It was Saturday, on the 4th of April, in the year 1992.
Mr. and Mrs. Davis looked rather nervous, as they sat in acertain special section of the Hogwarts Quidditch stands - thoughtoday the cushioned benches did not look upon flying broomsticks,but rather viewed a gigantic square of something like parchment; agreat white blankness soon to flicker with windows into grass andsoldiers. For now it showed only the reflected dull gray color ofthe surrounding overcast skies. (Looking rather stormy, though theweather-wizards had promised that the rain wouldn't break beforenightfall.)
Ordinarily it was the ancient tradition of Hogwarts that mereparents were to Stay Out - for much the same reason that impatientchildren are told to get out of the kitchen and not meddle in thecook's affairs. The only reason for a parent-teacher conference wasif a teacher felt that a parent wasn't shaping up properly. It tookan exceptional circ*mstance to make the Hogwarts administrationfeel that it had to justify itself to you. On any givenoccasion, generally speaking, the Hogwarts administration wasbacked up by eight hundred years of distinguished history and youwere not.
Thus it had been with some trepidation that Mr. and Mrs. Davishad insisted on an audience with Deputy Headmistress McGonagall. Itwas hard to muster a proper sense of indignation when you wereconfronting the same dignified witch who, twelve years and fourmonths earlier, had given both of you two weeks' detention aftercatching you in the act of conceiving Tracey.
On the other hand, Mr. and Mrs. Davis's courage had been helpedby angrily waving about a copy of The Quibblerwhose headline showed, in bright bold text for all the world tosee:
PACTS WITH POTTER?
BONES, DAVIS, GRANGER
IN LOVE RECTANGLE OF FEAR
And so Mr. and Mrs. Davis had argued their way into the FacultyBox of the Hogwarts Quidditch stands, where they were now ensconcedwith an excellent view of Professor Quirrell's enchanted screens,so that the two of them could see for themselves "Just what theFiddly-Snocks has been going on in this school, if you'll pardonthe expression, Deputy Headmistress McGonagall!"
Seated to the left of Mr. Davis was another concerned parent, awhite-haired man in elegant black robes of unmatchable quality, oneLucius Malfoy, political leader of the strongest faction of theWizengamot.
To the left of Lord Malfoy, a sneeringly aristocratic man with ascarred face who had been introduced to them as Lord Jugson.
Then an elderly but sharp-eyed fellow named Charles Nott,rumored to be nearly as wealthy as Lord Malfoy, seated on LordJugson's left.
On the right of Mrs. Davis, one would find the comely Lady andyet handsomer Lord of the Noble and Most Ancient House ofGreengrass. Young they were as wizards counted age, garbed in greysilken robes set with tiny dark emeralds embroidered into the shapeof grass blades. The Lady Greengrass was considered a key swingvote on the Wizengamot, her own mother having retired from the bodywith surprising speed. Her charming husband, though his family wasnot noble or wealthy of itself, had taken a seat on the HogwartsBoard of Governors.
To their right, a square-jawed and incredibly tough-looking oldwitch, who had shaken hands with Mr. and Mrs. Davis without theslightest hint of condescension. This was Amelia Bones, Director ofthe Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
To Amelia's right was a seniorish woman who had set the fashionscene of magical Britain on its ear by integrating a live vultureinto her hat, one Augusta Longbottom. Though she was not addressedas Lady, Madam Longbottom would exercise the full rights of theLongbottom family for so long as their last scion had yet to attainhis majority, and she was considered a prominent figure in aminority faction of the Wizengamot.
At the side of Madam Longbottom was seated none other than ChiefWarlock Supreme Mugwump Headmaster Albus Percival Wulfric BrianDumbledore, legendary defeater of Grindelwald, protector ofBritain, rediscoverer of the fabled twelve uses of dragon's blood,the most powerful wizard in the world &c.
And finally, on the far right, one would find the enigmaticDefense Professor of Hogwarts, Quirinus Quirrell, who was leaningback on the cushioned benches as though resting; seeming entirelyand naturally at ease in the rarefied company of a voting quorum ofthe Hogwarts Board of Governors, which had dropped by on this fineSaturday to learn just what the Fiddly-Snocks had been going on atHogwarts in general and with Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, DaphneGreengrass, Susan Bones, and Neville Longbottom in particular. Thename of Harry Potter had also been much discussed.
Oh, and one mustn't forget Tracey Davis, of course. DirectorBones's eyebrows had climbed in some interest upon hearing theyoung couple introduced as her parents. Lord Jugson had given thema brief, incredulous stare before dismissing them with a snort.Lucius Malfoy had greeted them politely, his smile containing ahint of grim amusem*nt mixed with pity.
Mr. and Mrs. Davis, whose last vote on anything of significancehad been touching their wands to the name of Minister Fudge, whohad all of three hundred Galleons stored in their Gringotts vault,and who respectively worked at selling cauldrons in a Potions shopand enchanting Omnioculars, were pressed up tightly against eachother, sitting rigidly erect upon their cushioned benches, anddesperately wishing they'd worn nicer robes.
The sky above was a solid mass of cloud dispersed into darkerand lighter grays, grim with the promise of future storms; thoughno lightning flickered as yet, nor distant rumbles of thunderechoed; and only a few threatening droplets had fallen.
To their designated starting place in a certain forest, theSunshine Regiment marched, though it was really more like a slowwalk; you wouldn't want to tire yourself out before the battle evenstarted, and the breezes of April were annoyingly humid, thoughcool. Ahead of them, a yellow flame wandered slowly through theair, guiding them according to their pace.
Susan Bones kept throwing worried glances toward the SunshineGeneral as they marched through the grayly illuminated forest.Professor Snape's going after Hermione seemed to have really shakenher. Hermione had even missed her Sunshine Regiment OfficialPlanning Meeting, which seemed understandable enough; but whenSusan had offered her sympathy afterward, Hermione had stammeredthat she'd lost track of time, which wasn't at all a usual thingfor her to say, and the girl had looked exhausted and frightenedlike she'd just spent three days locked in a bathroom stall with aDementor. Even now, when all the Sunshine General's focus should'vebeen on the coming battle, the Ravenclaw girl's gaze was constantlydarting in all directions, as though she expected Dark Wizards tojump out of the bushes and sacrifice her.
"The ban on Muggle artifacts cuts down our options a lot,"Anthony Goldstein was saying in the dour tones the boy used todenote deliberate pessimism. "I had the idea of trying toTransfigure nets to throw on people, but -"
"No good," said Ernie Macmillan. The Hufflepuff boy shook hishead, looking even more serious than Anthony. "I mean, it's justlike throwing a hex, they'd dodge."
Anthony nodded. "That's what I figured, too. Do you have anyideas, Seamus?"
The former Chaotic Lieutenant still looked a bit nervous andout-of-place, marching along with his new comrades in the SunshineRegiment. "Sorry," said the newly minted Captain Finnigan. "I'mmore the strategic master type."
"I'm the strategic master type," said Ron Weasley,sounding put-off.
"There are three armies," the Sunshine General saidacerbically, "which means we fight two armies at once,which means we need more than one strategist, which means shut up,Ron!"
Ron gave their General a surprised and worried look. "Hey," theGryffindor boy said in a calming tone, "you shouldn't let Snape getto you so much -"
"What do you think we ought to do, General?" Susan saidvery loudly and quickly. "I mean, we don't really have a plan atthis point." Their official planning session had failedamazingly with Hermione gone and both Ron and Anthonythinking they were in charge.
"Do we really need a plan?" the Sunshine General said, soundinga little distracted. "We've got you and me and Lavender and Parvatiand Hannah and Daphne and Ron and Ernie and Anthony andCaptain Finnigan."
"That -" began Anthony.
"Sounds like a pretty good strategy," Ron said with an approvingnod. "We've got as many strong soldiers now as both other armiesput together. Chaos's only got Potter and Longbottom and Nott left- well, and Zabini too, I suppose -"
"And Tracey," said Hermione.
Several people swallowed nervously.
"Oh, stop it," Susan said sharply. "She's just a battle-hardenedmember of S.P.H.E.W., that's all General Sunshine means."
"Still," Ernie said, turning to look seriously at Susan, "Ithink you'd better go with whatever group fights Chaos, CaptainBones. I know you can't use your double magical powers except wheninnocents are in danger, but I mean - just in case Miss Davisdoes, you know, go out of control and try to eat someone'ssoul -"
"I can handle her," Susan told him, keeping her voicereassuring. Admittedly, Susan hadn't been replaced by aMetamorphmagus at the moment, but then Tracey probably wasn'tPolyjuiced Dumbledore or whoever.
Captain Finnigan intoned in a deep, sort-of-rumbling voice, "Ifind your lack of skepticism disturbing." He raised his hand withhis thumb and forefinger almost touching, pointed at Ernie.
For some reason Anthony Goldstein seemed to be having a suddenchoking fit. "What's that supposed to mean?" said Ernie.
"It's just something General Potter says sometimes," saidCaptain Finnigan. "Funny, when you first join the Chaos Legion itall seems crazy, and then after a couple of months you realize thatactually everyone who isn't in the Chaos Legion is crazy-"
"I said," Ron said loudly, "it sounds like goodstrategy. We don't Transfigure anything, we don't tire ourselvesout, we handle whatever they throw at us, and then we just overrunthem."
"Okay," said Hermione. "Let's do that."
"But -" said Anthony, shooting a glare at Ron. "But General,Harry Potter's got sixteen people left in his army. Dragonand us each have twenty-eight. Harry knows that, he knows he's gotto come up with something incredible -"
"Like what?" demanded Hermione, sounding stressed. "If we don'tknow what he's planning, we might as well save our magic for doingmassed Finites. Like we should've done lasttime!"
Susan touched Hermione gently on the shoulder. "GeneralGranger?" said Susan. "I think you should take a break for a bitbefore the battle."
She'd been expecting Hermione to argue, but Hermione just noddedand then walked a little faster, pulling away from the SunshineRegiment Official Officer Group, her eyes still watching theforest, and sometimes the sky.
Susan followed her. It wouldn't do, having it look like theSunshine General was being ejected from her own Official OfficerGroup.
"Hermione?" Susan said softly, after they'd walked a bit away."You've got to focus. Professor Quirrell's in charge here, notSnape, and he won't let anything bad happen to you or anyone."
"You're not helping," Hermione said, sounding shaky. "You're nothelping at all, Captain Bones."
The two of them walked faster, circling around some of the othersoldiers, inspecting the marching perimeter and glancing at thesurrounding trees.
"Susan?" Hermione said in a small voice, when they'd gottenfurther away from all the others. "Do you think Daphne's rightabout Draco Malfoy plotting something?"
"Yes," Susan said at once, not even thinking about it. "You cantell, because his name's got the letters M-A-L-F-O and Y init."
Hermione looked around, as if to make sure that nobody waswatching, although of course that was a wonderful way to get otherpeople to pay attention to you. "Could Malfoy have been behind whatSnape did?"
"Snape could be behind Malfoy," Susan said thoughtfully,remembering dinner-table conversations she'd heard at Auntie's, "orLucius Malfoy could be behind both of them." A slight chill wentdown Susan's spine as this last thought occurred to her. Suddenly,telling Hermione to just focus on the coming battle seemed a lotless reasonable. "Why, did you find some sort of clue aboutthat?"
Hermione shook her head. "No," the Ravenclaw girl said, in avoice that sounded almost like she was about to cry. "I was - justthinking about it myself - that's all."
In their designated place in a forest near Hogwarts, the DragonGeneral and the warriors of Dragon Army waited where their redflame had led them, beneath grey skies.
At Draco's right side stood Padma Patil, his second-in-command,who had once led all of Dragon Army after Draco had been stunned.At Draco's back was Vincent, the son of Crabbe, a family which hadserved the Malfoys into the distance of forgotten memory; themuscular boy was watchful as he was always watchful, whether battlehad been declared or no. Further back, Gregory of the Goyles stoodwaiting beside one of the two broomsticks Dragon Army had beengiven; if the Goyles had not served the Malfoys so long as theCrabbes, yet they had served no less well.
And at Draco's left side, now, stood one Dean Thomas ofGryffindor, a mudblood or possible half-blood who knew nothing ofhis father.
Sending Dean Thomas to Dragon Army had been a quite deliberatemove on Harry's part, Draco was certain. Three other formerChaotics had also been transferred to Dragon Army, and all werewatching Draco hawklike to see if he offered the former Lieutenantthe slightest insult.
Some might have called it sabotage, but Draco knew better. Harryhad also sent Lieutenant Finnigan to the Sunshine Regiment, eventhough Professor Quirrell's mandate had only required that Harrygive up one Lieutenant. That too had been a deliberatemove, making crystal clear to everyone that Harry wasn'tdumping his least-favored soldiers.
In one sense, it might have been easier for Draco to win thetrue loyalties of his new soldiers if they'd thought Harry hadn'twanted them. In another sense... well, it wasn't easy to put intowords. Harry had given him good soldiers with their pride intact,but it was more than that. Harry had showed kindliness toward hissoldiers, but it was more than that. It wasn't just Harryplaying fair, it was something that... that you couldn't help butcontrast with the way the game was played in Slytherin House.
So Draco hadn't offered the slightest insult to Mr. Thomas, butbrought him straight to his side, subordinate to himself and Padmabut no one else. It was a test, Draco had told Mr. Thomas andeveryone, not a promotion. Mr. Thomas would have to show himselfworthy of rank within Dragon Army - but he would be given a chance,and the chance would be fair. Mr. Thomas had lookedsurprised at the ceremony of it (the Chaos Legion, from what Dracohad heard, didn't stand on formality) but the Gryffindor boy hadstood a little straighter, and nodded.
And then, after Mr. Thomas had done well enough in one of DragonArmy's training sessions, he'd been brought into the strategysession in Dragon Army's huge military office. And a few minutesinto the session, Padma had happened to ask - as though it was aperfectly normal question - whether Mr. Thomas had any ideas abouthow to defeat the Chaos Legion.
The Gryffindor boy had said cheerfully that Harry had predictedthat General Malfoy would get one of his soldiers to ask him that,and that Harry had given him the message that General Malfoy shouldask himself where his relative advantage lay - what Draco Malfoycould do, or what Dragon Army could do, that the Chaos Legioncouldn't match - and then try to exploit it for all it was worth.Dean Thomas couldn't think of what that advantage might be, but ifhe did come up with any ideas for beating Chaos, he'dshare them. Harry had ordered him to, after all.
Sigh, Draco had thought, since he couldn't actuallysigh out loud. But it was good advice, and Draco had followed it,sitting at his bedroom desk with quill and parchment listing outeverything that might be a relative advantage.
And, almost to Draco's own surprise, he'd had an idea, a realone. In fact he'd had two.
The hollow bell sounded through the forest, somehow soundingmore ominous than ever before. On the instant, the two pilots cried"Up! " and leapt onto their broomsticks, heading into thegray sky.
Mr. and Mrs. Davis had now slumped slightly against each other,more from sheer muscle exhaustion than from any decrease oftension. Before them, the vast blank white parchment flickered withthree great windows, as though holes had been cut through into theforest, showing three armies on the march. Lesser windows showedthe six riders upon their broomsticks, and the corner of theparchment showed a view of the entire forest, with glowing dots toindicate armies and scouts.
The window into Sunshine showed General Granger and her Captainsmarching in the center of the Sunshine Regiment, protected byContego screens along with a number of other youngwitches. The Sunshine Regiment, the Defense Professor had remarked,knew well that it had now acquired a strong advantage inexperienced soldiers, and it meant to protect those soldiers from asurprise attack. Aside from that, the Sunshine Soldiers were movingforward at a steady march, conserving their strength.
The soldiers in General Malfoy's army, at least those withhigher Transfiguration scores, were picking up leaves andTransfiguring them into... well, if you looked at Padma Patil, whowas almost done with hers, it looked like her leaf was becoming aleft-handed glove bearing a dangling strap. (The window had zoomedin to show this.)
Lord Jugson was watching the screen with a flat expression; hisvoice, when he spoke, seemed to ooze and drip with disdain. "Whatis your son doing, Lucius?"
The foreign-born witch who stood at Draco Malfoy's right sidehad finished Transfiguring her glove, and was now bringing itbefore the Dragon General like a sacrifice.
"I do not know," said Lucius Malfoy, his tone calm though noless aristocratic, "but I must trust that he has good reason fordoing it."
All Dragon Army stopped for a moment as Padma slid the gloveover her left hand, strapped it in place, and presented it beforeDraco Malfoy; who also stopped in place, took several deep breaths,raised his wand, executed a precise set of eight movements andbellowed "Colloportus! "
The Dragon Warrior raised her gloved hand, flexed it, and gave asmall bow to Draco Malfoy, who returned it more shallowly, thoughthe Dragon General was staggering slightly. Padma then returned toher place at Draco's side, and the Dragons began marching oncemore.
"Well," remarked Augusta Longbottom. "I don't suppose someonewould care to explain?" Amelia Bones was frowning slightly as shegazed at the screen.
"For some reason or other," said the amused voice of ProfessorQuirrell, "it seems that the scion of Malfoy is able to castsurprisingly strong magic for a first-year student. Due to thepurity of his blood, of course. Certainly the good Lord Malfoywould not have openly flouted the underage magic laws by arrangingfor his son to receive a wand before his acceptance intoHogwarts."
"I suggest you be careful in your implications, Quirrell,"Lucius Malfoy said coldly.
"Oh, I am," Professor Quirrell said. "A Colloportuscannot be dispelled by Finite Incantatem; it requires anAlohom*ora of equal strength. Until then, a glove soCharmed will resist lesser material forces, deflect the Sleep Hexand the Stunning Hex. And as neither Mr. Potter nor Miss Grangercan cast a counterspell powerful enough, that Charm is invincibleupon this battlefield. It is not the original intent of the Charm,nor the intent of whoever taught Mr. Malfoy an emergency spell forevading his enemies. But it would seem that Mr. Malfoy has beenlearning creativity."
Lucius Malfoy had straightened as the Defense Professor spoke;he now sat erect upon his cushioned bench, his head heldperceptibly higher than before, and when he spoke it was with quietpride. "He will be the greatest Lord Malfoy that has yetlived."
"Faint praise," Augusta Longbottom said under her breath; AmeliaBones chuckled, as did Mr. Davis for a tiny, fatal fraction of asecond before he stopped with a strangled gargle.
"I quite agree," said Professor Quirrell, though it wasn't clearto whom he spoke. "Unfortunately for Mr. Malfoy, he is still new tothe art of creativity, and so he has committed a classic error ofRavenclaw."
"And what might that be?" said Lucius Malfoy, his voice nowturned chill once more.
Professor Quirrell had leaned back in his seat, the pale blueeyes briefly unfocusing as one of the windows shifted its viewpointwithin the greater screen, zooming in to show the sweat now onDraco Malfoy's forehead. "It is such a beautiful idea that Mr.Malfoy has quite overlooked its pragmatic difficulties."
"Would someone care to explain that?" said Lady Greengrass. "Notall of us present are experts at such... affairs."
Amelia Bones spoke, the old witch's voice somewhat dry. "It willtempt them to try to catch hexes that they would be wiser to simplydodge. The more so, if they have had little practice catching them.And the casting of so many Charms will tire their strongestwarrior."
Professor Quirrell gave the DMLE Director a half-nod ofacknowledgment. "As you say, Madam Bones. Mr. Malfoy is new to thebusiness of having ideas, and so when he has one, he becomes proudof himself for having it. He has not yet had enough ideas tounflinchingly discard those that are beautiful in some aspects andimpractical in others; he has not yet acquired confidence in hisown ability to think of better ideas as he requires them. What weare seeing here is not Mr. Malfoy's best idea, I fear, but ratherhis only idea."
Lord Malfoy simply turned to watch the screens again, as thoughthe Defense Professor had used up his right to exist.
"But -" said Lord Greengrass. "But what in Merlin's name isHarry Potter -"
Sixteen remaining soldiers of the Chaos Legion - or fifteen plusBlaise Zabini, rather - marched confidently through the forest,their shoes thudding over the still-dry ground. Their camouflageuniforms blended into the forest even more than usual, all colorswashed out by the tints of an overcast day.
Sixteen Chaos Legionnaires, against twenty-eight Dragon Warriorsand twenty-eight Sunshine Soldiers.
The common consensus had been that, with odds that bad, it waspractically impossible for them to lose. After all, General Chaoswas bound to come up with something really spectacular,facing odds like that.
There was something almost nightmarish about how everyone seemedto now expect Harry to pull miracles out of his hat, on demand, anytime one was needed. It meant that if you couldn't do theimpossible, you were disappointing your friends andfailing to live up to your potential...
Harry hadn't bothered complaining to Professor Quirrell about'too much pressure'. Harry's mental model of the Defense Professorhad predicted him looking severely annoyed, saying things along thelines of You are perfectly capable of solving this problem, Mr.Potter; did you even try? and then deducting several hundredQuirrell points.
From above, from where two broomsticks watched their march, thehigh young voice of Tess Walsh cried "Friend!" and after anothermoment, "Gingersnap!"
A handful of seconds later, the soldier who'd code-named herselfGingersnap returned bearing a double handful of acorns, sweatingslightly in the cool but humid air from the jog that had taken herto the oak tree Neville had spotted. Gingersnap approached to whereShannon was holding a uniform-shirt with the neck tied off, in lieuof anyone having to Transfigure a bag. When Gingersnap brought herhands forward to try and dump her acorns into the holding-shirt,Chaotic Shannon, giggling, jerked the shirt to the right, then tothe left again as Gingersnap made another effort to dump theacorns, until a sharp "Miss Friedman!" from Lieutenant Nott causedShannon to sigh and hold the shirt still. Gingersnap dumped heracorns into those accumulated, and then headed out for more.
Somewhere in the background, Ellie Knight was singing her veryown version of the Chaos Legion's marching song, and around halfthe other soldiers were trying to step along with it despite notknowing the tune in advance. Nearby, Nita Berdine, who had a highTransfiguration score, finished creating yet another pair of greensunglasses, and handed them to Adam Beringer, who folded up thesunglasses before tucking them into his uniform pocket. Othersoldiers were already wearing their own green sunglasses, despitethe cloudy day.
You might guess that there was some sort of incrediblycomplicated and fascinating explanation behind this, and you wouldbe right.
Two days earlier Harry had been sitting amid his bookcases inthe comfy rocking-chair he'd obtained for his trunk's cavern level,pondering silently in the quiet span between classes anddinnertime, thinking about power.
For sixteen Chaotics to defeat twenty-eight Sunnies andtwenty-eight Dragons they would need a force amplifier. There werelimits to what you could do with maneuver. There had to bea secret weapon and it had to be invincible, or at least moderatelyunstoppable.
Muggle artifacts were now illegal in Hogwarts's mock battles,banned by Ministry edict. And the trouble with finding some otherclever and unusual spell was that an army twice your own size couldbrute-force Finite almost anything you tried. The SunshineRegiment might have missed that tactic with the Transfiguredchainmail, but nobody would miss it again now that ProfessorQuirrell had pointed it out. And Finite Incantatem was abrute-force counterspell which required at least as much magic asthe spell being canceled... which, if you were severelyoutnumbered, made it a whole new order of military challenge. Theenemy could Finite anything you tried, and still haveenough magic left over for shields and volleys of Sleep Hexes.
Unless, somehow, you could invoke potencies beyond the ordinarystrength of first-year Hogwarts students, something too powerfulfor the enemy to Finite.
So Harry had asked Neville if he'd ever heard of any small,safe sacrificial rituals -
And then, after the screaming and the shouting had subsided,after Harry had stopped trying to argue about Unbreakable Vows andjust given up the whole thing as impossible from a public relationsstandpoint, Harry had realized that he hadn't even needed to gothere. They taught you how to invoke potencies far beyond your ownstrength in ordinary Hogwarts classes.
Sometimes, even though you were looking straight at something,you didn't realize what you were looking at until youhappened to ask exactly the right question.
Defense. Charms. Transfiguration. Potions. History of Magic.Astronomy. Broomstick Flying. Herbology...
"Foe! " screamed the voice from above.
It was a good thing that Neville Longbottom hadn't the tiniestidea that his grandmother was watching; or he would've been moreself-conscious about screaming scary battlecries at the top of hislungs while casting Luminos every three seconds as herocketed through a dense forest of trees, hot on the tail ofGregory Goyle.
("But -" Augusta Longbottom said, her expression showing almostas much astonishment as worry. "But Neville is afraid ofheights!")
("Not all fears last," said Amelia Bones. The old witch wasfavoring the great screen before them with a measuring gaze. "Orperhaps he has found courage. It is much the same, in theend.")
A glimmer of red -
Neville dodged, very nearly into a tree but he did dodge; andthen Neville somehow also managed to dodge almost all ofthe branches before they smacked him in the face.
Now Mr. Goyle's broomstick was pulling further and further away- even though the two of them were riding exactly the samebroomstick and Mr. Goyle weighed more, somehow Neville was stillfalling behind. So Neville slowed down, pulled back, angled up outof the forest and began to accelerate back toward where the ChaosLegion still marched.
Twenty seconds later - it hadn't been a long chase, just anexciting one - Neville was back among his fellow Chaotics,and dismounted his broom to walk on the ground for a littlebit.
"Neville -" said General Potter. Harry's voice was a littledistant, as he walked carefully and steadily through the forest,his wand still applied to the almost-finished Form of the object hewas slowly Transfiguring. Beside him, Blaise Zabini, working asmaller version of the same Transfiguration, looked like ashambling Inferi as he stumbled forward. "I told you - Neville -you don't have to -"
"Yes, I do," said Neville. He looked down at where his fingersgrasped the broomstick, and saw that not just his hands, but hiswhole arms were shaking. But unless anyone else in Chaos had beenpracticing dueling for an hour a day with Mr. Diggory, and thenpracticing their aim in private for another hour afterward, Nevillewas probably the best shot from a broomstick even after taking intoaccount that he wasn't a very good flyer.
"Good show, Neville," Theodore said from where he was walkingahead of them all, leading the Chaos Legion forward through theforest while wearing only his undershirt.
(Augusta Longbottom and Charles Nott exchanged brief astonishedglances and then wrenched their gazes away from one another asthough stung.)
Neville took a few deep breaths, trying to steady his hands,trying to think; Harry might not be good for deep strategicthinking while he was in the middle of an extended Transfiguration."Lieutenant Nott, do you have any idea why Dragon Army just didthat? They lost a broom -" The Dragons had started the combat witha feint to provide a distraction for Mr. Goyle's approach throughthe forest; Neville hadn't realized there were two broomsattacking until almost too late. But the Chaos Legion hadgotten the other pilot. That was why broomsticks usuallydidn't attack before armies met, it meant a whole army wouldconcentrate fire on the broomstick. "And the Dragons didn't evenget anyone, did they?"
"Nope!" Tracey Davis said proudly. She too was now marching byGeneral Potter's side, her wand gripped low and watchful as hereyes scanned the surrounding forest. "I threw up a Prismatic Spherelike a split second before Mr. Goyle's hex got Zabini, and the wayMr. Goyle had his other arm stretched out I think he planned toknock down the General, too." The Slytherin witch smiled withvicious confidence. "Mr. Goyle tried a Breaking Drill Hex, butlearned to his dismay that his weak magic was no match for mynewfound dark powers, hahahaha!"
Some Chaotics laughed with her, but a queasy sensation wasstarting in Neville's stomach as he realized how close the ChaosLegion had come to complete disaster. If Mr. Goyle had managed todisrupt both Transfigurations -
"Report!" snapped the Dragon General, doing his best to concealthe fatigue he felt after casting seventeen Locking Charms, withmore yet to come.
Beads of sweat now dotted Gregory's forehead. "The enemy gotDylan Vaughan," Gregory said formally. "Harry Potter and BlaiseZabini were each Transfiguring something dark-grey and roundish, Idon't think it was finished but it looked like it would be big andhollow, sort of cauldron-shaped. Zabini's was smaller thanPotter's. I couldn't get either of them or disrupt theirTransfigurations, Tracey Davis blocked me. Neville Longbottom is ona broomstick and he's still a terrible flyer but his aim is reallygood."
Draco listened, frowning, and then he glanced at Padma and DeanThomas, who both shook their own heads, indicating that they alsocouldn't think of what might be big and grey and shaped like acauldron.
"Anything else?" said Draco. If that was it, they'd lost a broomfor nothing -
"The only other weird thing I saw," Gregory said, soundingpuzzled, "was that some Chaotics were wearing... sort of likegoggles?"
Draco thought about this, not noticing that he'd stoppedmarching or that all of Dragon Army had automatically stopped withhim.
"Was there anything special about the goggles?" Draco said.
"Um..." Gregory said. "They were... greenish, maybe?"
"Okay," said Draco. Again without thinking, he began walkingonce more and his Dragons followed. "Here's our new strategy. We'reonly going to send eleven Dragons against the Chaos Legion, notfourteen. That should be enough to beat them, now that we canneutralize their special advantage." It was a gamble, but you hadto take gambles sometimes, if you wanted to come in first in athree-way battle.
"You figured out Chaos's plan, General Malfoy?" said Mr. Thomaswith considerable surprise.
"What are they doing?" said Padma.
"I haven't the faintest idea," said Draco, with a smirk of themost refined smugness. "We'll just do the obvious thing."
Harry, having now finished his cauldron, was carefully scoopingacorns into the container while the scouts searched for a nearbysource of water that could be used as a liquid base. They'd comeacross frequent sinkholes and miniature creeks in the forestbefore, so it ought not to take long. Another scout had brought astraight stick that would serve as a stirrer, so Harry didn't haveto Transfigure one.
Sometimes, even though you were looking straight at something,you didn't realize what you were looking at until youhappened to ask exactly the right question...
How can I invoke magical powers that ought to be beyond thereach of first-year students?
There was a cautionary tale the Potions Master had told them(with much sneers and laughter to make the stupidity seemlow-status instead of daring and romantic) about a second-yearwitch in Beauxbatons who'd stolen some extremely restricted andexpensive ingredients, and tried to brew Polyjuiceso she couldborrow the form of another girl for purposes better leftunmentioned. Only she'd managed to contaminate the potion withcat hairs, and then instead of seeking a healerimmediately, the witch had hidden herself in a bathroom, hoping theeffects would just wear off; and when she'd finally been found, ithad been too late to reverse the transformation completely,condemning her to a life of despair as a sort of cat-girlhybrid.
Harry hadn't realized what that meant until the instantof thinking the right question - but what that implied was that ayoung wizard or witch could do things with Potions-Making that theycouldn't even come close to doing with Charms. Polyjuice was one ofthe most potent potions known... but what made Polyjuice aN.E.W.T.-level potion, apparently, wasn't the required age beforeyou had enough magical power; it was how difficult the potion wasto brew precisely and what happened to you if you screwed up.
Nobody in any army had tried brewing any potions up until then.But Professor Quirrell would let you get away with nearly anything,if it was something you could also have done in a real war.Cheating is technique, the Defense Professor had oncelectured them. Or rather, cheating is what the losers calltechnique, and will be worth extra Quirrell points when executedsuccessfully. In principle, there was nothing unrealisticabout Transfiguring a couple of cauldrons and brewing potions outof whatever came to hand, if you had enough time before the armiesmet.
So Harry had retrieved his copy of Magical Drafts andPotions, and begun looking for a safe but useful potion hecould brew in the minutes before the battle started - a potionwhich would win the battle too fast for counterspells, or producespell effects too strong for first-years to Finite.
Sometimes, even though you were looking straight at something,you didn't realize what you were looking at until youhappened to ask exactly the right question...
What potion can I brew using only components gathered froman ordinary forest?
Every recipe in Magical Drafts and Potions used atleast one ingredient from a magical plant or animal. Which wasunfortunate, because all the magical plants and animalswere in the Forbidden Forest, not the safer and lesser woods wherebattles were held.
Someone else might have given up at that point.
Harry had turned the pages from one recipe to another, skimmingfaster and faster in dawning realization, confirming what he hadalready read and was now seeing for the first time.
Every single Potions recipe seemed to demand at least onemagical ingredient, but why should that be true?
Charms required no material components at all; you just said thewords and waved your wand. Harry had been thinking aboutPotions-Making as essentially analogous: Instead of your spokensyllables triggering a spell effect for no comprehensible reason,you collected a batch of disgusting ingredients and stirred fourtimes clockwise, and that arbitrarily triggered a spell effect.
In which case, given that most potions used ordinary componentslike porcupine quills or stewed slugs, you'd expect to see somepotions using only ordinary components.
But instead every single recipe in Magical Drafts andPotions demanded at least one component from amagical plant or animal - an ingredient like silk from anAcromantula or petals from a Venus Fire Trap.
Sometimes, even though you were looking straight at something,you didn't realize what you were looking at until youhappened to ask exactly the right question...
If making a potion is like casting a Charm, why don't I fallover from exhaustion after brewing a draught as powerful asboil-curing?
The Friday before last, Harry's double Potions class had brewedpotion of boil-curing... although even the most trivialhealing Charms, if you tried to cast them with wand andincantation, were at least fourth-year spells. And afterward,they'd all felt the way they usually felt after Potions class,namely, not magically exhausted to any discernibledegree.
Harry had shut his copy of Magical Drafts and Potionswith a snap, and rushed down to the Ravenclaw common room. Harryhad found a seventh-year Ravenclaw doing his N.E.W.T. potionshomework and paid the older boy a Sickle to borrow MostePotente Potions for five minutes; because Harry hadn't wantedto run all the way to the library to find confirmation.
After skimming through five recipes in the seventh-year book,Harry had read the sixth recipe, for a potion of firebreathing, which required Ashwinder eggs... and the bookwarned that the resulting fire could be no hotter than the magicalfire which had spawned the Ashwinder which had laid the eggs.
Harry had shouted "Eureka! " right in the middle of theRavenclaw common room, and been severely rebuked by a nearbyprefect, who'd thought Mr. Potter was trying to cast a spell.Nobody in the wizarding world knew or cared about some ancientMuggle named Archimedes, nor the ur-physicist's realization thatthe water displaced from a bathtub would equal the volume of theobject entering the bathtub...
Conservation laws. They'd been the critical insight in moreMuggle discoveries than Harry could easily count. In Muggletechnology you couldn't raise a feather one meter off the groundwithout the power coming from somewhere. If you looked atmolten lava spilling from a volcano and asked where the heat camefrom, a physicist would tell you about radioactive heavy metals inthe center of the Earth's molten core. If you asked where theenergy to power the radioactivity came from, the physicist wouldpoint to an era before the Earth had formed, and a primordialsupernova in the early days of the galaxy which had baked atomicnuclei heavier than the natural limit, the supernova compressingprotons and neutrons into a tight unstable package that yieldedback some of the supernova's energy when it split. A light bulb wasfueled by electricity, fueled by a nuclear power plant, fueled by asupernova... You could play the game all the way back to the BigBang.
Magic did not appear to work like this, to put itmildly. Magic's attitude toward laws like Conservation of Energywas somewhere between a giant extended middle finger, and a shrugof total indifference. Aguamenti created water out ofnothingness, so far as anyone knew; there was no known lake whosewater level went down each time. That was a simple fifth-yearspell, not considered impressive by wizards, because creating amere glass of water didn't seem amazing to them. They didn't havethe wacky notion that mass ought to be conserved, or that creatinga gram of mass was somehow equivalent to creating90,000,000,000,000 joules of energy. There was an upper-year spellHarry had run across whose literal incantation was'Arresto Momentum!' and when Harry had asked if themomentum went anywhere else he'd just gotten a puzzledlook. Harry had kept an increasingly desperate eye out forsome kind of conservation principle in magic, anywherewhatsoever...
...and the whole time it had been right in front of him in everyPotions class. Potions-Making didn't create magic, itpreserved magic, that was why every potion needed at leastone magical ingredient. And by following instructions like 'stirfour times counterclockwise and once clockwise' - Harry hadhypothesized - you were doing something like casting a small spellthat reshaped the magic in the ingredients. (And unbound thephysical form so that ingredients like porcupine quills dissolvedsmoothly into a drinkable liquid; Harry strongly suspected that aMuggle following exactly the same recipe would end up with nothingbut a spiny mess.) That was what Potions-Making reallywas, the art of transforming existing magical essences. Soyou were a little tired after Potions class, but not much, becauseyou weren't empowering the potions yourself, you were justreshaping magic that was already there. And that was why asecond-year witch could brew Polyjuice, or at least get close.
Harry had kept scanning through Moste Potente Potions,looking for something that might disprove his shiny new theory.After five minutes he'd flipped the older boy another Sickle (overhis protests) and kept going.
The potion of giant strength required a Re'em totrample the mashed Dugbogs you stirred into the potion. It was odd,Harry had realized after a moment, because crushed Dugbogs weren'tstrong themselves, they were just... very, very crushed after theRe'em got through with them.
Another recipe said to 'touch with forged bronze', i.e., grasp aKnut in pliers so you could skim the potion's surface; and if youdropped the Knut all the way in, the book warned, the potion wouldinstantly superheat and boil over the cauldron.
Harry had stared at the recipes and their warnings, forming asecond and stranger hypothesis. Of course it wouldn't be as simpleas Potions-Making using magical potentials imbued in theingredients, like Muggle cars fueled by the combustion potential ofgasoline. Magic would never be as sensible as that...
And then Harry had gone to Professor Flitwick - since he didn'twant to approach Professor Snape outside of class - and Harry hadtold Professor Flitwick that he wanted to invent a new potion, andhe knew what the ingredients ought to be and what the potion shoulddo, but he didn't know how to deduce the required stirring pattern-
After Professor Flitwick had stopped screaming in horror andrunning in little circles, and Professor McGonagall had been calledinto the ensuing fierce interrogation to promise Harry that in thiscase it was both acceptable and important for him to reveal hisunderlying theory, it had developed that Harry had not made anoriginal magical discovery, but rediscovered a law so ancient thatnobody knew who had first formulated it:
A potion spends that which is invested in the creation ofits ingredients.
The heat of goblin forges that had cast the bronze Knut, theRe'em's strength that had crushed the Dugbogs, the magical firethat had spawned the Ashwinder: all these potencies could berecalled, unlocked, and restructured by the spell-like process ofstirring the ingredients in exact patterns.
(From a Muggle standpoint it was just odd, a derangedversion of thermodynamics invented by someone who thought lifeought to be fair. From a Muggle standpoint, the heatexpended in forging the Knut hadn't gone into the bronze, the heathad left and dissipated into the environment, becoming permanentlyless available. Energy was conserved, could be neither created nordestroyed; entropy always increased. But wizards didn'tthink that way: from their perspective, if you'd put some amount ofwork into making a Knut, it stood to reason that you could getexactly the same work back out. Harry had tried to explain why thissounded a bit odd if you'd been raised by Muggles, and ProfessorMcGonagall had asked bemusedly why the Muggle perspective was anybetter than the wizarding one.)
The fundamental principle of Potions-Making had no name and nostandard phrasing, since then you might be tempted to write itdown.
And someone who wasn't wise enough to figure out the principlethemselves might read it.
And they would start having all sorts of bright ideas forinventing new Potions.
And then they would be turned into catgirls.
It had been made very clear to Harry that he wasn't going to besharing this particular discovery with Neville, or Hermione eitherafter the next armies' battle. Harry had tried to say somethingabout Hermione seeming really off lately and this being just thesort of thing that might cheer her up. Professor McGonagall hadsaid flatly that he wasn't even to think it, and Professor Flitwickhad raised his little hands and made a gesture as of snapping awand in half.
Although the two Professors had been kind enough to suggest thatif Mr. Potter thought he knew what the potion's ingredients shouldbe, he might be able to find an already-existing recipe that didthe same thing; and Professor Flitwick had mentioned severalvolumes in the Hogwarts library that might be useful...
The vast parchment-like screen now showed only an aerial view ofthe forest, from which you could barely make out the camouflagedforms of three armies, split up into two groups each, converging tofight their three-way battle.
The benches of the Quidditch stadium were now rapidly filling upwith the more easily bored sort of spectator who only wanted to bethere for the final battle and skip out on all the boring pointsalong the way. (If there was anything wrong with ProfessorQuirrell's battles, it was widely agreed, it was that hisspectacles didn't last nearly as long as Quidditch matches, oncethey actually started. To this Professor Quirrell had replied only,Such is realism, and that had been that.)
Within the huge window - it was all one window now, observingfrom a great height - the vague collections of tiny camouflagedforms grew closer.
Closer.
Almost touching -
The vast white parchment window showed the first touch of battlebetween Sunshine and Chaos, a screaming mass of running childrenwith smiley-faces upon their breasts, charging forward withContego shields held high and others shouting"Somnium! " -
Until one of their number shrieked "Prismatis! " in aterrified voice and the entire charge came to a sudden halt beforethe sparkling wall of force that had appeared in front of them.
Tracey Davis had walked out from behind the trees.
"That's right," said Tracey, her voice low and grim as sheleveled her wand on the barrier. "You should fear me. For I amTracey Davis, the Darke Lady! That's Darke Lady spelled D-A-R-K-E,with an E!"
(Amelia Bones, Director of the Department of Magical LawEnforcement, was sending an inquiring look at Mr. and Mrs. Davis,both of whom looked like they would have dearly preferred to die onthe spot.)
Behind the Prismatic Barrier, there was some kind of hushedargument taking place among the Sunshine Soldiers, one of whom inparticular seemed to be getting scolded by several of theothers.
Then, a moment later, Tracey flinched.
Susan Bones had come to the front of the Sunshinecontingent.
("Goodness," said Augusta Longbottom. "What do yousuppose your grand-niece has been learning at Hogwarts?")
("I don't know," Amelia Bones said calmly, "but I shall owl hera Chocolate Frog and instructions to learn more of it.")
The Prismatic Barrier vanished.
The Sunshine Soldiers resumed their charge forward.
Tracey yelled, her voice high with strain,"Inflammare! " and the Sunshine charge came to anothersudden halt as a line of fire blazed up between them in thehalf-dry grass, extending to follow the path of Tracey's wand asshe pointed it; an instant later Susan Bones cried "FiniteIncantatem! " and the flames dimmed, brightened, dimmed in thecontest of their wills, other soldiers raising their wards to aimat Tracey; and that was when Neville Longbottom plungedshrieking out of the sky.
One of the Dragon Warriors, Raymond Arnold, made a hand-sign,pointing forward and oblique left; and there was a sudden hushedhiss of whispers among the Dragon Army contingent as they allquietly reoriented themselves in the direction of the enemy. TheSunnies knew they were there, of course both armies knew; butsomehow, in this moment, they had all become instinctivelyquiet.
The Dragons crept forward further, and then further, the dullcamouflaged forms of the Sunnies beginning to appear among thedistant trees, and still nobody spoke, nobody bellowed the call tocharge.
Draco was now at the forefront of his soldiers, Vincent behindhim and Padma only a shade further back; if the three of them couldtake the shock of Sunshine's best, the rest of Dragon Army mightstand a chance.
Then Draco saw one Sunnie staring at him from the distance, inthe vanguard of her own army; staring at him with a look of fury-
Across the forest battleground, their eyes met.
Draco had only a fraction of a second to wonder, in the back ofhis mind, what Hermione Granger was so angry about, before theshout went up from both their armies; and they were all runningforward to the charge.
The other Chaotics had appeared now from among the trees, somehad dropped out of trees, and the battle was in full forcenow, everyone firing in every direction at anything that lookedlike an enemy. Plus a number of Sunnies crying "Luminos! "at Neville Longbottom as the Chaos Hufflepuff twisted and rocketedup through the air on courses that could only be described as,indeed, "chaotic" -
And it happened, the way it happened only one time out of twentyin mock aerial combat, that Neville Longbottom's broomstick glowedbright red beneath his clenched hands.
It should've meant that Longbottom was out of the game.
Then, in the Hogwarts stands, among the watching crowds ofstudents, a scream went up -
Combat realism. It was Professor Quirrell's one masterrule. You could get away with anything if it was realistic, and inreal life, a soldier didn't just vanish when theirbroomstick got hit by a curse.
Neville was falling toward the ground and screaming "Chaoticlanding! " and the Chaotics were wrenching their attentionaway from fights to cast the Hover Charm (and run at the same timeso they wouldn't be sitting ducks), almost everyone else stoppingto gape -
And Neville Longbottom slammed into the leaf-laden forestground, landing on one knee, one foot, and both hands, as though hewere kneeling down to be knighted.
Everything stopped. Even Tracey and Susan paused in theirduel.
In the stadium, all crowd noises vanished.
There was a universal silence composed of astonishment, concern,and sheer dumbstruck gaping awe, as everyone waited to see whatwould happen next.
And then Neville Longbottom slowly rose to his feet, and leveledhis wand at the Sunshine Soldiers.
Though nobody on the battlefield heard it, a large segment ofthe stadium audience had begun chanting, in steadily rising noteseach time the word was uttered, "DOOM DOOM DOOM DOOM DOOM", becauseyou just couldn't see that and not think it requiredmusical accompaniment.
"The crowd is cheering your grandson," said Amelia Bones. Theold witch was favoring the screen with a measuring look.
"So they are," said Augusta Longbottom. "Some, if I hearcorrectly, are cheering, Our blood for Neville! Our souls forNeville! "
"Quite," said Amelia, taking a sip from a teacup which had notbeen there moments earlier. "It shows the lad has leadershippotential."
"These cheers," continued Augusta, her voice taking on an evenmore stunned quality, "seem to be coming from the Hufflepuffbenches."
"It is the House of the loyal, my dear," said Amelia.
"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore! What in Merlin'sname has been happening in this school? "
Lucius Malfoy was watching the screens with an ironic smile, hisfingers tapping at his armrest in no discernible pattern. "I do notknow what is more frightening, the thought that he has some hiddenplan behind all this, or the thought that he does not."
"Look!" cried the Lord of Greengrass. The dapper young man hadrisen half out of his chair, pointing his finger at the screen."There she goes!"
"We'll both take him at once," Daphne whispered. She knew that afew fear-filled minutes of real combat experience, a handful oftimes each week, might not be enough to match Neville's regulardueling practice with Harry and Cedric Diggory over the sameperiod. "He's too much for one of us, but both of us together -I'll use my Charm, you just try to stun him -"
Hannah, beside her, nodded, and then they both screamed at thetop of their lungs and charged forward, the Hover Charms of twosupporting Sunshine Soldiers moving them faster and making themlight on their feet, Daphne already crying "Tonare! " evenas Hannah kept a huge Contego shield moving in front ofthem, and with a brief extra lift they leapt over the heads of thefront screen of soldiers and landed in front of Neville with theirhair billowing high around them -
(Photographs were strictly prohibited at all Hogwarts games, butsomehow this moment still ended up on the front page ofthe next day's Quibbler.)
- and in the same instant, because fighting older bullies hadburned away the slightest traces of hesitation, Hannah fired herfirst Sleep Hex at Neville (she'd started the incantation while shewas still in the air) even as Daphne, concentrating more on speedthan on force, slashed down with her Ancient Blade at where shethought Neville's thighs would be after he dodged -
But Neville leapt up, not sideways, leapt up higher than heshould've been able to go, so that her glowing sword cut only theair beneath his feet. Somehow Daphne realized what it meant, thatNeville still had other Chaotics Hovering him, in time for her toraise her Blade up over her head, but Neville fell toofast and when his Blade smashed into hers it was like beinghit by a Bludger. It knocked Daphne off her feet and sent hersprawling backward onto the grass, hitting the ground hard on herback. It might have been all over for her, then, if Neville hadn'tlanded too hard himself and gone to his knees with a pained gasp.And then before Neville could bring his glowing Blade down, Hannahshouted "Somnium! " and Neville lurched franticallybackward - though of course no spell had actually come fromHannah's wand, the Hufflepuff girl couldn't really have fired againthat fast - which gave Daphne a second to scramble to her feet andget both hands around her wand again -
"Dear Merlin," said Lady Greengrass. Her voice seemed unsteady,the aristocratic poise well-punctured. "My daughter is fightingwith the Charm of the Most Ancient Blade. In her first year. Inever knew she possessed - such extraordinary talent -"
"Excellent blood," Charles Nott said approvingly, causingAugusta to snort.
"My good Lady," said Professor Quirrell, sounding grave. "Do notwrong your daughter so. That is not mere talent which you see." Hisvoice grew a little dryer. "Rather, it is what happens whenchildren put their competitive efforts into a game which involvesactual spellcasting."
"Expelliarmus! " shouted Draco, trying not to let hisvoice crack as he simultaneously dodged the blazing red stunboltthat Hermione Granger had fired at him, his muscles twisting withthe need to dodge in the wrong direction - she'd pointed to hisleft, and then with a mysterious twitch fired right -
Hermione dodged the fast-moving dueling hex, and cried withhardly another moment's pause, "Steleus! ", a wide-angleHex that Draco couldn't avoid, but he managed to point his wand athis own face and cry "Quiescus! " before the sudden urgeto inhale could devolve into a sneezing fit that would've ended thebattle.
Draco Malfoy was already half-exhausted from all the LockingCharms and Transfigurations earlier, but his confusion wasbeginning to give way to a sense of his own blood boiling, hedidn't know why Granger was attacking him so angrily all of asudden, but if she wanted a fight he'd give her one -
(The Dragons and Sunnies weren't stopping to watch the duel oftheir Generals, the Dragons were too disciplined to stop and watchand that meant the Sunnies had to go on fighting too; but thegaping audience in the Hogwarts Quidditch stands were beingdistracted even from Neville and Daphne's spectacle, shifting theireyes to the duel of two Generals as Malfoy and Granger fired hexafter hex and jinx after jinx at each other, casting more rapidlythan any other student in their year could have managed, the DragonGeneral's trained dueling dance matched by the Sunshine General'sfrantic energy, the combat between them beginning to resemble anadult duel as the two most magically powerful first-years resortedto spells more exotic than the usual Sleep Hex.)
- although, Draco was beginning to realize, when he and Harryand Professor Quirrell had dismissed Miss Granger as having as muchintent to kill as a bowl of wet grapes, they'd never seen herangry.
Daphne lashed out with her Ancient Blade, again not trying tohit hard but just moving the Blade as fast as possible, at the sametime Hannah cried "Somnium! " and Neville leapt backagain, but it had been another bluff and Hannah was moving in tofire a real spell almost point-blank -
- and Neville Longbottom did exactly what - he would explainafterward - Cedric Diggory had trained him to do if he was fightingBellatrix Black, which was to spin around and kick Hannahreally hard in the pit of her stomach.
The Hufflepuff girl made a sad little sound, a gasping cry ofpain, as she was knocked off her feet by the hard shoe sinking intoher abdomen with the force of Neville's whole body behind it.
For an instant the battlefield stood still, everything haltedexcept Hannah's falling form.
Then Neville's face turned to absolute dismay and he lowered hiswand, the Chaotic Lieutenant starting instinctively toward hisHouse-mate as he reached for her with his other hand -
Even as Hannah turned her fall into a roll and came out with herwand raised and shot him.
A fractional second later, Daphne, who hadn't hesitated either,sank her Most Ancient Blade squarely into Neville's back, causingthe Chaotic Lieutenant's muscles to jerk convulsively with thestunning magic discharging into him even as Hannah's Sleep Hex tookeffect, and then the last scion of Longbottom was sprawled still onthe ground with a look of total surprise frozen to his face.
"Today Mr. Longbottom has learned a valuable lesson about hisfeelings of pity and remorse," said Professor Quirrell.
"And chivalry," said Amelia, sipping her tea again.
"Are you all right?" whispered Daphne, as she stood protectivelyover where Hannah lay on the ground clutching her stomach. The girldidn't give anything back in reply except more retching sounds thatsounded like Hannah was trying not to throw up while trying not tocry.
Somehow, even though it might not have been good tactics - itwould've been better if Hannah had been hexed outright, than forother soldiers to be tied up protecting her - a number of Sunniesseemed to be standing in front of Hannah with their wands clutchedtightly, staring angrily at the Chaotics. Someone had thrown up aPrismatic barrier between the two groups, Daphne couldn't seewho.
And for some reason the Chaotics didn't seem to be pressing theattack. Even Tracey had completely dropped the grim look on herface and was shifting her weight nervously from one foot toanother, as though she was having trouble remembering which sideshe was on -
"Hold! " shouted a voice. "Hold battle! "
There wasn't much battle going on anyway, but it held.
General Potter, looking every inch the Boy-Who-Lived, strode outfrom the trees with something large and camouflage-cloth-coveredheld under one arm.
"Is Miss Abbott breathing all right?" General Potter yelled.
Daphne didn't look back. She didn't trust that this wasn't atrap - it was absolutely certain that if the Chaotics took theopportunity to attack, Professor Quirrell would not only rule itlegal but also award them extra points afterward. But Daphne couldhear the answer well enough with her ears, it wasn't like Hannahwas trying to breathe quietly, and so she said, "Sortof."
"She should get out of here and to someone who can use healingCharms," Harry said. "Just in case that broke something."
From behind Daphne, a small gasping voice said, "I - can - still- fight -"
"Miss Abbott, don't -" Harry said, just as there was the soundfrom behind Daphne of someone collapsing back to the grass aftertrying and failing to get to her feet. Everyone winced, but Daphnedidn't turn her back on Harry.
"Why haven't the teachers stopped the battle?" said Susan, hervoice angry.
"I expect it's because Miss Abbott is in no danger of permanentdamage and Professor Quirrell thinks we're learning valuablelessons," Harry said in a hard voice. "Look, Miss Abbott, if yougo, Tracey will also retire from the battle. You already outnumberus, so that's a very good deal for your side. Please take it."
"Hannah, just go!" said Daphne. "I mean, just say you'reout!"
When Daphne glanced back she saw that Hannah was shaking herhead, still curled up in a ball on the grass.
"Oh, screw this," said Harry. "Chaotics! The faster we stunthem, the faster she's out of here! We're going to do this veryquickly, even if we take casualties! End truce!TUNAFISH! "
Daphne's political hindbrain had only an instant to admire howHarry's few words had just made the Chaotics the goodguys, and then in almost perfect unison, the Chaotics were plungingtheir hands into the pockets of their uniforms and drawing outgreen sunglasses in an unfamiliar style. Not like anything youwould wear to the beach, more like goggles for advanced Potions-
Then Daphne realized what was about to happen and snapped up herother hand to shield her eyes, just as Harry ripped the cloth offthe cauldron.
The fluid that spilled forth as Harry Potter threw thecauldron's contents into the air was too bright to be seen, toobrilliant to be imagined, incandescent like the Sun magnified adozen times -
(which was exactly what it was)
(the sunlight which had been invested to create the acorns, thebright energy that had fueled a tree rising up from the baredirt)
(blazing a searing purple, the color of the mixed blue and redwavelengths that chlorophyll absorbed)
(with almost none of the green wavelengths that chlorophyllreflected to create the green color of leaves)
(which was the color of the Chaos Legion's sunglasses, made topass through green wavelengths, blocking red and blue, reducingeven the most incandescent purple glare to something bearable)
- the violet light blazed on and on, Daphne tried dropping herarm from her eyes but found that she couldn't look directly atanything, even the secondhand purple glare was so bright she had tosquint; and she had only time to cry one FiniteIncantatem, which didn't work, before a Sleep Hex tookher.
What was left of the battle didn't take very long afterthat.
"NOW!" bellowed Blaise Zabini, formerly of Sunshine, nowcommanding a detachment of Chaos Legionnaires. "I mean, TUNAFISH!"The Slytherin boy's hand grasped the cloth shielding the cauldronfrom the triggering touch of daylight, already beginning to move itaside.
"NOW!" bellowed Dean Thomas, formerly of Chaos, commanding aconsignment of Dragon Warriors. "DO WHATEVER THEY DO!"
The Chaotics of Zabini's detachment plunged their hands intotheir uniform pockets, and came forth bearing green sunglasses-
- an action almost perfectly mirrored by Dean and the DragonWarriors, who drew forth green-colored Potions goggles, and quicklydrew the straps over their own heads, even as the Chaotics put ontheir sunglasses and the violet incandescence blasted forth.
(As General Malfoy had explained, if Mr. Goyle reported that theChaos Legion was wearing green-colored Potions goggles, you didn'thave to know why to Transfigure some copies.)
"THAT'S CHEATING!" shrieked Blaise Zabini.
"THAT'S TECHNIQUE!" Dean yelled back. "DRAGONS, CHARGE!"
("Pardon me," the Lady Greengrass said. "Could you stop laughinglike that, Mr. Quirrell? It's unnerving.")
"FINITE THEIR GOGGLES!" shouted Blaise Zabini, as the two armiesran headlong toward each other through omnipresent eye-searingpurple glare. "WE CAN STILL WIN!"
"YOU HEARD HIM!" bellowed Dean. "GET THEIR GLASSES!"
Blaise Zabini's reply to this wasn't anything articulate.
That battle went on a lot longer.
"Stupefy! " shrieked the Sunshine General.
Draco didn't dodge, he didn't counter, he didn't have enoughenergy left for either, all he could do was whip his left hand intoposition and hope -
The red stunbolt dissipated again on Draco'sColloportused glove, which he'd Transfigured andspell-locked to his hand the same as the rest of Dragon Army. Itwas all that was saving him now, that shield.
It should have been a time to counterattack, but Draco couldonly catch his breath, as the two of them danced backward andforward beneath the trees in the never-ending movements of theirduel. Across from him, General Granger was panting hard, the younggirl's face glistening with sweat like dew, her chestnut hairwetted into brown plaits. Her camouflage uniform was stained withdamp spots, her shoulders visibly trembling with exhaustion, buther wand was still steel-steady where it stayed level on Dracothrough all their motion. Her eyes glaring, her cheeks flushed withrage.
So, little girl, why're you pretending to fight like agrownup today?
The taunt came to mind, but he didn't really think he neededGranger any angrier; so instead Draco just said - though he couldhear his own voice cracking - "Any reason you're feeling mad at me,Granger?"
The girl was gasping for breath herself, her own voice wobblingas she spoke. "I know what you're up to," said Hermione Granger,her voice rising. "I know what you and Snape are up to, Malfoy, andI know who's behind it!"
"Huh?" Draco said without even thinking about it.
That only seemed to increase Granger's fury, and her fingerswhitened on the wand she held leveled on him.
And then Draco got it, and it boiled his own blood in his veins.Even she thought he was secretly plotting against her-
"You too? " Draco yelled. "I helped you, youbucktoothed bint! You, you, you," - stuttering past all theDark curses that came to mind until he found something he couldactually cast at her - "DENSAUGEO! "
But Granger flashed and whirled around the Tooth-LengtheningHex, and then her own wand came around and leveled at almostpoint-blank range, even as Draco brought up his left hand like ashield, placing the magic-locked glove between himself and whatevershe was about to fire, and the Sunshine General's own voice rose toa shriek audible across the whole battleground -
"ALOhom*oRA! "
Time should have paused.
But it didn't.
Instead the padlock clicked and fell off the glove.
Just like that.
Just like that.
The screens showed it all very clearly, to the entire watchingHogwarts stadium.
And the bone-dead-silent hush that fell over every bench inevery bleacher said that everyone understood quite clearly what itmeant, that the scion of House Malfoy had just had his magicovercome by a Muggleborn.
Hermione Granger didn't pause in her fight, gave no sign thatshe even knew what she'd done; instead her foot snapped out in aMuggle-style kick that knocked Draco's wand cleanly out of hishand, his shocked mind and body moving just a little too slowly.Draco dove after his wand, scrabbling frantically on the ground,but from behind him a girl's cracking voice said"Somnium! " and Draco Malfoy fell and didn't riseagain.
There was another moment of frozen silence. The Sunshine Generalwas wobbling on her feet, looking like she might faint.
Then the Dragon Warriors screamed at the top of their lungs andcharged forward to avenge their fallen commander.
Mr. and Mrs. Davis were shaking as they stood up from thecomfortable chairs of the faculty Quidditch box; they couldn'tquite clutch each other while walking, but they held hands tightly,pretending hard to be invisible. If they'd been children youngenough for accidental magic they probably would've spontaneouslyDisillusioned themselves.
The elderly Charles Nott said nothing as he stood from hischair. The scarred Lord Jugson said nothing, as he stood from hisown chair.
Lucius Malfoy said nothing as he stood.
All three of them turned without pause and strode toward thestairwell of the elevated bleachers, moving in eerie unison like anAuror trio -
"Lord Malfoy," the Defense Professor said in mild tones. Thatman was still seated in his own chair, looking upon hisparchment-like screens, arms limp at his side, as though for somereason he didn't feel like moving.
The white-haired man halted just before reaching the exitarchway, and the elderly man and the scarred man halted as well,flanking him. Lord Malfoy's head turned, too slightly to be anyform of acknowledgement, but in the Defense Professor'sdirection.
"Your son performed exceptionally well today," said ProfessorQuirrell. "I must confess that I underestimated him. And he hasearned his army's loyalty, as you have witnessed." Still very mild,the Defense Professor's voice. "Speaking as your son's teacher, itis my opinion that he will not benefit if you interfere in his-"
Lord Malfoy and his compatriots vanished down the stairs.
"A fine try, Quirinus," Dumbledore said quietly. The oldwizard's face showed small lines of worry; he hadn't risen from hisown seat either, staring at the parchment screens as though theywere still active. "Do you think he will listen?"
The Defense Professor's shoulders twitched in a slight shrug,the only movement they'd shown since the battle ended.
"Well," said the Lady Greengrass, as she rose up andcracked her knuckles, stretching, her husband silent beside her. "Imust say, that was quite... interesting..."
Amelia Bones had risen from her own cushioned seat without anyfuss. "Interesting indeed," said Director Bones. "I do confess, Ifind myself disturbed by the skill with which those children werefighting one another."
"The skill?" Lord Greengrass said. "Their spells didn't seem allthat impressive to me. Except for Daphne's, of course."
The old witch did not move her eyes from where she was gazing atthe Defense Professor's balding head. "The Stunning Hex is not afirst-year spell, Lord Greengrass, but that is not the skill I hadin mind. They supported each other with those simple spells, theyreacted at speed to surprises..." The Director of the DMLE paused,as though searching for words that a mere civilian couldunderstand. "In the midst of battle," she said finally, "withspells flying in every direction... those children seemed quite athome."
"Indeed, Director Bones," said the Defense Professor. "Some artsare best begun in youth."
The old witch's eyes narrowed. "You are readying them to becomea military force, Professor. To what end?"
"Now hold on!" interjected Lord Greengrass. "There's plenty ofschools where they teach dueling in first year!"
"Dueling?" said the Defense Professor. From behind it wasn'tvisible if the pale face was smiling. "That is nothing, LordGreengrass, to what my students have learned. They have learned notto hesitate in the face of ambushes and greater foes. They havelearned to adapt when combat conditions change and change again.They have learned to protect their allies, to protect more thosewho are more valuable, to abandon pieces which cannot be rescued.They have learned that to survive they must follow orders. Somehave even learned a little creativity. Oh, no, Lord Greengrass,these wizards will not hide in their manors and wait to beprotected, when the next threat comes. They will know that theyknow how to fight."
Augusta Longbottom loudly clapped her hands together threetimes.
We won.
It was the first thing Draco heard when he woke up on thebattlefield, Padma telling him how his soldiers had rallied afterhe fell. How, thanks to the Dragon General's foresight, Mr. Thomashad led his detachment to victory over Chaos. How General Potterhad defeated the portion of the Sunshine Regiment that clashed withhim. How Mr. Thomas's Dragon Warriors had rejoined the main body ofsoldiers bearing both their own goggles and the sunglasses of thedefeated Chaotics. How, only moments later, General Potter'sremaining contingent had attacked both other armies with a potionthat emitted searing purple light. But Dragon had held thenumerical advantage over Sunshine and Chaos both, and enoughsunglasses for their warriors; and so Padma had managed to lead herinherited army to victory.
From the light in Padma's eyes and her arrogant smile that wouldhave done proud to a Malfoy, she was expecting congratulations.Draco managed to grit out some form of praise from between hisclenched teeth, and couldn't have said afterward what it was. Theforeign-born witch, it appeared, hadn't any idea what'd happened,or what it meant.
I lost.
The Dragons trudged back to Hogwarts beneath gray skies, colddroplets landing heavy on Draco's skin, one by one. While he'd beenstunned, it had begun, the long-promised rain finally beginning tofall. There was only one option left to Draco now. A forced move,as Mr. MacNair, who'd taught Draco chess, would have termed it.Harry Potter probably wouldn't like it, if he really was in lovewith Granger the way everyone said. But the forced move, as Mr.MacNair had defined it, was one you needed to make if you wantedthe game to continue at all.
It kept on playing in Draco's mind, over and over again, even ashe walked like an automaton through the massive portals ofHogwarts, sent away Vincent and Gregory with two sharp words, andbecame alone within his private bedroom, sitting on his bed,staring at the wall above his desk. Filling his mind like aDementor had locked him into the memory.
The padlock on his glove clicking and falling away -
Draco knew, he knew what he'd done wrong. He'd been sotired after casting twenty-seven Locking Charms for all the otherDragon Warriors. Less than a minute wasn't enough time to recoverafter each spell. And so he'd just castColloportus on his own padlocked glove, just castthe spell, not put in all his strength to bind it stronger thanHarry Potter or Hermione Granger could undo.
But nobody was going to believe that, even if it was true. Evenin Slytherin, nobody would believe that. It sounded like an excuse,and an excuse was all that anyone would hear.
Granger whirled and spun and screamed 'ALOhom*oRA!'-
Draco's mind kept playing it over and over as the resentmentbuilt. He'd helped Granger - cooperated with her on banningtraitors - held her hand as she'd dangled off the roof - stopped ariot from breaking out around her in the Great Hall - did she haveany idea what he'd risked, what he'd probably alreadylost, what it meant for the heir of House Malfoy to dothat for a mudblood -
And now there was only one move left, and the thing about aforced move was that you had to make it, even if it meantgetting detention and losing House points. Professor Snape wouldknow and understand, but there were limits (Father had warned him)to what the Potions Master would overlook.
Challenge Granger to a wizard's duel, in open defiance ofHogwarts regulations. Attack her outright, if she tried to refuse.Defeat her one-on-one, in public, not with clever duelingtechnique, but by overpowering her magic. Beat hersolidly, completely, crush her as utterly as the Dark Lord himselfhad crushed his enemies. Make it absolutely clear to everyone, sothat nobody could possibly doubt, that Draco had just beenexhausted from casting the spell so many times. Prove that theMalfoy blood was stronger than any mudblood's -
Only it's not, Harry Potter's voice whispered insideDraco's mind. It's easy to forget what's really true, Draco,once you start trying to win at politics. But in reality there'sonly one thing that makes you a wizard, remember?
Draco knew, then, he knew the reason for the disquiet in theback of his mind, as he stared at the blank wall above his deskcontemplating his forced move. It should've been simple - when youonly had one move, the thing to do was make it - but -
Granger whirling, spinning, sweat-dampened hair flyingaround her, bolts flying from her wand as fast as his own, jinx andcounter-jinx, glowing bats flying at his face, and through all ofit the look of fury in Granger's eyes -
There'd been a part of him admiring that, before it had all gonewrong, admiring Granger's fury and power; a part of him that hadexulted in the first real fight he'd ever been in, against...
...an equal opponent.
If he challenged Granger, and lost...
It ought not to be possible, Draco had gotten his wand two fullyears before anyone else in his Hogwarts class.
Only there was a reason why they usually didn't bother givingwands to nine-year-olds. Age counted too, it wasn't just how longyou'd held a wand. Granger's birthday had been only a few days intothe year, when Harry had bought her that pouch. That meant she wastwelve now, that she'd been twelve almost since the start ofHogwarts. And the truth was, Draco hadn't been practicing muchoutside of class, probably not nearly as much as Hermione Grangerof Ravenclaw. Draco hadn't thought he needed any more practice tostay ahead...
And Granger was exhausted too, whispered the Voice ofContrary Evidence inside him. Granger must have been exhausted fromall those Stunning Hexes, and even in that state she'd been able toundo his Locking Charm.
And Draco could not afford to challenge Grangerpublicly, one-on-one with no excuses, and lose.
Draco knew what you were supposed to do in this sort ofsituation. You were supposed to cheat. But if anyone discoveredDraco cheating, it would be disastrous, perfect blackmail materialeven if it never got out publicly, and any Slytherins watchingwould know that, they'd be looking...
And then, if you were watching, you would have seen Draco Malfoyget up from his bed, and go to his desk, and take out a sheet ofthe finest sheepskin parchment, and a pearl-carven inkwell, filledwith greenish-silver ink that had been made with true silver andcrushed emeralds. From the great trunk at his bed's foot, theSlytherin drew forth a book bound also in silver and emeralds,entitled The Etiquette of the Houses of Britain. And witha new, clean quill, Draco Malfoy began to write, frequently lookingto the book where it lay open as a reference. There was a grimsmile on the boy's face, making the young Malfoy look very muchlike his father, as he carefully drew each letter as though it werea separate artwork.
From Draco, son of Lucius son of Abraxis Lords of the Nobleand Most Ancient House of Malfoy, son also of Narcissa daughter ofDruella Lady of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, scionand heir of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Malfoy:
To Hermione, the first Granger:
(That form might have been meant to sound polite, long ago whenit had been invented; nowadays, after centuries of being used toaddress mudbloods, it carried a lovely tinge of refined venom.)
I, Draco, of Most Ancient House, demand redress,for
Draco paused, carefully moving the quill aside so that itwouldn't drip. He needed a pretext for this, at least if he wantedto impose the duel's conditions. The challenged had the choice ofterms unless they had insulted a Noble House. He needed tomake it look like Granger had insulted him...
What was he thinking? Granger had insulted him.
Draco flipped the book to the page of standard formulae, andfound one that seemed appropriate.
I, Draco, of Most Ancient House, demand redress, for that Ihave thrice over helped you and offered you only my goodwill, andin return you falsely accused me of plottingagainst you,
Draco had to stop and take a breath, forcing down the seethinganger; he was starting to genuinely feel the insult now, and he'djust written out the last phrase and underlined it withoutthinking, like it was an ordinary letter. After a moment'sreflection, he decided to let it stand; it might not be the exactformal phrasing but it had a raw, angry tone that seemedappropriate.
which insult you committed before the eyes ofBritain.
Thus I, Draco, compel you, Hermione, by custom, by law,by
"The seventeenth ruling of the thirty-first Wizengamot," Dracosaid aloud without looking, a line delivered in many plays; he satstraighter as he said it, feeling every pulse of the noble blood inhis veins.
Thus I, Draco, compel you, Hermione, by custom, by law, bythe 17th ruling of the 31st Wizengamot, to meet me in wizard's duelwith terms: That we each come alone and in silence, speaking tonone before or after,
If the duel went poorly, Draco could just say nothing and leaveit at that. And if he did defeat Granger, he would have learnedexperimentally that he could beat her again in a publicchallenge. It wasn't cheating, but it was Science, which was almostas good.
contesting by magic solely, without death or lastinginjury,
...where? Draco had been told about a room in Hogwarts that wasgood for duels, where everything valuable was already protected bywards, and there were no portraits to tattle on you... which onehad it been again...
in the trophy room of the Castle of the Hogwarts School ofWitchcraft and Wizardry,
And their second and public duel had better be soon, liketomorrow, it would take very little time for his reputation inSlytherin to go irretrievably to sludge. He needed to fight Grangerfor the first time tonight.
upon midnight's stroke that shall end this veryday.
Draco, of the Noble and Most Ancient House ofMalfoy.
Draco signed the formal parchment, and then drew forth hisordinary and lesser parchment, and his regular ink, for his postscriptum:
If you don't know how the rules work, Granger, here's how itis. You insulted a Most Ancient House, and I've got the lawfulright to challenge. And if you affront the conditions of the duel,like by having Flitwick show up at the trophy room, or even justtelling anyone else, my father will take you and your false honorstraight to the Wizengamot.
Draco Malfo
On the last letter his quill pressed down on the parchment soviciously that the nib snapped off, creating a streak of ink and asmall rip in the parchment, which Draco decided also lookedappropriate.
That night at dinnertime, Susan Bones came to Harry Potter andtold him that she thought Draco Malfoy was going to carry out hisplot against Hermione very soon. She was warning all the members ofS.P.H.E.W., and she'd warned Professor Sprout, and she'd warnedProfessor Flitwick, and she was going to send a letter to her Aunttonight, and now she was warning Harry Potter, too. Only theycouldn't quite talk about it with Padma - Susan said, looking veryserious - because Padma was feeling torn between her loyalty toHermione and her loyalty to her General.
Harry James Potter-Evans-Verres, who was at this point feelingmore frustrated with the entire situation than anything reallyproductive, snapped at her that yes, he knewsomething had to be done.
After Susan Bones left, Harry looked over at the other end ofthe Ravenclaw table, where Hermione had sat down away from him orPadma or Anthony or any of her other friends.
But Hermione didn't look like she was in a mood where somebodygoing over and bothering her would be taken very well.
Later, looking backward, Harry would think of how, in his SF andfantasy novels, people always made their big, important choices forbig, important reasons. Hari Seldon had created his Foundation torebuild the ashes of the Galactic Empire, not because he would lookmore important if he could be in charge of his own research group.Raistlin Majere had severed ties with his brother because he wantedto become a god, not because he was incompetent at personalrelationships and unwilling to ask for advice on how to do better.Frodo Baggins had taken the Ring because he was a hero who wantedto save Middle-Earth, not because it would've been too awkward notto. If anyone ever wrote a true history of the world - not thatanyone ever could or would - probably 97% of all the key moments ofFate would turn out to be constructed of lies and tissue paper andtrivial little thoughts that somebody could've just as easilythought differently.
Harry James Potter-Evans-Verres looked at Hermione Granger,where she'd sat down at the other end of the table, and felt asense of reluctance to bother her when she looked like she wasalready in a bad mood.
So then Harry thought that it probably made more sense to talkto Draco Malfoy first, just so that he could absolutely positivelydefinitely assure Hermione that Draco really wasn't plottingagainst her.
And later on after dinner, when Harry went down to the Slytherinbasem*nt and was told by Vincent that the boss ain't to bedisturbed... then Harry thought that maybe he should see ifHermione would talk to him right away. That he should just getstarted on unraveling the whole mess before it raveled any further.Harry wondered if he might just be procrastinating, if his mind hadjust found a clever excuse to put off somethingunenjoyable-but-necessary.
He actually thought that.
And then Harry James Potter-Evans-Verres decided that he'd justtalk to Draco Malfoy the next morning instead, after Sundaybreakfast, and then talk to Hermione.
Human beings did that sort of thing all the time.
It was Sunday morning, on the 5th of April, 1992, and thesimulated sky above the Great Hall of Hogwarts showed greattorrents of rain pouring down in such density that the lightningflashes were diminished and scattered into small pulses of whitelight that sometimes transformed the House tables, paling theirfaces and making all the students appear briefly to be ghosts.
Harry sat at the Ravenclaw table, wearily eating a waffle,waiting for Draco to make an appearance so that he could getstarted on sorting this whole thing out. There was aQuibbler being passed around which had somehow ended upwith Hannah and Daphne on the front page, but it hadn't gotten tohis place yet.
A few minutes later Harry finished eating his waffle, and thenlooked around again to see if Draco had arrived yet for breakfastat the Slytherin table.
It was odd.
Draco Malfoy was almost never late.
Since Harry was looking in the direction of the Slytherin table,he didn't see Hermione Granger entering through the huge doors ofthe Great Hall. Thus he was rather startled when he turned back anddiscovered Hermione sitting down directly beside him at theRavenclaw table, just as if she hadn't not-done that for more thana week.
"Hi, Harry," Hermione said, her voice sounding almost exactlynormal. She started to put toast on her plate and a selection ofhealthy fruits and vegetables. "How are you?"
"Within one standard deviation of my own peculiar littleaverage," Harry automatically replied. "How are you doing? Did yousleep okay?"
There were dark bags under Hermione Granger's eyes.
"Why, yes, I'm fine," said Hermione Granger.
"Um," Harry said. He took a slice of pie onto his plate (as hisbrain was occupied with other things, Harry's hand simply took thetastiest thing within range, without evaluating complex conceptslike whether he was ready to eat dessert). "Um, Hermione, I'm goingto need to talk to you later today, is that okay?"
"Sure," said Hermione. "Why wouldn't it be?"
"Because -" Harry said. "I mean - you and I haven't - for thelast few days -"
Shut up, suggested an internal part of Harry thatseemed to have been recently allocated for governingHermione-related issues.
Hermione Granger didn't look like she was paying much attentionto him in any case. She just stared down at her plate, and then,after about ten seconds of awkward silence, began to eat her tomatoslices, one after another, without pause.
Harry looked away from her and began to eat a slice of piewhich, he discovered, had somehow materialized on his plate.
"So!" Hermione Granger suddenly said after she'd polished offmost of her plate in silence. "Anything happening today?"
"Um..." Harry said. He looked around frantically, as though tofind something-happening that he could use as conversationalfodder.
And so Harry was one of the first to see it, and wordlesslypoint, although the sudden swell of whispers that swept through theGreat Hall showed that a number of other people had seen ittoo.
The distinctive crimson tinge of the robes would have beenrecognizable anywhere, but it still took Harry's brain a fewmoments to place the faces. An Asianish-looking man, solemn, andtoday looking rather grim. A man with a piercing gaze that sweptover the room, his long black hair waving behind him in a ponytail.A man thin and pale and unshaven, with a face so blank that it waslike stone. It took Harry a few moment to place the faces, andremember the names, from that long-ago day in January when theDementor had come to Hogwarts: Komodo, Butnaru,Goryanof.
"An Auror trio?" Hermione said in a strange bright voice. "Why,I wonder what they'd be doing here."
Dumbledore was in their company as well, looking as worried asHarry had ever seen him; and after a moment's pause while the oldwizard's eyes scanned the Great Hall and the students whisperingover their breakfasts, he pointed -
- straight at Harry.
"Oh, now what," Harry said under his breath. His inward thoughtswere a lot more panicked than that, as he wondered frantically ifanyone had connected him to the Azkaban breakout somehow. He lookedat the Head Table, trying to make the glance casual, and realizedthat Professor Quirrell was nowhere to be seen, this morning -
The Aurors swept toward him with swift strides, Auror Goryanofapproaching from the other side of the Ravenclaw table as though toblock any escape in that direction, Auror Komodo and Auror Butnaruapproaching from Harry's side, the Headmaster following straight onKomodo's heels.
All conversation everywhere had ground to utter silence.
The Aurors reached Harry's place at the table, surrounding himfrom three angles.
"Yes?" Harry said, as normally as he could. "What is it?"
"Hermione Granger," Auror Komodo said in a toneless voice, "youare under arrest for the attempted murder of Draco Malfoy."
