potions master, no one paid any heed to Draco's deeds.

"Get away from me!" Hermione hissed, forcing herself to tear away from him. Her body screamed in protest, but she ignored it. "Just because I didn't want them to kill you doesn't mean I forgive you." She moved into the group of people, where she was out of Draco's reach.

"Are you being called again?" Professor McGonagall asked Snape.

"It's nothing," Snape answered after a few long seconds. He looked at Harry, who was still holding out the cloak. "Keep it," he said, regarding the boy's shivering bare figure. "You obviously need it more than I."

Hermione watched Mrs Weasley fix the cloak around Harry's shoulders and wondered how the woman managed that. She had tried to do the same earlier, but had found the cloak simply too small. Probably having so many children who lived on hand-me-downs provided her with some practice.

"Now, Hagrid, you can escort them to the hospital wing," Dumbledore said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lee propped his broom against the wall, following Mundungus' example. Remus did the same, and then stepped in front of the other two men. Lee tried to follow him, but Mundungus held him back.

"What are we doing here?" he asked. Of all the strange places he'd seen in the last few days, this must have been the strangest. They had flown over the Forbidden Forrest, and then took a dive right into one of the trees. Closing his eyes, Lee had prepared himself for the impact that had never come. Instead, they had passed right through the forest ground and had kept going for at least a mile. Finally, they had reached this place - a concrete cube, large enough for the three men and not much more.

Looking up, Lee could not see any tunnel or passageway from which they could have travelled. There was just a grey ceiling. Two plain-looking torches kept only enough light not to call the place dark. Lee was increasingly concerned that they would run out of air.

"This is a passageway," Mundungus answered. "A safety lock. Only authorised people can go through. The rest, if they manage to get here, remain stuck."

"Am I authorised?" Lee asked, feeling the beginnings of claustrophobia. He watched Remus move his wand in front of one of the walls.

One corner of Mundungus' mouth twitched up. "You're with us," he said. "Don't worry."

The wall in front of Remus turned red, as if it was extremely hot. Instinctively, Lee took a step back, but again, Mundungus urged him in the opposite direction. Remus walked straight into the wall and disappeared. The other two followed suit.

"I only have a few minutes," said someone on the other side.

Lee thought he recognised the voice, but found his identification hard to believe. The image of the room they had entered cleared very slowly. Red clouds in his eyes coloured everything around him. The large room with its desk and chairs seemed pink; the bookshelves were purple and the ancient weapons on the walls took a strong copper tint. Slowly, everything changed to a normal colour, except for the room's owner, who remained quite red. Lee gaped at him.

Percy regarded Lee with caution, and then turned to Remus. "So, you've decided to make him a resident part of the team," he determined.

"He was a great help in the last mission," Remus said proudly, placing a hand on Lee's shoulder.

"At least he had his hair cut," Percy smiled. This was the first time Lee had seen him smile. He seemed like a different man - confident, easy-going. A born leader. "Have you explained the setting to him?"

"We haven't had the chance yet."

"All right," Percy said. "I'll give you the short version. Your team can fill in the blanks later on." He took a deep breath, as if what he was about to say was difficult for him. "There are very few people in the ministry we can trust. Others are either supporters of You-Know-Who or suspected as ones. Those people don't trust my father, or any other member of my family. Therefore, they don't know I'm a Weasley."

"How can that be?" Lee interrupted, looking at Percy's hair.

Percy smiled again, almost laughing. "Red hair is not exclusive in our family. But to make sure, there is a Disillusionment Charm around me."

"Like a Hippogriff?" Lee asked in astonishment.

"Exactly like a Hippogriff," Percy confirmed. "Only instead of acting on muggles, it acts on Ministry Officials. With the exclusion of my father, of course." Lee nodded, and Percy went on. "This way, I'm accepted into the highest circles in the ministry, and I'm also able to use the Ministry's endless resources to help our fight." He allowed a few seconds to pass by, and then said, "All right, so now you know everything, and Fudge will be here in ten minutes, which means you'll be out in nine. Debrief me."

Lee found it amazing that Remus was able to squeeze the events of the past two days into the time frame, but as much as he concentrated, he couldn't think of a single detail that was missed. Percy kept an even expression all through Remus' monologue, including the part where he described Ron's injury. Lee assumed that Percy had prior knowledge of that.

When they were done, the wall through which they came opened up again, leading them back into the concrete box where they had left their brooms. Lee took his Nimbus in his hand, but did not mount it. Instead, he leaned against the rough grey wall and breathed heavily.

"A lot to take in, isn't it?" Remus said sympathetically.

"It's not that," Lee answered. "It's just that I never thought I'd find Percy nice. That's a bit of a shock." He laughed nervously, and then remembered another detail. "If he's my boss," he thought out loud, "Then I'm dating my boss's sister."

The two other men burst out laughing. "Come on," Mundungus said, "We'll show you the layer we call home." He flew right through the solid ceiling, and Lee, who had no other visible choice, did the same.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Horrible screams came from the grounds right outside the headmaster's office. They tore Severus away from his tortured daydream. Earlier, he had felt something. He hadn't been surprised by Dumbledore's question. He, too, thought he was being called. But it had gone just as it had appeared, unlike the Dark Lord's call, which doesn't go away until it is answered.

The Headmaster turned to stare out the window. He was immediately joined by Mr Weasley and the three present Hogwarts professors.

"Magnificent," rumbled Hagrid over the racket from outside.

"This is Voldemort's snake," Dumbledore said quietly. "It may be the beginning of their grand attack."

McGonagall squared her shoulders. "We have been preparing for this," she said, pulling her wand out.

"No!" cried Harry, jumping out of his chair. Every eye in the room turned to him. "I forgot all about it. I -" he stumbled on his own words. "I told it that it could come with me."

"It's attacking the children!" McGonagall exclaimed, raising her wand again.

"No, it's not. It's just chasing them away," snarled Severus.

"The poor snake's harmless," Hagrid interjected.

"What do you mean, exactly?" asked Dumbledore, looking directly at Harry.

"It was in the middle of a conversation," Harry tried to explain. "We talked about ducks and I mentioned there are some here -"

"You're not making much sense," Hermione said, shaking her head.

"Nagini spared his life," Draco took on the discussion. "In return, Harry promised her that she could come here and eat all the ducks she wants."

"Nagini?" asked Mrs Weasley.

"That's her name," Draco said, as if it was obvious.

"That makes sense," Dumbledore hummed. "If she really left her former master, then she's welcome to stay here."

"Where?" shrieked McGonagall.

"Fang and I can use a female friend," Hagrid beamed.

"Then for god's sake, go tell her that!" said McGonagall. "And make her stop chasing the kids. Tell her it is absolutely forbidden to scare any of our students!"

Harry looked at her for a second longer and than ran out of the room, followed by Draco and Hagrid. In his rush, he almost knocked down Sirius who came running from the opposite direction. The giant strides of the gamekeeper allowed him to walk after the sprinting boys without falling behind.

"Where are they off to?" Sirius asked, standing in the doorway, looking confused and a somewhat sick.

"Oh, just going to talk a giant snake off the grounds," Severus answered. "What are you doing here?"

Sirius' face turned almost grey. "I came to help Harry, actually," he said.

"Oh, goody!" Severus exclaimed and then moved forward to catch Sirius, as he collapsed. With the headmaster's help, he lowered the exhausted man to one of the chairs and let him rest there, the colour slowly returning to his face.

Severus walked back to the window just in time to see the three reach the snake. Hagrid tried to pet it while Harry and Draco were busy catching their breath. The large serpent seemed reluctant at first, but after what Severus could only assume was a short talk with Harry, it began twitching and rolling in the snow like a huge flobberworm with a stomachache. When it finally relaxed, the snake followed Hagrid in the direction of his hut.

Severus shook his head as he turned away from the window. As if that was what the half-giant needed. Another monster. With all his heart he hoped that it'd turn out that what the last Blast Ended Skrewt favoured for food was large snakes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What do you see, My Lord?" Lucius kept his tone even, very careful not to enrage his master. The Dark Lord had seen all of his plans fall apart as if he were the loser in a game of Exploding Snap. They looked intently into a silver-framed grate in one of their smaller shelters.

"Use your eyes, Malfoy!" Voldemort rasped. "I see absolutely nothing. The traitor must be surrounded by wards."

"Yes My Lord," Lucius said hurriedly. "I am deeply disappointed. I was hoping to get revenge on Snape, the cheating, disloyal -"

"You're no better than he," Voldemort cut him short.

"But Master, I am your loyal servant!" the pale man protested.

"You have denounced me for thirteen years," Voldemort hissed, turning his back to him. He waved his long, skeletal fingers in front of the fire, and it roared, green flames rising from it. "Let us see what our young friend is up to," he said, as the image changed to reveal Harry Potter, sitting on a hospital bed.

The image expanded to include the entire wing. There was only one more boy there - Draco.

"Perfect." Voldemort rubbed his hands. He reached into his robe and pulled out his wand.

"Master!" Lucius almost cried. "My boy is there, too. Please, spare his life."

"No," the Dark Lord said sturdily. "He has turned against me as well. He is getting exactly what he deserves."

"We should wait until Potter is alone, My Lord," Lucius implored.

"Do you dare defy me?" Voldemort thundered. His voice was like the din of a thousand snakes. He pointed his wand at the man beside him.

"I'm sorry, My Lord," Lucius grovelled. "I made a mistake. Now is the right time. Of course." Lucius closed his eyes. He heard his master mumble a spell, knowing that it was aimed into the flames, but he couldn't bear to look.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco paced the infirmary floor, bumping into every bed that dared stand in his way. He knew he should be thankful for being alive, but between Hermione not talking to him, his father stunning him and Harry losing it, he did not consider it a very good day.

As much as he tried, Draco could not bring himself to worry about Ron. He never liked the hot-tempered, redheaded boy. He did feel sorry for his friends. Harry stood over his bed, watching over him like a guardian angel. Draco doubted that it would help the sickly boy any. A very thin line stood between Ron and death. At least Harry seemed to find some consolation in standing there.

Or not. Draco watched Harry with horror as he dropped to his knees, wrapping himself completely in Snape's cloak. Draco moved his fingers through his hair. He could think of nothing to say to a boy who was about to lose the closest person to him, for the second time in his life. Harry fidgeted under the cloak, his body as restless as his mind.

A shining piece of polished wood appeared in Harry's hand. He had held out his wand, pointing it to himself. The first sparks of a powerful spell began to form on its tip.

Draco crossed the room with a speed of a flash slicing through clouds. "Don't do it!" he shouted.

A silver mist appeared from the tip of Harry's wand, surrounding him for a second, and then dissolving into the air. Draco tried to extricate the wand out of Harry's hand, which proved to be a very easy task. It fell clattering to the stone floor and rolled away from the boys.

Harry fell to his back on the floor by Ron's bed, his body subdued. He was completely covered by Snape's cloak, his wand hand disappearing under it as well.

"What do you think you're doing?" Draco yelled. He wanted to look into Harry's eyes. With a crude pull he tried to remove the cloak from his face, but although he was being rough on purpose, the black cloth wouldn't move. He tried again, and then realised what he'd done.

That black thing was no cloak. It was a camouflaged Lethifold. And Harry wasn't trying to kill himself, he was trying to save his own life. Draco could kick himself. They had learned about this beast in the previous year, and they had even learned the theory of the spell to banish it. Draco remembered the words of the spell, "Expecto Patronum." The problem was that the only undergraduate wizard to ever master that spell was unable to use it, mainly because he had just been disarmed. Draco bit his lip in frustration.

Taking a deep breath, Draco relaxed, hoping against hope that his first practical use of the spell would prove effective. He aimed his wand at the slowly moving dark shade and its victim. Concentrating, he muttered the spell.

Something silver and beautiful blossomed at the tip of his wand. Within a second it grew to a heart-stopping awe-striking dragon. Its arrow-shaped tail was the last to be formed. It immediately charged at the Lethifold, making it release its victim and fight for its life, before it fled, sliding under the closed infirmary door.

Draco watched the silver dragon disappear and then, holding his breath, he rushed to Harry. To his great relief, Harry was alive. It was bluntly obvious by the way the dark-haired boy took large gulps of air into his lungs.

"Harry, you all right?" Draco said softly, sticking out his hand to help him back to a sitting position.

Harry nodded. "Was that your Patronus?" he asked.

It was Draco's turn to nod. "Why didn't yours work?" he asked.

"I couldn't get a happy memory," Harry said sadly, looking at Ron. "All the ones I used before seem meaningless now." He turned to Draco. "What was your happy memory?"

Draco stared at his feet. "You," he said. "As my friend." He was extremely embarrassed, but happy to have said that.

"Thank you," Harry said, touching Draco's arm lightly. His voice was barely audible, but the message it carried was loud and clear.

[A/N: Making Draco's Patronus a dragon was originally Cassandra Claire's idea, which she used in her amazing "Draco Sinister". I happen to completely agree with her choice, although, not with her reasoning.]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Charlie followed the rest of his family into the Hogwarts hospital wing. Only Percy was missing to complete the parading Weasley set. And Ron, of course. For some reason, Snape was the Professor assigned to walk with them around the school. Charlie could not see why Dumbledore would choose a Slytherin for the job, but the headmaster had his reasons.

Charlie watched his kid sister peek hesitantly into the room. She probably wanted to make sure Madam Pomfrey wasn't there. Obviously, she wasn't, or they'd have already heard her angry screams. A good thing, too, because there was no one to treat her for the heart attack she'd undoubtedly have had upon seeing so many people in the hospital.

Ginny was just losing the flush she had on when she first joined them. She explained about seeing Lee off with his new partners, and Charlie wondered if her cheeks were red because of the dusk coldness outside or for another reason. He'd heard that Ginny had started dating the third member of the notorious triangle, but this was the first he'd seen her since then. She seemed happy about it, ignoring her tear-red eyes, that is.

Another rumour Charlie had heard, but had a hard time believing, was the one about Draco Malfoy; the son of a notorious Death Eater who had become Harry Potter's friend. At least what they said about Malfoy and Hermione didn't seem true. The girl, who entered the infirmary with them, regarded him as cautiously and grudgingly as ever. The ginger cat in her hands looked at the boy with evident hostility.

"So, I've heard you got rid of a huge snake just now," Charlie said, trying to talk to Harry about anything but Ron.

"I didn't get rid of it, just got it relocated," Harry refused to take credit.

"You'd better teach Hagrid some Parseltongue," laughed Mr Weasley.

"I tried," Harry sighed. "He got the spitting part, but he couldn't form comprehensible words. Nagini almost had a fit, she was laughing so hard."

"Still, it was chasing a bunch of Hufflepuffs on the grounds, wasn't it?" Charlie insisted.

"Not chasing," Harry muttered. "It was just trying to ask them for directions to the kitchen. It was hungry after a long crawl. Not its fault that they misunderstood."

"But it is the most dangerous creature that has entered the school in a while," said Mrs Weasley.

"You've heard the boy," Snape snarled. "There was nothing dangerous about the creature. He did not save the world. He just showed a lost snake the way out."

Snape's sarcasm was lost on Harry. "The Lethifold was much worse," he added.

"What Lethifold?" gasped Mrs Weasley.

"Snape's cloak turned out to be a Lethifold," Harry said simply. "It almost had me, but Draco conjured a Patronus and chased it away. It took the shape of a Dragon," he added, looking directly at Charlie.

"Really?" Charlie asked with interest. "Which breed?" He moved closer to Draco to allow Snape a free passage.

"I think it was a Common Welsh Green," Draco said. "But I can't be sure. It didn't exactly have its normal colour." The door slammed behind Snape's back.

Charlie and Draco delved into a long discussion about the shapes of the wings different Dragons have. Charlie was careful not to enclose too many details about his work, just in case the intelligent boy he discovered turned out to be with the dark side after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sirius was the first to step out of the gargoyle-guarded door. He didn't have a problem with the fact that Madam Pomfrey had to stay back for him. She'd been taking care of him since he was just a schoolboy. He was incredibly humiliated that Arabella and Hermione waited for him as well. He thought about needing to prove to them that he could take care of himself, as he tripped on the gargoyle's foot and nearly fell.

"Are you all right?" Arabella rushed to him. Sirius could see that she was holding back her laughter.

"Perfectly fine," he grumbled. "I don't see what's so funny."

At the sound of these words, Arabella could no longer keep her laughter under control. Madam Pomfrey joined her with short chortles, while Hermione stared at the three of them, looking bemused.

Ignoring the girls, Sirius strode animatedly forward, taking a turn towards the school infirmary. What he saw beyond the corner made him stand on the spot. In his wickedest dreams he never imagined he's see Severus Snape so humiliated.

Snape was on all fours, regarding a black cloak that was tossed a few feet away from him. With a battle cry worthy of a jungle tiger he stormed the tattered piece of clothing. Hugging it tight in an excellent impression of a man fighting a crocodile, Snape shook the cloak vigorously, grunting with effort.

Sirius was enjoying the show so much that he didn't even notice the three women behind him. He wanted Snape to see him, but not just yet. First, he wanted to see what he was going to do next.

"What is going on?" Arabella asked urgently.

"Shhh..." Sirius hushed her. "Don't disturb him."

Snape, however, picked up the conversation. He leaped to his feet, the cloak in his hand. Moving his finger through his greasy hair to fix it up a little, he stared at the group, looking abashed.

"Everything all right?" Madam Pomfrey asked, taking a step closer to the Potions Professor.

"It's a Lethifold," Snape spat, shaking the cloak in front of him.

"It's your cloak," Sirius snorted. "The one you gave Harry. If you wanted it back, you could have said so."

"It was given to me by You-Know-Who, and it is a dormant Lethifold, and it just tried to eat your precious godson." Snape looked smug, as the colour was lost from Sirius's face.

"Where is he?" Sirius asked through gritted teeth. He wanted to use his fist on that jeering smile.

"Oh, don't worry," Snape said slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. "He's fine. He's in the infirmary. Now, if you'll excuse me," he added, hanging the cloak on the tip on his wand, "I have a Lethifold to incinerate."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The door opened again. Charlie turned to it lazily, sure that it was Snape who had returned. He was surprised to see Dumbledore, leading Minister Fudge. They were accompanied by none other than his pompous brother, Percy, who seemed even more conceited than ever.

"Terrible, terrible," the minister said grimly, offering his hand to Mr Weasley and then to other members of the family. Charlie moved out of his way. He had heard the recent news about Fudge and had a hard time keeping a straight face from up close. Fudge tried to reach him, but gave up when Charlie turned his back to him, pretending to be interested in Harry.

"My dear boy," Fudge turned to Harry as well. "I hear you were very lucky to escape a group of lunatic followers of You-Know-Who again." He walked up to him as he said that, Percy following him all over the room, shaking the hands of his parents and siblings as if he were a mere stranger.

Fudge turned to Dumbledore, fake concern in his eyes. "Why doesn't he have a robe?" he asked.

"I'm not wearing robes," Harry grumbled, "because Voldemort tore them off me." He seemed to enjoy seeing Fudge wince at the sound of the name.

"You're delirious, boy," Fudge laughed dryly. "You-Know-Who is dead. Think. What would he want with your robes?"

Madam Pomfrey ushered Hermione, Sirius and Arabella into the infirmary, and then stood stock still in the doorway, stunned at the number of people who congested it. Charlie held his breath as Sirius changed into a dog a split second before Fudge turned to them.

The minister regarded the nurse with evident displeasure. "The boy needs some mind clearing Potion and a good sleep," he said in a commanding voice. "Are you going to take care of him?"

Madam Pomfrey shook with anger. "Out! Everybody out!" She shouted, but got no response. "Anyone who's not injured, get out of the room!" she tried again, to no avail. She looked at Fudge's demanding expression, raised her hands up in the air and then let them drop again to the sides of her body, indicating that there was nothing she could do.

"All right," Fudge said in an authoritative tone that surprised everyone. As the Minister of Magic, he should have possessed such a voice, but they thought that similarly to other ministerial qualities, he lacked that virtue as well.

"Harry, Draco, Hermione, Miss Figg," again, he surprised everyone by actually knowing their names. "You are allowed to stay here. Everybody else - out. He watched over the people marching out in a single file and grumbled as Sirius sat by Harry's bed.

"The dog stays here," Harry said before Fudge had a chance to protest.

"All right," Fudge decided not to argue. He pushed Percy out of the door. "Come, Weatherby, you still have a lot to learn if you want to be able to take my place one day."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Harry, I want you to drink this and get into bed," Madam Pomfrey urged him.

"Just a while longer," Harry objected. He didn't know how long he had stood by Ron's bed. Everything outside had turned black a while before, but Harry did not want to move. This was the first time he had been left almost by himself since the fatal events of that morning, and he wanted to be alone, to think. He had a feeling that Sirius and Draco were doing everything in their power to keep him from it.

"Harry, Come on," Sirius broke his train of thoughts. He nudged his cheek, trying to make Harry shift his eyes from Ron."

The light of the torches danced on Ron's face. By their reddish light, Harry could almost pretend that Ron looked less pale than before. There was no physical hint to the curse he sustained. His skin was clearer than that of anyone else in the room. His eyes were closed, and his induced breathing regular, but it was painfully clear that he wasn't just sleeping. Something was badly amiss. The little twitches and eyes movement of a boy who's having a dream. There was none of that. Or wasn't there?

"I think he moved!" Harry cried. This brought everyone in the room to him.

"I'm afraid that cannot be," Madam Pomfrey said gravely.

"I'm telling you, he had a tic in his nose."

"His nose is so long," Draco jeered, "that maybe the news of his condition has't reached it yet."

Harry fought the strong urge to punch Draco. Why am I fighting this, he thought, and jabbed his elbow hard into the smirking boy's ribs.

Draco's protest died in his throat when Ron turned his head to the side.

"Amazing," mumbled Madam Pomfrey, moving her wand a few inched above the thrashing boy. "Everybody, give him some air."

The group moved a few feet back, but Harry insisted on them going to the other side of the infirmary. He wanted the nurse to have the best conditions to do her job. He, Sirius, Hermione and Draco sat on one of the beds, while Arabella went to fetch the Weasleys.

After several long minutes, Madam Pomfrey beckoned them closer.

Ron still looked so pale that his freckles where white, but his eyes were open and seemed focused. He looked at Harry, and for some reason, smiled.

"Can he talk?" Harry asked.

"Why don't you ask him?" Madam Pomfrey answered with a smile.

Harry didn't need to ask him though. Before he did, Ron opened his mouth and said, "It worked." His voice was weaker than a newborn flobberworm, but his smile was unwavering.

"Yes, it did," Sirius said softly. "You saved Harry's life."

"I'm sorry," Ron croaked.

"For saving his life?" Draco teased. "Yeah, we're sorry too."

"No, for -" Ron began, but Draco cut him off.

"Blowing your cover? Well, you didn't have much of a choice, did you?"

Ron's eyes widened. "My cover?" he asked.

"What happened?" Draco said. "The curse ate your brain? Can't you remember you were posing as a Death Eater, to help us get Hermione out?" He reached fro Hermione with his hand, but she moved away from his touch.

"I wasn't posing," Ron said gravely.

"We all saw you," Harry said. He was sorry he couldn't kick Ron. He really wanted to. "You planned this with Draco from the day we left Hogwarts. Voldemort believed you. You were even wearing his clothes."

Ron recovered slowly from the shiver at the sound of the name. He opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione forestalled it. "I think he's tired," she told Madam Pomfrey. "I think he needs to rest."

The nurse jumped at the opportunity to fill her duty. "That's right," she said. "Everybody, back to bed." She patted Ron's head. "I'll get you a sleeping potion in a minute. I -" She paused, somewhat embarrassed. "I didn't think you'd need one tonight."

"He can have mine," Harry said. He looked at Sirius and Draco. The thought of the two smothering him for one more second was too much for him. They did make him feel better, but they also embarrassed him to no end. "I'm so tired, I think I'll go to sleep right now." he pecked Hermione on the cheek, ignored Draco's choked sound and went into bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione woke up in the middle of the night. Sudden coldness on her legs told her that Crookshanks had been there and had just left. That was probably the reason she woke. Although everyone there was fast asleep, the breathing sounds of seven sleeping people and one girl awake filled the small room with a noise that resembled the wind on the high of the mountains.

She got up and went to Harry's bed. Throughout the entire afternoon, he had been surrounded by too many people and when they had finally left, Sirius and Draco guarded him more ardently than a squad of Aurors. The last thing she wanted was to be near Draco, who kept shooting inviting glances to her. Or was it despite those luring looks? It was unbelievable to her that only that morning they had all been faced with mortal danger. The weight of the last few days swarmed over her, causing her knees to buckle.

Strong arms caught her before she hit the floor. "Draco," she croaked. Her heart twittered and Hermione made her best to hush it. "I didn't know you were up." With a great effort she tore herself from him. "Don't touch me." She turned her gaze back to Harry.

"You love him, don't you?" Draco asked. He couldn't disguise the bitterness in his voice.

"Yes, I do." Hermione knew she was being horribly cruel, but she couldn't help herself. She wanted to hurt him. Her love for Harry, however strong, was not what Draco had meant.

"I hope the two of you will be happy together," Draco said, the words sounded like the incantation of a curse.

"That's it? No sarcastic remarks about how much we deserve each other, or something similar?"

"No. Actually, I don't think he deserves you." Draco sounded almost choked. "You're too smart and beautiful and witty and amiable and unbelievably attractive for someone who only wants you because you're brave." He took a quick breath and went on. "And you are. A brave Gryffindor," he laughed bitterly. "But you're so much more. You'd have been the star in any house you'd have been sorted to."

"Yes," Hermione gave him a lopsided smile. "I'd be great in Slytherin. They just love Muggle-borns there."

"That's because they're - we're - a bunch of fools who don't recognise a good thing if it sits on us and sings the national anthem. But I promise you - in those rare moments when we do realise we've been wrong -" he took another breath, eager to go on before he lost her attention. "It hits us like a thunderbolt and doesn't let go." He took her hand and placed it over his heart. "Please, Hermione," his voice quivered, "I beg you to reconsider."

A single tear ran down Hermione's cheek. She turned her head aside. Her eyes fell on Viktor and Cho. They had wandered into the infirmary late at night, and after having been severely scolded by Madam Pomfrey, declared their death-defying love for each other. The nerve-wracked nurse had obviously tried to toss the relatively healthy Viktor out of the hospital, but Cho had insisted that she trusted no one more than she trusted him, and she needed him by her side. Hermione knew she could never be with someone she didn't trust.

"Why did you kiss that brunette, then?" she asked.

"I tried to tell you, but you wouldn't listen. There was some spell in her hair -"

"So she put a spell on you. Is that it?" Hermione cut him off, pulling her hand back.

"No." Draco shook his head furiously. "But she tried. And she kissed me. I pushed her away, but she tried it again. Her hair blunted my reaction, and that's when you came in. I didn't kiss her back. I was just dazed."

Hermione stood in front of him, her lips tight and her eyes regarding him intently.

"You have to believe me!" Draco looked at her as if suddenly remembering something. "Do you still have that veritaserum?" He was by the side of her bed in two strides, heaving her pack from the floor and toppling its contents over the unmade blanket.

Hermione took the bag from his hands and began to collect her things, throwing them inside in no particular order. "That won't be necessary," she said softly. "I believe you." She placed a hand on his shoulder, urging him to straighten up.

Draco didn't need much encouragement to do the only thing he could think of in the last two days. He swept her into his arms, pressing her as close to him as he could without crushing her ribs. After standing like that for a long minute, he released her ever so slightly, allowing them just the necessary space for a long, passionate kiss. That kiss was followed by others, shorter and more urgent. He slowly began to make his was down towards her neck and her shoulders.

Hermione shivered under his soft, cold lips. She felt her knees go weak again, but this time Draco didn't catch her. He directed her fall to the bed and spread out beside her, his right arm trapped under her body and his left guiding her head towards another kiss.

Hermione could not understand how such cold lips were able to make her feel so warm. Only one day without him made her miss him so much. She put everything she felt into those kisses, and when he moved to her neck, she felt desperately lost. She didn't protest, though. His gentle touch made her think that she couldn't speak even if she really wanted to.

It was a regrettable fact that they were in a magical infirmary. Moving her hand on Draco's back, Hermione thought that it would have been much nicer if they were wearing muggle hospital-robes. The type that's open on the back. She could feel Draco's muscles moving under the thin cloth, but that only made her want to curse it off him even more.

With a smile, she remembered she could actually do it. Her wand was on her nightstand. She stretched and almost reached it, when Draco suddenly stopped nuzzling her neck. His hand froze on her hip. That only made Hermione even more aware of his previous caresses. She shivered again, gasping for air.

"Did you hear something?" he whispered.

"No," Hermione whispered back, surprised that she could use her voice. She pulled Draco back to her, leaving the wand out of it for a while.

"Psss... psss..." This time they both caught the quiet rustle. A crack of light appeared in the door, and that voice was heard again, louder this time.

Draco's body tensed. With a very slow motion he pulled out his wand. He held it close to the bed, making sure it wasn't attracting the light. The door opened wider, and a boy slid in.

"Relax, Draco," Hermione whispered. "It's just Neville. Probably looking for his toad again. The poor boy," she chuckled. "He never knows where that toad is. Been the same since the day I met him."

"Don't you think he should have grown up by now?" Draco grunted.

"Maybe. But that's part of his charm." She followed Neville with her eyes as he searched around the room, checking every corner, looking under each of the beds. Unaware that he was being watched, Neville bent under Hermione's bed, pulling away the covers that blocked his view. Hermione pulled back.

The mild-mannered boy jumped two feet in the air with a squeak, landing on his rear end at some distance. "Hermione!" he exclaimed. Then, his eyes fell on the blonde head beside her. "And - Malfoy?" he spluttered. He jumped to his feet and rushed to grab the lying boy by his collar. "Let her go!"

"Got off, Longbottom," Draco drawled. "As a matter of fact, get out of the room." He pushed Neville off of him.

"What are you doing to Hermione?" Neville yelled, his face getting very red. "Hasn't she been through enough? You have no right to be here!"

"No, Longbottom," Draco said, swinging his legs out of the bed and sitting up. "I am a patient here. You're the one who's out of place."

"Neville, that's all right," Hermione said quickly, before the fight could develop any further. "Draco's not doing anything to me. He's my friend." Neville almost choked, and began to cough, desperately seeking air. "I'm serious," Hermione insisted. "He's changed. I think you may actually like him now." That was too much for Neville, who sat hard on the floor, gawking at Hermione.

"You're looking for your toad?" Hermione tried to turn the conversation around.

"No." Neville pointed at Draco. "His friend Crabbe stepped on him four days ago. Crushed him to death."

Draco grimaced. He wondered how Hermione would react if he were to bless Crabbe for doing so. Smartly, he decided to shut up. "Oh," he muttered unconcernedly.

"My grandmother got me a cat," Neville continued. "But I can't find her anywhere. She's part Kneazle, you know."

"Could that sorry heap of rugs under the sink be what you're looking for?" Draco asked, pointing a lazy finger to it.

"No, that sorry heap of rugs is Crookshanks, thank you very much," Hermione said testily. She leaped out of bed and walked over to the sink. Neville and Draco followed her.

Leaning over her cat, as if about to lift it, Hermione stopped. "Look!" she whispered to the two boys. Crookshanks lay curled on the floor, his body and tail creating an uneven ring. In the space between his legs and his bushy tail lay another cat, her colours similar to his, but she was no more than half his size. Her head rested on the joint of his upper leg.

"Dinah!" Neville called happily.

"Aren't they cute together?" Hermione asked, her palms held together in front of her chest. "Let's just leave them, all right?"

Neville nodded. "I'll come get her in the morning," he said. "Just don't let her out. My worst nightmare is that she'll wonder into Snape's shower." He gave Draco one last dubious look and left the room.

"Look how well they seem to complete each other," Hermione said, her eyes still fixed on the two ginger cats. When Draco failed to answer, she looked up to him. A very wicked smile was spread on his face, but he said absolutely nothing.

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Harry woke up with the first rays of the sun. He'd just had a wonderful dream. He had gone down to the lake with his parents. They had strolled aimlessly around it. Harry thought they must have walked half the night. Then, he remembered the silver reflections of the sun on the water and the bright green dragonflies that kept crossing their path. He knew whose gift this dream was, and it made him sick.

A strange feeling that someone was watching him spread inside Harry even before he opened his eyes. He tried to pretend he was sleeping, when he realised there was someone actually there. He could hear that person's breaths. He looked up.

"Good, you're up," Dumbledore said as Harry struggled out of his blanket. "Shhh! Don't wake the others."

Harry sat up and looked at the headmaster. He wondered if the old man had had any sleep. He looked like he hadn't. His twinkling blue eyes were framed by dark circles and his creases seemed deeper than ever.

Dumbledore took Harry's left hand in his, turning his Dark Mark up. "Do you want to get rid of this?" he asked. Before Harry could give his answer, he added, "You don't have to. There are some advantages to keeping it. I won't be disappointed if you decide not to have it removed."

"I don't want anything to do with Voldemort," Harry replied harshly. The residuals of the dream made him feel sick.

Despite the things he'd said, Dumbledore looked relieved. "In that case, come with me." He led the way to the door.

Harry wrapped the hospital robes around him. He paused near Hermione's bed, looking at the two lovers sleeping on it, theirs limbs so entangled it was hard to tell which leg belonged to who. "What about Draco?" he asked. "Shouldn't he come with us?" He didn't ask about Ron, knowing that he was too weak.

"Young Draco accepted his branding," sighed Dumbledore. "Even if he regrets it now, he will have to live with it to the day he dies."

The morning chill penetrated the castle and was felt exceptionally well in the larger passageways. The freezing floor sent blades of ice into Harry's bare feet.

"There is another thing," Dumbledore said as he led the way through the corridors. "You have never accepted my brand either. It was your mother who went through the ritual. You can rid yourself of that mark as well."

"I don't want to," Harry said. He instinctively tried to protect it with his hand, when he realised he didn't know where it was. "What does it look like, anyway?" he asked.

"You can't see it," Dumbledore smiled benignly, placing a clenched fist over his heart. "It's in here."

When Harry's feet were already numb with the cold, Dumbledore finally stopped in front of a door. Harry thought it looked vaguely familiar, but he didn't recognise it until they went inside. Then, he remembered that this was the same small classroom in which the weighing of the wands had been conducted, right before the Triwizard tournament.

Dumbledore extended his hand to Harry. The boy submissively placed his left arm in the old man's hand, his sleeve pulled high up.

Dumbledore held out his wand, but kept it low. "Now, before we begin, a word of caution," he said, his eyes taking a dark shade. "This spell is unpleasant. You may feel somewhat sick, or even giddy. However, have no fear. There is no danger." He looked into Harry's bright green eyes. "That is, since you haven't accepted the branding. If you've had accepted it, it would have killed you."

Harry didn't move. He didn't even blink.

"If you want to reconsider your decision, this is the time to do so."

Harry lifted his chin and said nothing.

Seeing that Harry's persistence did not waver, the old headmaster began enchanting the spell, touching the tip of his wand to the mark on Harry's arm.

The red mark began distorting and losing its shape. What was clearly a skull with a snake turned into a twisted vermilion line that then took the shape of a multi-headed arrow. It kept changing and shifting without lingering on a single shape, changing its colour as well - red, orange, yellow - it was a golden phoenix for a brief moment, and kept transforming.

Harry felt as if he was being taken in a Gringotts' cart, which went out of control. Images rushed in front of his eyes, too swift for him to see what was in them. He felt seasick and wanted to sit down, but he couldn't. The spell held his arm attached to Dumbledore's wand like one gets attached to a Portkey while using it to travel. The comparison to a Portkey was also good to describe what he was feeling. He felt he was stuck in a never-ending Portkey transfer. There was a buzzing in his ears and the swirling images became darker and darker, until they became completely black and he was not aware any more of whether he was standing or not. He assumed he was not, and then he assumed nothing more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sirius opened his eyes lazily. Feeling Arabella beside him and knowing that Harry was safe in the next bed had a good influence on the quality of his sleep. He yawned and took a peek in Harry's direction. His stretch froze in mid-motion.

"Where's Harry?" he bellowed so loud that it woke everybody up with a start. The hospital door opened with a bang and Madam Pomfrey and Snape rushed inside. Sirius leaped leaping over Arabella and landed on the floor beside Harry's empty bed.

"What's all the fuss?" Arabella asked, sitting up to watch him.

"Harry's not in his bed." His face became a mask of worry. "You don't think he's done something stupid, do you?"

"It's Harry we're talking about," Snape sneered. "Of course he's done something stupid." If he was seeking to inflame Sirius, he had failed. Sirius paled significantly and had to support himself on the headboard.

"Oh, relax Black," Snape mocked Sirius' worry. "He's with the headmaster. They're getting rid of that little souvenir You-Know-Who had left him."

"Dumbledore's removing the Dark Mark from him? I didn't know it was possible." Sirius' eyes were wide with surprise.

"It's dangerous, but accomplishable in some cases," Snape said vaguely.

"Then why didn't you do it?" Sirius asked viciously, pointing at the Potions Master's left arm.

"Well, that would have made it impossible to remain a spy, wouldn't it?" Snape jeered. "And then we wouldn't have had your beloved godson back."

"From what I've heard, you had nothing to do with bringing Harry back alive," Sirius made a counterattack. "As a matter of fact, he would have been dead had it not been for Ron."

The redheaded boy blushed, which finally made him look like himself.

Snape lowered his eyes to the floor.

"What good are you as a spy, anyway?" Sirius continued relentlessly. "You won't even testify about Pettigrew on my behalf."

"Who said that I won't?" Snape asked hotly.

Again, Sirius looked surprised. "You will?" he asked, as if not daring to believe.

"I couldn't do it before," Snape said. "But now that I've been exposed, there's no reason not to."

Sirius couldn't hold back and swept Snape into a crushing hug.

"All right, that's a reason not to testify," Snape said with resentment. "Thank you, Black, for showing me the light."

Sirius held up his hands, a wide smile still spread over his face. "It'll never happen again," he said.

"Good," Snape spat. "Because if it does, not only will I not testify, but I will also take you personally to the Dementors, making sure that this time you won't escape."

"It's a deal," Sirius laughed. He turned to Arabella, where he knew his happy reaction would be welcome.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Harry?" A voice came from a great distance, penetrating the thick wall of silence that surrounded him.

"Harry?" It came again, closer this time. Harry opened his eyes to look at the speaker.

"Ron?" Harry asked, a red head hovering over him, still out of focus. He recognised his usual infirmary bed. The feeble sun in the window behind him indicated that it was still morning. Harry could recognise the time of day by the angle of the sunrays through this particular window. He'd spent that much time looking through it.

The response was somewhat delayed. "No, it's me, Fred. Ron is still too weak to get out of bed."

Harry blinked at him, the memories of the last twenty-four hours swarming into his head like a giant shock wave. He muttered a very dirty word, and quickly apologised.

"No need to be sorry," Fred smiled at him. "I feel quite the same way about it."

"What happened?" Harry asked.

"Look for yourself," Sirius said, moving closer to him. He patted the boy's left arm, gently moving away the sleeve of his robe.

Harry looked at it and smiled. He was so used to having the Dark Mark by then, that the skin looked almost bare without it. It was white and fresh and pure.

Sirius placed a breakfast tray on Harry's knees. "I'll be leaving now," he said, ruffling Harry's eternally dishevelled hair. "The place will be swarming with visitors soon, and I don't want to take chances." He looked at Draco, used to having the blonde boy at Harry's side. Seeing that Draco was too occupied with Hermione, he made a face. "You'll be all right here?" he asked.

"No problem," Harry replied. He actually felt better than he had in weeks.

Taking his canine form, Sirius gave Harry one last look. Harry could swear that the dog was smiling at him. He ambled to the door and tried to open it with his front paw. The task proving impossible, he turned back into a man, opened the door, transfigured again, and was just in time to jab his nose in the way, to stop the door from closing. With a little yelp, he went through it.

Watching Sirius with amusement spiced with concern, Harry didn't notice Krum approaching him.

"I owe you an apa-ology," Krum said, making Harry jump.

"For what?" Harry asked, pushing his untouched food aside.

"For calling you a Death Eater. For saying you vere to blame for vhat happa-ned to Cho." Krum pronounced the last word with extra softness.

"You said I'd get someone killed, and I almost did," Harry said bitterly, looking at his best friend. Although it was mid-morning, Ron hadn't woken from his potion-induced sleep yet. Fred was hovering over him, and Harry had a strong suspicion that he was preparing a nasty surprise for his brother for when he finally woke up.

"From vot I hear, he may haff safed your life, but you safed his soul," Krum said, sitting on the edge of Harry's bed, picking up his food tray, as not to tip it over.

Harry tried to keep a straight face. He picked up a piece of toast and nibbled on it innocently. "What are you talking about?" he asked when he was sure his voice wouldn't give away the secret.

"It is nice, vot you're hiding your friend, but I know he vorked for You-Know-Who," Krum said, staring into Harry's anxious eyes. "Don't vorry, I von't tell anyone. I, too, think that he has earned his second chance. But just think. Vot would haff happened if he hadn't jumped into that curse?"

"I'd be dead, and he'd be all right?" Harry said sullenly.

"Except for the obvious," Krum said, wrinkling his connected thick brows.

Harry shook his head, signing that he didn't know what the other boy had meant.

"He'd still be serving You-Know-Who. And after he'd haff killed a few innocent people, he'd haff met some Auror or other and lost the duel. Either he'd be spending the rest of his life in Azkaban, or he'd be dead. In a vay, you safed his life."

The thought of Ron fighting Aurors on Voldemort's side made Harry sputter and pale.

"I'm sorry for your friend, Harry. But you did the best thing you could do for him. He vill probably be all right in a few weeks," Krum concluded, lowering the tray of food onto Harry's knees.

Harry nodded, imagining Mrs Weasley learning that her son had become a Death Eater. It was not a pretty sight. There was no doubt that at least for Ron's family, it was better this way. He took another bite of toast, wondering if there was anything he could have done that would have made Ron choose differently.

"I'll be leaving in a few days," Krum said, breaking Harry's train of thoughts. "Do you vant to try and catch some Snitches before I go?"

"I would like that," Harry said, "But I don't think that would be appropriate. I don't think Ron would mind, but I don't want to offend his family."

"Actually, it was my idea," said a voice from the door. Harry looked up to see Charlie, holding three broomsticks and a bag of Quidditch balls.

"Right now?" Harry asked, dazed.

"I've got your Firebolt," Charlie said, stepping into the room and giving Harry one of the brooms.

"Where did you get it?" Harry exclaimed, fondling his old and beloved broomstick.

"The centaurs brought it here days ago. Scared the hell out of everyone," Charlie smiled. He gave Krum one of the remaining brooms. "Well?" he said, trying to look impatient.

Harry threw the piece of toast back to his plate and got up. "Why not?" he said. After all, he was alive, thanks to his friend, and there was no better way than playing Quidditch to remember that.

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