October 30, 1996
Hogwarts, Scotland
Harry slammed his potions book shut. He was tired of Hermione quietly huffing at him. “If you want to read it, all you have to do is ask,” he snipped at her.
“Harry, it’s not your work!” Hermione exclaimed. She had been getting increasingly upset with him as he kept doing better than her in potions. He would easily admit that the first few classes he had used the book, but since then, in an attempt to get her off his back about it, he had actually spent time in the library and checked many of the Prince’s notes. The latest essay had been written by him, and actually refuted two instructions the Prince had on the everlasting elixirs.
“It is my work! Here,” he yelled, throwing the book down and his essay. “I hope you choke on it!”
Hermione looked shocked. As did many around the room. Ron had looked up from his chess game. “Oi, mate. You alright?”
“Just peachy,” Harry snapped.
“Harry, I didn’t mean…” Hermione said.
“I don’t care what you meant. For once I’ve actually been revising. I check the changes to the instructions and ingredients of the bleeding potions because you think they are dangerous. Just because someone is doing better than you, Hermione, it doesn’t mean that I’m cheating,” he yelled at her. Murmurs started to go around the room.
Tears were showing in her eyes. “Harry…”
He huffed, grabbed his bag, the herbology essay he was working on and stormed off towards his dorm. His hair was sticking out more than normal. His temper had been on a short leash all year. Between losing Sirius, the war heating up while Dumbledore was giving him ‘lessons’ on Riddle instead of training him to survive, and Hermione continually harping on him for using the Half-Blood Prince’s book, he felt close to bursting.
Once in his room, he threw his bag on his bed as hard as he could. It hit the bed, bounced off, then he could hear its contents scattering everywhere. “Bloody Merlin’s balls!”
He kicked his trunk, then swore as pain spiked up his big toe.
“Are you alright, Harry?” a voice asked from across the room.
He hadn’t known anyone was in the room. He twirled around, grabbing his wand from his pocket and levelling it on a blonde boy that had been lazily sitting in his bed with a book open and his hair still wet from a shower.
Harry let out a huff. “Sorry, Nev,” Harry apologized, lowering his wand. “I’ll clean up the mess and get out of here. It’s your night for quiet.”
“Sa’ll right, Harry. I was only going through a new herbology book. Need to talk?” Neville asked, closing the thick tome.
Harry let out a long breath. “Not really,” he replied as he rubbed the back of his neck.
“Well, if you do…” Neville offered.
He gave his dormmate a small smile. “Thanks. I’ll be alright.”
“I hope so. If anyone deserves to have a better time, it’s you,” Neville told him.
Harry snorted. “Yeah, like I could ever have a good time?” he muttered as he moved to pick up the stuff that had scattered across the floor. Taking his bag, he set aside the parchments and notes that he didn’t need, since they were taking up room. He rolled his eyes to see that his defence book had been ripped down the spine. Palming his wand, he swiped it, not registering that he had silently repaired it. It was a skill that eluded him every time he was in the greasy gits class. He didn’t think that it was calming technique and concentration method that he had taken from the Half-Blood Prince’s book to do so.
Reaching for a balled up sock, he was trying to figure out why that would have been in his bad when he felt a small vial in it. Not remembering what he had put into the sock, he unrolled it and upended it to have a small vial of swirling golden potion fall into his hand.
Harry blinked at it.
He had forgotten that he had taken it out of his trunk, unsure if he should use it on Ron for the upcoming game on Saturday or not. As he looked at it, Neville’s words echoing through his head, followed by Slughorn’s ‘One perfect day in a bottle. If you take it when you wake up, everything will go your way until you go to bed.”
Clutching the bottle, perhaps Neville was right? Maybe he did deserve a better time…
Slughorn had said he had done it twice, and by the look on his face, the man had had the best time.
Harry looked at the calendar on the wall between his and Ron’s bed. Tomorrow was Thursday. He didn’t have any NEWT level classes. It was also October 31st. Could he finally have one lucky day on the day that had always been the worst?
He opened his palm once more to look at the golden potion.
Making a decision, he decided to see if he could finally break his bad luck and perhaps have a good Halloween? Wrapping the vial in the sock, he stuffed it in his pocket instead of his bag…
-oOo-
October 31, 1996
Hogwarts, Scotland
Harry’s alarm began to ring at six-fifteen.
“Shut it off!” Seamus yelled at him.
Harry rolled over to shut off his alarm clock. He had been getting up to work out every morning, much to the chagrin of most of his dormmates, who usually got up to wander down closer to eight, then would rush to eat before the first bell at twenty-past eight. Neville was the only other one that got up early like him. His early morning workout was a holdover from his first quidditch captain who had always said a healthy body was a winning body. He didn’t force his team mates to join him, but most did.
Reaching under his pillow for his wand, his hand came across the balled up sock. Remembering his resolve from last night, he took his wand and the sock out. Dropping the potion onto his hand, he debated for a moment if he should drink it all or not.
Halloween was always a dreadful day.
Hoping to break the cycle, he unstoppered the vial, then upended the whole thing.
At first, he didn’t feel any different. He didn’t feel lucky.
After a moment, he snorted. “Just my luck. It doesn’t work.”
Resigned that it would be a normal day, he got up. Got dressed. Instead of grabbing his bag, like he would normally do to spend his mornings in the library on Thursdays, he opened his trunk, took the Marauder’s map out, stuffed his invisibility cloak into the expanded pocket on his school trousers, put his money pouch and Muggle wallet into his other pocket and left his robes on top of everything else.
He would never understand why he did all that. It wasn’t his normal routine.
Closing the lid, he turned to see Neville stretching as he yawned. “Morning, Harry.”
Harry grinned. “Morning, Nev.”
Neville stopped. Eyeing Harry for a moment, he asked, “You alright?”
“Feeling really good, actually,” Harry told him. “I’m heading out now.”
“Sure. See you in the dining hall,” Neville told him.
Harry just gave him a jaunty salute as he got up. For some reason, the day was feeling really bright, and he didn’t think it had anything to do with the approaching sun.
Walking out of his room, the common room was just about empty. Hermione didn’t usually come down until quarter after seven. Only two seventh years, who had already been stressing about NEWTs later this year, were at tables with books and notes scattered across them.
Smiling at them, he went out of the portrait hole.
He looked down, the normal way he would go. His feet took him right. Climbing to the next floor, he briskly walked towards the stairs to the seventh floor. He didn’t know why, but there was something about a Riddle that felt needed to be solved. Perhaps Dumbledore’s lessons weren’t as stupid as he had thought?
Making his way to the painting of Barnabus the Barmy, he noticed the trolls were sleeping in a pile as the dancing instructor carefully tip toed around them. “Morning Barnabus,” Harry said a little loudly.
“What are you doing…” The man whispered yelled at him, then went white as one of the trolls woke with a bellow. “Bloody hell!” the wizard exclaimed as he started to run towards the edge of the painting.
Harry grinned. “Poor bloke finally realized you can’t train trolls to dance,” Harry commented while shaking his head.
Looking at the blank wall across from the painting, Harry started to walk back and forth while thinking, ‘I have a Riddle to solve.’
For some reason, it was important to capitalize ‘Riddle’.
When the door to the Room of Lost Things appeared, he didn’t question it.
Entering the room, he began to aimlessly wander the aisles, looking for something that could help him understand why Dumbledore was so intent he learned about Riddle’s background.
It wasn’t long before he stopped before a tall cabinet of dark wood. co*cking his head, he looked at it. The area around it had been cleared. There was an old desk with a few books, parchments and quills spread around it. He could see equations and runes on the parchments.
co*cking his head the other way, he felt like he was on the verge of understanding the rune work, even though he had never studied it, when a gem on a tiara gleamed in the first light of day as the sun entered through a window in the room.
He grinned.
“Well, aren’t you a pretty thing?” he asked as though the tiara would answer.
Looking at the cabinet, then the tiara, he had the sudden inspiration that that the tiara would be able to resolve the puzzle that was before him. He gathered up the parchments and books, stacked them nicely inside the cabinet, put the odd feeling tiara on the top of the pile, then closed the door. As he did, he noticed a ring of runes around the old-fashioned latch.
Something about it just screamed at him that it wanted magic.
Grinning, he took his wand out, then stood there for a moment, not totally sure what to do.
“What had Hermione said…?” he muttered. “Something about to power a rune scheme, you have to touch the power sequence…”
He leaned over, looking at the runes. He was finding that he wished he had taken the class. “I will have to start studying. I wonder if I could do an OWL in Runes next year… ah ha!”
Harry felt a jolt of joy go through him. There was a rune that looked like his scar. It was a lightning bolt in the centre of a chain of runes. Just knowing this was it, he touched his wand to the runes and just pushed his magic into his wand. The rune lit up, then the whole sequence of runes. It was a soft blue glow, that slowly grew brighter as he pushed more magic into it. The cabinet just accepted it, so he thought he was doing the right thing.
When the runes started to glow bright enough, he had to squint, he stopped.
The runes glowed for a long moment, before fading. As they did, he felt a twinge in his forehead.
Rubbing it, it twinged again.
“That is sore,” he commented.
The dulling runes suddenly flared. Harry had to shield his eyes. His scar suddenly started to burn. He cried out in pain as he stumbled back. Hitting a pile of rubbish, he stumbled over as it felt like a red-hot spike was being driven through his scar. When his head hit the floor, he blacked out…
-oOo-
On the toll of the bell…
Hogwarts, Scotland
Groaning, Harry sat up. The clock bell was chiming the quarter hour. He wasn’t sure exactly what time it was, but the sun was still relatively low in the sky and streaming into the room, so he mustn’t have been out long.
Something warm and sticky was on his face. Putting his hand to his forehead, he realized that he must have hit his head when he tripped over the rubbish. Looking around, he found an old shirt. After cleaning off his face, he found that his scar didn’t really hurt. He should probably get it checked out though.
Holding a torn bit of the shirt to his forehead, he found his way out of the room and to the hospital wing. Upon entering the room, he saw Madam Pomfrey at a bed that had a girl sitting on it.
The matron looked up, caught the bloody rag held to his head and in a resigned voice said, “Sit on that bed. I’ll be too you shortly, Potter.”
“Yes, Madam Pomfrey,” he replied, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.
“Now, Miss Davis, how did you do this again?”
Harry looked over to the girl. She was holding her hand, her light blonde hair a cute mess of curls that dropped a few inches below her shoulder. Her nose and cheeks were a naturally rosy colour with a light spattering of freckles. Her brown eyes and neutral expression gave the look of someone that was indifferent to life.
He had seen her before, usually with another blonde that wore the same green and silver tie. Her robes were on the bed. Most thought Daphne Greengrass was the true beauty of the school, but she was frigid as all hell and known to be dating Blaise Zabini. Her constant companion, Tracey Davis, was the one Harry had always liked more. She didn’t look the spoiled pureblood brat that Greengrass came off as. Something about Tracey Davis had always struck him as someone just trying to make it through her seven years in the hell known as Hogwarts and Slytherin.
When she spoke, he found himself leaning towards her. “One of the boys tried to get fresh with me. When he didn’t leave me alone, I let him know I really wasn’t interested.”
Harry snigg*red, earning a look from both woman. Harry held up a hand. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to overhear.”
A single brown brow lifted. “You find that amusing?”
Harry gave her a lopsided grin. “Yes, actually. Tell me it was Malfoy.”
He thought he caught the very tip of the left of her mouth twerk up before she took on her indifferent expression again. “Goyle, if you must know.”
“Oh, dear. I expect I will see him soon,” Madam Pomfrey said, running her wand over Davis’s hand. Harry could see the two swollen knuckles on her right hand.
“I suppose. Once he wakes up,” Davis replied in a flat tone.
Harry chuckled, earning him another slight uptick to the corner of her mouth for a fleeting moment.
Pomfrey shook her head, but Harry felt that she was slightly amused as well. “Lucky for you, broken knuckles are easier to heal than curse damage. This might hurt just a bit…”
Davis took in a sharp breath, her mask breaking for a moment to show pain, then she breathed a little heavily. “Thank you, Madam Pomfrey.”
“Anytime, dear. Let me get you a potion for the swelling and you can go in about an hour,” she told Davis. With a flick of her wand, a small vial with a blue potion came out of the cabinets in her office. After handing it to Davis, she turned to Harry. “Now, why are you hear, Potter? Why didn’t you tell me you were bleeding!”
Harry shrugged. “I’m fine. Davis was here before me.”
The woman ‘tsked’ while Davis looked at him, a spark of curiosity in her light brown eyes.
“Really! I swear that you would be dying and still tell me you are fine. Let me get a look,” she fussed over him. He caught the same uptick to Davis’s mouth as the matron chided him for not telling her he had fallen on his head. He grinned at her.
“How did you split your scar open?”
“Fell over some rubbish,” Harry told her.
She shook her head as her wand moved in a figure eight pattern. “It looks like you fell onto some rubbish. This was split wide open. Luckily, it’s a clean cut. I can’t help it, but this will hurt to close it up.”
Harry shrugged. All he did was take in a slightly sharp breath. The feel of his flesh and skin knitting back together wasn’t pleasant, but he had had far worse pain before. Davis’s interest seemed to peak as her normally cool eyes regarded him with far more interest.
“That should be it. Go wash off in the water closet. I’ll get you a clean shirt,” she told him. “Do you need a pain relief potion?”
“I’m good,” he told her.
“Right,” she said, not believing he was. She flashed a brief look towards Davis as though chiding him for showing off before a pretty girl. Harry wagged his brows at Davis. She looked slightly amused, then quickly looked bored again. “At the least take some bruise cream.”
When he got out of the bathroom, a new button down shirt was on his bed. Not feeling self-conscious, he undid his shirt, then shucked it off. He missed Davis’s eyes widening as he turned his back to her. Even though he had a few scars from his adventures while at Hogwarts, they were not as eye catching as the muscles he had been developing over the last few years from quidditch, workouts and practices. He knew he wasn’t the tallest, but apparently, he was becoming one of the best looking boys in the school.
He was just doing up the last button and tucking the shirt into his trousers when he turned. She quickly adverted her eyes. He didn’t miss that her cheeks were a little brighter than before. Picking up his tie, he slipped it over his neck, not bothering to tighten it.
“Here you are, Potter. Put some on after lunch and before bed, then twice a day after that. The bruise should be gone in two or three days,” she instructed, handing him a small jar. “Davis, the same instructions.”
“Does that mean I can go?” Davis enquired.
“I want you to rest a little more. If you injure your hand again before the potion reduces all the swelling, you will have to wait for it to naturally go down,” the matron told her.
“I can make sure she doesn’t hurt herself,” Harry offered. He knew that most would never care for him being seen with a Slytherin, but did it really matter? They would be out of school in a little under two years and then who would remember?
“I don’t think it was me hurting myself,” Davis cooly replied.
“Well, it was you that punched the thick skull of a troll,” Harry snarked back.
She let out a single snort of amusem*nt. “Felt like one. How do I know you won’t get handsy?”
“Not unless you ask me too,” Harry replied.
“If you are going to flirt, get out of here. If Davis gets hurt, I’m going to be looking for you, Potter,” Madam Pomfrey told him, though she didn’t look as stern as usual.
“I give my word I will do my best,” he said.
“If I hurt myself on you, Potter, you are carrying my books until my hand is healed,” Davis threatened.
“If you want,” he offered.
Her right brow rose. “You like living dangerously, don’t you? You do know what will probably happen to us if we are seen together?”
Harry shrugged. “No different than any other day of my life.”
Madam Pomfrey retreated into her office. Harry walked over to Davis, holding a hand out to her. “I promise you that I will do everything I can to keep you from hurting yourself.”
“That’s getting handsy, Potter,” Davis said, though that small quirk to the side of her mouth said she didn’t mind.
“I’ll leave you be, if you want,” Harry said, hoping just the opposite.
After a moment, she reached out her left hand. Harry pulled her to her feet. “Do you want to be seen?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you want to be seen?”
She gave him an inscrutable look, her smaller hand still in his. It had callouses, which he found interesting since most of the Slytherin girls acted like prisses. After a moment, she said, “I meant it about you being handsy. Now, what are you thinking?”
“That I don’t want to be here today,” he told her.
She looked slightly surprised for an instant. “You don’t just mean the hospital wing, do you?”
Harry winked at her. “I was always told Slytherins were quick.”
Her bored look dropped. “And where do you want to be?”
“Well, I need some galleons, so Gringotts first, then wherever the day takes us,” Harry told her.
Her light brown eyes gazed into his. It was like she was looking for something. He wasn’t sure if she found what she was looking for, but after a moment she gave a slight nod. “To tell you the truth, anywhere but here would be good today.”
He had a feeling that she also wanted to avoid Goyle, and most likely Malfoy, after what she had done.
“Brilliant,” he said. He let go of her hand to reach for the Marauder’s’ map.
“What is that?” Davis enquired.
He held up the parchment as she moved to his side. “I solemnly swear that I am getting up to no good,” he said in response.
She let out a huff of amusem*nt before taking in a sharp breath. Across the parchment words scrawled themselves.
The Marauders present the Marauders’ map for those that mean to get up to no good and mischief.
Prongs is incredibly pleased that Bambi is getting up to no good.
Moony hopes Bambi will finally prank the greasy git that insulted us.
Wormtail wants to see Bambi sneak around more.
Padfoot will point Bambi to the best broom closet for the hot blonde with him…
Harry quickly opened the map.
“Do you need another warning, Potter?” she asked, a slight bit of amusem*nt on her voice.
“Only if you want me too,” he shot back good naturedly, though he knew he had no genuine experience. Flipping through the folds, he was quickly scanning the castle to see what was in the way to get to the nearest secret passage out of the school.
She leaned in, her shoulder brushing against his. “What is this?”
“A map of the school.”
She rolled her eyes. “I can see that, but… is that us?”
He had just unfolded the map to the hospital wing. “Yeppa,” he said, popping the ‘p’.
Her eyes scanned across the map. “Are you telling me that you have a map that shows you where everyone is in Hogwarts?”
“Well, you said it, but yeah,” he said back.
“Droll,” she cooly replied. “How did you make this?”
“No clue. My father and his friends figured it out. Maybe there is a book in my vaults that could tell us,” Harry said. He flipped through the map a few more times, then closed it.
“Hey! I was looking at that,” Davis whinged.
“You can look at it more later. If we are going to go, we need to go now. The bell for the next period will ring in about ten minutes and it will take most of that time to make it to the third floor,” he told her.
“Wait, your serious about leaving Hogwarts?” Davis sounded surprised.
“Well, that was my godfather, but yeah. Mischief managed.” The words that were still writing on the cover to encourage him to take her somewhere to snog faded away. “Are you coming or not?” Harry put the map back into his pocket, only to pull out a silky smooth, blue cloak with silvery runes.
She was indecisive for only a moment. “You did promise Madam Pomfrey to keep me safe, and that is hard to do if you are not around me.”
“It would be hard,” Harry agreed.
“So, how are you going to keep me safe?”
“Well, you have to move in closer and wrap your arms around my waist,” Harry told her.
Her curious expression turned back to indifferent. “You know, I really thought you might be different from other boys.”
“I will not get handsy, Davis. My invisibility cloak isn’t really big enough for the both of us if you don’t get close,” he told her.
There were a few heartbeats of silence. Then she snorted in amusem*nt. “Who knew that a Gryffindor could actually make sense?”
He laughed. “Who knew…?”
She moved in, wrapping her arms around his waist. She was just the right height that his lips were level with her forehead. He avoided the sudden urge to put his lips to her skin. She had a slight floral scent that tickled his nose in a pleasant way.
“I will not wait all day, Potter,” she said into his chest.
“Oh, right,” he said, pulling the cloak over them.
-o-
Madam Pomfrey had been watching them from her desk, enjoying the way Davis was trying not to act interested in Potter, and Potter finally turning on that legendary Potter charm. When they disappeared under the cloak that had gotten his father into so much trouble, she smiled to herself.
If Potter wanted to go on a lark with a pretty girl, she wasn’t going to stop him. He had enough bad luck without her adding to it. And how much trouble could they get in to if they only snuck off to Hogsmeade for the day?
Besides, if Potter picked up a girlfriend, she would finally win her bet with Minerva and Pomona.
-oOo-
A little bit later….
London, England
“I always love these carts!” Harry exclaimed as they sped through the caverns under the city of London. The goblin driving the cart looked back at Harry, unsure what to think of the wizard. The witch was easier to understand as she looked slightly green as he pushed the cart to its limits.
Tracey’s hand was white as she grabbed Harry’s hand. She didn’t dare open her mouth, otherwise she might lose her breakfast. As they went lower, the roar of something large and dangerous could be heard over the squeal of the wheels and rattling of the cart on the rails.
She had heard from other Muggleborn that the carts were like rollercoasters.
They had been wrong!
This was far worse.
Not that she had enjoyed the time or two she had gone on them when on holidays with her family, but this was so much worse.
Potter whooped as they went down a large drop. She clamped her mouth tight.
When the cart came to a stop, she was more than pleased to stumbled off it and come to rest against a rough-hewn wall. “Davis, you alright?” Potter enquired.
She waved him off, still afraid to open her mouth.
“Stay close. The dragons will attack,” the goblin told them.
Her eyes just about bugged out of her head. Her normal composure had been shredded on the way down and realizing that were going to be close enough to a real dragon that they could be attacked was scaring her. The only other time she had been close to dragons were two years ago when Potter out flew one.
He put a hand on her shoulder. “I promised I wouldn’t let you get hurt. Do you trust me?”
“Hurry, wizards. It is close to feeding time and I will not be around,” the goblin told them.
She swallowed her fear, trying to adopt her normal indifferent look. It was a mask that Daphne had taught her to take on. It was a way to protect them while in Slytherin. She had wanted to go to Ravenclaw once she had found out about Hogwarts, but then she had met Daphne on the train and ended up in Slytherin. A Muggleborn in Slytherin should have been a death sentence, except somehow the true princess of the dungeons had adopted her as her good deed and had taught Tracey how to survive.
It had helped that Professor Flitwick had shown her a few etiquette and history books that had allowed her to blend in enough to not be singled out before Daphne had drilled into her how to really act.
It had been her mother that had taught her how to handle boys that she didn’t want touching her. There were many disgusting little prats in Slytherin that didn’t understand ‘no’ or were far more forward than was right in proper society. Where Daphne preferred to literally freeze their balls, she fell back to her Muggle roots and the martial arts classes she had taken since a small girl.
“If I die, I swear I’ll kill you,” she threatened, though it held none of the normal heat it would have.
“I’ll let you push me first,” he said.
MERLIN BLASTED! What the hell was up with this suddenly smooth, confident and annoyingly smirking Potter! He was bringing out a side of her that she fought so hard to bury, or the Purebloods in Slytherin would go after her. “I won’t hesitate,” she told him.
He lowered his hand, palm up, to offer it to her. “I’m not getting handsy.”
She rolled her eyes.
Something started to jangle down the passageway. There were distraught roars and growls. They walked down to see the goblin shaking a large iron tool that had several bells and clappers that were making a right racket.
On the far side of a large circular room, a pale dragon that must have been fifty feet long, snout to tail tip, was cowering away. The goblin indicated them towards a large vault door with the name ‘BLACK’ on it.
Harry looked at the others and frowned before moving off towards the one the goblin pointed them towards. The goblin continued to shake the noisy thing until they walked up to the door. Harry put the key that he had gotten from the account manager into the door, then it silently swung open.
She was still trying to get over the fact that Potter’s godfather was Sirius Black and that he had inherited everything from the man, which obviously included this vault. He had been told he couldn’t get into the Potter vault, but he could get into this one.
She had never been down into the vaults before, so feigned interest when he asked her to join him, when in reality, all she wanted was to see this. After the cart ride, she knew it would be the only time she would ever willingly come into the caverns.
The dragon made a feeble attempt at a roar. She turned to look at it. It was trying to hide its face under its wings. The clankers were still going off. “Hurry, wizard,” the goblin stated.
She turned back to Potter. He was standing just inside the vault door. Looking in, she couldn’t blame him. There were chests, piles and shelves full of jewels, galleons, sickles, knuts, jewellery, books and other heirlooms. There was more wealth here than she could have ever dreamed of.
The goblin’s warning got Potter moving. She moved into the vault after him.
“Don’t touch anything. Sirius told me that the Black’s would often curse things so that those that weren’t supposed to take something wouldn’t live to enjoy it,” Harry warned her.
She had been looking at a silver necklace with a pretty flower with emerald leaves.
Her hand was quickly pulled back. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Told you I would keep you safe,” he commented.
“Yet you bring me down to a dragon at feeding time?” she cooly shot back.
“Well, you aren’t on the menu, so still keeping you safe.”
She let out a small breath of amusem*nt.
After filling a small pouch with coins, he came back over to her.
“Ready to go?”
“We are only here because of you, Potter” she said back.
“Oh, right.” He rubbed the back of his neck.
Tracey had the urge to run her hands through his messy hair. She was still thinking of what he looked like without a shirt earlier…
“It’s Harry, by the way.”
She couldn’t run her hands through his hair. Potter was the Gryffindor Golden Boy. If she started to see Potter, then she would be lucky to still be alive by next week.
“You can call me Tracey,” she told him, instantly cursing herself. She couldn’t be that familiar.
The blasted smile he gave her had her knees feeling weak. She clung hard to her indifferent mask.
Walking out of the vault, she noticed another door open down the way. From where they were, she couldn’t see the name on the vault. Potter frowned though. “We need to get out of here,” he told her. The Black’s vault door closed on its own once they were clear of the door.
“Finally, the wizard has some sense,” the goblin snidely remarked. He followed them up, still keeping the clanker going.
“What about the other vault?” she asked, not seeing another goblin to keep the dragon at bay.
“They are being helped by others,” the goblin told them.
“We should get out of here,” Harry told her, taking her hand and pulling her towards the cart.
Going back to the cart, they didn’t see the feet of the goblin that had been shoved into a shadowed crag in the tunnel.
-o-
“Bella, we shouldn’t leave any witnesses,” Rudolphus told his wife.
“We’ll kill them when we leave. Will you stop that infernal racket,” she ordered. The clanging of the goblin toy was getting annoying.
“What of the dragon?”
She huffed as she looked at the prize her master had ordered her to get. “It won’t bother us in here.”
“If you say so,” Rudolphus responded, then threw the clanker into a pile of knickknacks. It made an even louder racket before everything settled.
“That is your families,” Bella commented. She had stepped up to the shelf that held the cup with a badger on it.
“That was all the stuff my mother liked to collect. Once we can come back out into the open, I’ll sell it all off.”
“Soon. The master is getting ready. Once Dumbledore is out of the way, nothing will stop him,” she told her husband.
“What about Potter?”
She snorted as her wand wove a complicated pattern of spells to dispel the curses she had put on the cup to prevent it from being removed. “Potter couldn’t even pull off a Cruciatus curse. He is too weak. He will fall under the Dark Lords boot soon enough.”
Rudolphus didn’t look convinced. He wanted Potter dead and couldn’t understand how a mere boy could stand up to their master?
Bella was having to concentrate harder to break the gemino charm linked to the burning curse, so didn’t notice that Rudolphus had turned at the sound of scuffling and clinking. His wand came up as a large white, scaled head dipped down to the door.
His eyes widened.
“Bella, are you sure that the dragon can’t get us in the vault?” he asked as the large pink orbs came to hungrily rest on his form.
“It’s part of the protections,” she absently replied.
The head moved closer, its jaws opening and fire dripping from its maw.
He was hoping those wards stones they had destroyed to sneak in here weren’t part of the protections. The dragon took in a long breath.
“Got it,” Bella exclaimed. She reached up to take the cup.
“Avada Ked…” Rudolphus cried out.
Few knew that the dragons under Gringotts had been bred to have fire hot enough to use in their furnaces and smelters. It wasn’t fiendfyre, but it was close. The albino horntail that guarded these deep vaults had not yet been fed that week, its handler lying dead in a crag in the wall of the tunnel. All it knew was that food was nearby and it didn’t mind it crispy.
The screaming black mist that flew out of the vault was missed by Davis and Potter as they sped back to the surface as they marvelled at the huge underground waterfall or fought to keep their stomach down.
Those that would see it flee through the lobby would think the goblins had botched an anti-possession ritual, while the owner of Borgin and Burke’s would cower behind his counter as it screamed in agony as it was sucked into the cabinet that Malfoy had told him to hold.
-oOo-
Just about Lunchtime…
London, England
Walking through Diagon Alley had Harry feeling jumpy and worried. Not many were out. Those that were, travelled in small groups or hurried along. A few shops had been boarded up. There was a general feel of unease.
Tracey had her arms wrapped around him again as they walked back towards the Leaky Cauldron under the invisibility cloak. He liked how she fit against him. It was much better than when Hermione and him had to do this.
Her body matched his movements.
Tracey didn’t try to steer them or tell him what to do.
In a way, it was a little humbling as she put her trust and faith in him and was following his lead. He had promised to keep her safe, and he would.
Looking at the alley, he knew that this was not a safe place for either of them.
Moving so he could whisper in her ear, he asked, “Do you trust me?”
A slight shiver passed through her body. “What are you on about Pot… Harry?” she whispered back.
“Do you trust me?” he whispered again.
Her arms tightened around his waist. “You promised to keep me safe.”
He led them into the pub, which only had a hand full of guests. Every time he had been in here before the pub had been terribly busy, especially around lunch time. They had gotten through earlier by using some simple disguise rings from Fred and George. This time they made their way to the door, still under the cloak, while following two ministry workers who were loudly talking about having to go take care of some wizard that set of some special fireworks in Sussex and whinging about the enhanced anti-apparition wards around the alley now.
As they walked out into the Muggle world, she let out a breath, as though relieved.
Harry found that interesting, as most Purebloods would not have that reaction. They walked away from the pub before he led them into an alley. Once sure no one was looking, he took the cloak off them. Tracey didn’t let him go right away. Harry didn’t complain, enjoying her curves.
“Your bright idea is to go into the Muggle world?” she asked.
His stomach growled. “Well, I’m hungry and there was no way I was keeping my promise if we stayed in Diagon Alley.”
Tracey finally let go of his waist. Stepping back, she straightened out her skirt, shirt and robes. Looking down at them, she said, “Do witches wear robes in the Muggle world?”
“No. We should be alright if we leave the robes here. We’ll just look like students in our uniforms,” Harry told her. “Unless you want to go shopping?”
“Is that why you got the Muggle money from the tellers?”
He shrugged. “Figured it couldn’t hurt.”
He could see her thinking for a moment. “Perhaps if we are out later. You mentioned lunch?” Tracey put to him.
“Sure. There has to be something around here,” he replied.
He went to put his robe behind a box, unsure, and not really caring, if they ever got it back. “Why not just transfigure it?”
Harry looked to her. “I, ahhh, well, I don’t really know how to transfigure clothes.”
Her brow rose. “Yet when we’re in duelling class the other day with Professor Snape you were able to turn a chair into a dog between spells?”
He gave her a lop sided grin. “Well, I’m good at duelling.”
She shook her head, her mask slipping just a little. “I’ve only seen these in books, mind you,” she told him. She took out her wand and tapped his robe. “Iaccamafors,” she confidently said. His robes turned into a nice medium weight green leather jacket.
He rose an eyebrow at her.
“It matches your eyes,” she said as though it was nothing. She tapped her own robes. “Iaccamafors.” She was wearing a yellow, heavy woollen pea coat that matched her hair rather nicely.
“You just happen to have seen these in a book? Slytherins look at Muggle clothes?” he amusedly asked, suspecting something else.
She gave a slight shrug. “A woman is allowed her secrets.”
“And the fact that you just did magic outside of school or Diagon Alley?” he questioned.
“There are ways to remove the trace,” she told him.
“And how did you learn that?”
“Secrets, Harry. Slytherins trade in secrets,” she replied, that annoying tick to her mouth that said she was amused was starting to drive him crazy. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to have her smile or put his own lips onto that spot…
Where the bloody hell did that thought come from?
“And if I have secrets to trade?”
“A meal is always a good way to talk over something like this,” she suggested.
He got the hint and gave her a wry grin before pulling the jacket onto his arms. Tracey’s rosy cheeks turned brighter. “Does it fit?” he questioned.
“It will do,” she told him. She moved in to wrap an arm around his. “Now, you said something about lunch?”
“I assume feeding you is part of keeping you from harm?”
“Oh, definitely. You never know what I might do if I get too hungry,” she teased, though the look in her eyes had Harry really wanting to know.
They walked further from Diagon Alley. Harry was hoping that staying in the Muggle world would keep them safe from Death Eaters and the ministry.
-oOo-
About the same time…
Wiltshire, England
Lucius was pacing his study again. He had only just been able to get out of custody before Fudge was disposed, but now he was a man on the run, and thus confined to his manor or the errands the Dark Lord sent him on.
The only thing that could save him was to rely on his sixteen-year-old son to complete a task that men five times his age had never been able to do.
He was despairing what would happen to Draco when he failed when a house elf came into the room. “Master Lucius?” the squeaky voice of Rosy came to him.
“What is it? I am only to be disturbed if it is something important,” he coldly disciplined the elf. He would have to have her punish herself if this was something inane again like the guests were eating too much.
She hesitantly took a step forward and held a letter out to him. “Master has received a letter.”
He took a few large strides to reach her and grabbed it out of her hands. The little thing cowered as he towered over her. He was pleased he could still instil fear of this level in someone…
Looking at the envelope, he was curious to see it was from Borgin. Opening the letter, he had to read it twice before being certain. He was having a challenging time believing that Draco had already fixed the vanishing cabinet, but it did seem so. The page of notes that the man said was in the cabinet was definitely in Draco’s hand.
Staring at the pages of notes, his mood began to improve.
He walked past the cowering house elf and towards what was once his grand dining room. Once outside the door, he waited a few heart beats. He should probably verify this, but if Borgin got these notes, the vanishing cabinet had to be working.
Knocking on the door, he waited until the Dark Lord bid, “Come in.”
Striding into the room, he approached the large, throne like chair at the head of the black stone table. The Dark Lord was sitting there, parchments spread before him. “What is it, Lucius? I am busy.”
“I’m sorry, my lord, but I have news from Hogwarts,” he said.
The man didn’t look up from whatever he was writing. “This better be worth my time or I will rethink my gracious reprieve I have given your family.”
Lucius swallowed. “M…my lord, Draco has fixed the cabinet.”
The man stopped to look up at him. His red eyes drilled into Lucius. He knew the man was making sure that he was telling the truth. “If this is true, then your son has been a far better servant than you, Lucius. Are you certain?”
“Borgin sent me a letter saying the cabinet gave off a bright blue light not long ago and he received notes from Draco on how to fix the cabinet inside of it,” Lucius told him.
“Let me see this great work,” Voldemort demanded.
Lucius walked down the length of the room. The great snake was sleeping before the fireplace. It’s middle was still distended from the last shopkeeper that had refused the Dark Lord his cut of profits.
The man took it.
After a few minutes, the Dark Lord put the parchment down and started to mark it up. “Draco may not be one of my fighters, but he has some skill in arithmancy. If you can send this back to him and he makes the changes, then I will lead the assault myself. I want it done tonight,” the Dark Lord ordered.
“Tonight?” Lucius questioned. It had taken Draco almost two months to do this.
“Tonight.” The man held out the parchment. “I think it fitting to bring down the only man I have ever considered a true enemy and his stooge on such an auspicious day. Don’t you? It was fifteen years ago today that a woman used her child to try to defeat me. I will not let that stand.”
Lucius understood. Tonight, not only Dumbledore would fall, but Harry Potter as well.
He left feeling slightly optimistic that his fortunes were turning. This was important enough that he would risk taking these notes to Borgin himself.
-oOo-
Lunchtime…
London, England
For the first time since she had gotten on the Hogwarts Express when she was eleven, Tracey found that she was enjoying herself. The bored, indifferent look that she had been forced to adopt was falling, even if she didn’t realize it.
Harry Potter was nothing like the ponce Malfoy always complained about. Nor was he the arrogant prat that Snape and others claimed him to be. She was finding him to be quirky, funny and down to earth.
She had subtly steered him towards an Indian restaurant that she really enjoyed going to with her mother. She didn’t live far from here, only two underground stops away, but that usually felt a world away whenever she stepped through the barrier in King’s Cross Station.
Watching Harry try the half dozen dishes they had ordered was amusing. It was as though he had never had anything like it before.
“You know, you don’t act anything like what everyone else says you are,” she commented as she took another samosa to dip in her chickpea marsala.
He finished what was in his mouth before asking, “How so?”
“Well, you clearly know your way around the Muggle world. I thought you grew up pampered and trained by the best duellists while locked away in a castle in the mountains,” she told him.
He snorted. “If you read those books, then you should get your money back.”
“Really?”
“Really,” he said, putting another piece of naan in his mouth. He looked to have more to say so she tore her samosa apart. After a moment he said, “I grew up in the Muggle world. Not too far outside of London in Surrey. I never even knew I was a wizard until my eleventh birthday.”
She looked at him curiously. She had heard those rumours, but they seemed more fantastical than him taking on a manticore when he was ten after seeing him use his patronus when he was thirteen against those dementors at the quidditch match or saving the little Delacour girl and his own hostage fourth year.
“That can’t be true,” she said, needing to verify.
“Honest to god truth,” he replied. She blinked at him. No one raised in the wizarding world would ever refer to God.
“You really didn’t know you were a wizard? You are always one of the best and most powerful casters,” she commented.
He gave her a stupid grin that had her insides doing flips. “I had no clue you were watching me?”
“You’re hard to miss,” she told him. Even if he hadn’t been the most famous person in their world, his green eyes, hard abs and messy hair would catch the eye of any girl.
He laughed, then tapped his head. “Yeah. I’ve noticed.”
She looked to his forehead. Not once today had she looked at since Madam Pomfrey had healed it. The scar was looking much fainter. “That is not what I meant.”
“Isn’t it?” he asked curiously. “I’ve met very few that don’t see me as the Boy-Who-Lived or compare me to people that I have never met, and didn’t even know who had died to save me until that day…”
The mirth in his eyes dropped. It took her a second to realize why his mood would drop so quickly. She let herself show him that she felt for him. Reaching for his hand, she squeezed it. “I’m sorry, Harry. I wasn’t even thinking of what day it was.”
“It’s fine. Like I said, I don’t know much about them. There isn’t much to miss. Are those things good?” he asked her, pointing towards the samosa with is fork.
“Very. Try some,” she said, holding out the piece that was in her hand. The look she gave him had her wondering what he was thinking. It was like he was trying to piece a puzzle together. She wasn’t sure to be afraid that he would find out her secrets or not.
“Thank you,” he said, taking her offering. He popped it into his mouth. “That is good,” he told her, taking one from the plate for himself.
“Once you know I am always right, we’ll get along swimmingly,” she told him in her cool tone, not realizing that a small laugh was coming through at the same time.
He chuckled. “I think we’ve gotten along well so far.”
She had to give it to him. They had. “Only because I let you think that.”
“I see. So, I couldn’t entice you into experiencing more Muggle stuff while we are out?” he asked.
“Don’t we need to get back at some point?”
“At some point. I never get to just go out and do what I want,” he replied.
“And what is it you want to do?”
He shrugged. “Everything. I was thinking the cinema or ice skating?”
That seemed totally random. “Ice skating? Why ice skating?”
He shrugged again and started to tear his samosa apart like she had. “I saw it on the telly one time. It looked fun. It looked like something that people do when out on a date.”
Her eyebrows rose towards her hair line. “Date?”
He popped a piece into his mouth. She waited for him to swallow. “Well, I was hoping. I’ve never really been on one before and we seem to be enjoying ourselves, so I thought, maybe this is what a date is like?”
She couldn’t keep her lips from curling up some. It made a slightly crooked grin that his eyes were drawn too. He licked his lips and she found she wanted his tongue to lick her lips…
STOP IT! DANGER! DANGER! DANGER TRACEY DAVIS! Something yelled in her head. She couldn’t fall for a Gryffindor, and definitely not Harry Potter.
Her heart wasn’t listening to her brain though. “You show me what the Muggle world has to offer, and I will tell you if this is a date or not later.”
“Brilliant,” he said enthusiastically. “Ice skating?”
She let out a slight giggle before slapping a hand to her mouth, looking slightly horrified. She couldn’t afford to giggle. The wide grin he gave her had her heart melting.
DANGER!
“And where do you propose to go ice skating? There are no frozen ponds.” She had been trained well to not give up her Muggle roots.
“There has to be a place around. We can find a telephone booth and look it up,” he suggested.
“We could,” she admitted.
“It’s a date then,” he said before popping another bit of the samosa into his mouth.
She didn’t bother to correct him or understand that the annoying grin was because he was solving the puzzle he had found in her.
-oOo-
Early afternoon…
London, England
Lucius looked over his shoulder. Taking the floo to the Leaky Cauldron was perhaps not the brightest idea today.
He knew that a few Aurors had made him out while leaving Knockturn Alley. He needed to leave, but when he had seen the Aurors at the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron, he was forced to take a back way out that he knew only those that didn’t want to be spotted used.
It wasn’t a totally pleasant way out.
It was frankly a rather smelly and disgusting way to leave, as it meant he had to enter the old sewer systems, then come out into a Muggle tunnel system, but if it meant he avoided the Aurors, then that was what he had to do.
Ever since Cornelius had been sacked, security had been tightening up. For the first time in fourteen years, all the wards were up around Diagon, Knockturn and all the side alleys. They were powerful enough to prevent anyone from apparating for blocks, meaning that the only way in our out was through the Leaky Cauldron, or to floo to the ministry before taking a floo to a private house in the alleys.
Thus, he came out into a dark, noisy Muggle tunnel on the side of some rail tracks. Hoping he was finally out of the wards, he twisted. When nothing happened, he growled, swearing to make any Aurors he found miserable for what was left of their short lives.
Swiping his wand down his robes, most of the grime disappeared. He would have loved to get rid of the stench, but he had never bothered learning any freshening spells. That was what house elves were for.
Lighting the tip of his wand, he started going in the direction that felt like up. It took him almost ten minutes to find a brightly lit cavern that was tiled and lit by harsh Muggle lights.
A few dozen people were waiting as a flat nosed, steam less train was pulling up to the platform.
He was in a foul enough mood to take his temper out on the Muggles when a voice caught his attention. He swung his head around. Across the tracks, on another platform, was the boy that had caused him to lose favour with the Dark Lord and why he had to move about like a sewer rat.
He couldn’t hear what the boy was yelling about as the squeal of the approaching train drowned out his voice. There was a blonde girl with him that looked like she was trying not to laugh.
Sneering, he raised his wand. He pulled on his hatred. The boy and the Muggles would pay for his humiliation. “BOMBARDA MAX…”
He was bumped by a guy that slipped a hand into his pocket.
Lucius was standing closer to the edge of the platform than he should have. He was fully inside the yellow line. Over balancing to catch himself, he slipped on the metal lip of the platform.
The trains wheels screeched as it tried to stop.
Between hitting the third rail, then to find out what happens when a body is stuck between the rail and a wheel, the conductor would be scarred for life.
-oOo-
Early Afternoon…
London, England
Harry had never done this before but had always wanted to after see someone do it in a movie one time. It was one of the few times he could remember his relatives letting him watch a Christmas special, and that had only been because they had been forced to drag him to a neighbours when he was six.
By the time he had finished pulling his laces tight on this skates, Tracey was already waiting for him. “You’re slow,” she teased him.
“First time. How are you so fast?” he questioned.
“My mother likes to skate,” she told him. It was one of the first personal things she had told him.
“That must have been nice. Did you grow up in Hogsmeade?”
“Something like that,” she said, closing herself off again.
All the times they had been to Hogsmeade or Hogwarts, he had never seen anyone skating on the Black Loc. She had had a few slip ups that had Harry thinking she wasn’t a Pureblood princess, like the rest of the Slytherins.
For one, she had transfigured their robes into very current fashion. For two, she seemed far too comfortable in the Muggle world. He could remember Mr Weasley nearly walking out into traffic that time they had to be dropped off at King’s Cross Station when the light was green. Tracey had waited without prompting, and at lunch, she had hinted that the restaurant they ate at was one of her favourites.
He wouldn’t call her on it though. There was a reason she was pretending, and he felt it important.
Holding out his hand, she rolled her eyes. “Isn’t it the gentleman that is supposed to help the lady?”
He grinned at her. “Well, you obviously have done this before… oh, bugger…!”
He stumbled as they made their way towards the ice. Tracey caught him. “God, Harry, you fly like a hawk, but walk like a potted sailor,” she griped.
Harry laughed. There was no way she was Pureblood. At least one of her parents must be a Muggleborn or raised. “Why, Miss Davis, I had no clue you were that colourful?”
He loved how her cheeks turned a bright pink. “I will let you go and watch you fall on your face.”
He chuckled. “Right. Gentleman.”
She snorted in mirth. “I’ll give you some credit for keeping your hands to yourself, but that is it.”
He laughed as they walked out onto the ice. It was relatively quiet. Two skaters with coaches were on the left and three others were on the right. Technically, they shouldn’t be here, as it was still a little early for most to be out of school, but the attendant easily accepted that they went to a boarding school that had the afternoon off.
Taking both his hands, she stepped out onto the ice. She naturally took to the skates on the ice, standing steady. He hesitated for a moment. “Do you trust me?” Tracey asked.
Harry looked up to her light brown eyes. Harry had never trusted easily. For all he knew, she could be a Voldemort supporter, but he highly doubted it. Felix pushed him. “As much as you trust me,” he replied.
“Well, I guess you are lucky today, because I’ve trusted you so far and you gave your word to Madam Pomfrey,” she told him. The smirk she had been trying to suppress all day showing through.
Stepping out onto the ice, Harry found that he wished he was on a broom. He stepped, slipped, wobbled and almost took them both down. Tracey laughed. It was the first full laugh he had heard from her all day. “I swear your worse than you danced at the Yule Ball,” she teased.
“You were watching me?”
Quickly, almost too quickly, she retorted, “We all had to watch you with Patil. I think she led you more than you led her.”
He laughed. “Well, good thing I don’t mind women leading me.”
She gave him an odd look for a moment. “You really aren’t like all the others, are you?”
This time his chuckle wasn’t as mirthful. “I’ve been told that every day of my life. So, how do you move forward?”
She was still holding his hands. He liked how warm they were in his. “The easiest way is to just move your feet back and forth,” she encouraged.
Harry tried and had to rely on Tracey starting to skate backwards to pull him along. He stumbled when he tried to do it, causing her to laugh. Luckily, she didn’t mind that he gripped her hands a little tighter.
“Just relax,” she urged.
“It’s a little hard when the ground is uneasy below you,” he whinged.
“Harry,” she said in a tone that caught his attention. It was soft and caring. He looked back up into her eyes. “Is this the way you handle a broom? All tight and fighting it?”
She had pulled him closer so that when she was talking only he could hear her. It was close enough that the mist from her breath hit his face.
“That would be a sure way to fall off,” he replied.
“Then how would you fly?” She was as curious as she was trying to help him.
He took in a long breath. As he let it out, he relaxed. The ice skates didn’t want to fly away from him. “You relax. You let the broom feel the air and you guide. If you fight it, then you don’t fly as steady.”
“Is that how you fly?” she questioned.
He shook his head. “I don’t really think about it. I just feel the broom, the air, the way my hair rustles in the breeze… I just feel like I’m part of the broom.”
“Perhaps you should show me some time?” she whispered. “Daphne always says I should really learn to fly.”
“Are you sure you want to be seen with me at school?” he questioned. She started to skate backwards again. He held her close to him. He let his skates glide over the surface.
She didn’t look as pleased with his question. Instead of answering, she increased the distance between them. She sped up a little bit. Harry felt his legs wobble a little, but he looked down to see the way her feet were moving.
He went to copy her. The first time he pushed off, he almost went down face first. Tracey laughed at him again. The hour was over far too quickly, but by the time it ended, he was at least moving on his own. Tracey, the first real smile on her face that wasn’t from him, was skating around. She was obviously enjoying herself.
Running into the wall to stop himself, he just watched the way she moved. Her hips swaying as she gently moved her feet, before suddenly powering forward, then doing a jump. It was quite graceful, before she turned to skate by him backwards.
He caught her eyes. There was pure joy in them.
Watching her move, he was convinced that she hadn’t fully grown up in the magical world. A bell went off and she skated back over to him. Her cheeks were flush from skating this time. The way she glowed had made this worth the fifteen pounds it had cost him.
She came to a quick stop, her eyes looking up into his as she took in some heavier breaths. He forced himself not to look at the way her chest pressed against her pea coat. “What?” she questioned him.
He shook his head. “Nothing. You just looked like you were enjoying yourself.”
She reached up to brush her blonde locks behind her ear. He liked how she looked a little abashed. “I wanted to be a figure skater. I dreamed of the Olympics. My mum took me to lessons almost every day. Then I got my letter…”
She looked away. The others were getting off the ice.
“We need to get off so they can fix the rink for the next session,” she told him without looking up.
“Sure,” he said, extending his hand.
She took it, mostly pulling him to the open door. As they walked back to the benches to remove their ice skates, she didn’t let go of his hand. Harry selfishly held her hand tight enough to let her know he didn’t want to let go of her hand either.
They had just changed into their oxfords when Tracey whispered without looking to him, “I wouldn’t mind being seen with you at school, but it wouldn’t be safe, for either of us.”
“I promised I would keep you safe,” he reminded her, rather hoping they could be seen together.
When she looked up, her indifferent mask had come back. “It wouldn’t be safe,” she told him before standing up and bringing her rented skates to the attendant.
-oOo-
About the same time…
Hogwarts, Scotland
Draco was in a full panic. All his notes, books and schematics were all gone. Someone had found what he was doing and had taken everything.
Frantically looking around, hoping it had just been a stupid house elf tidying things up, he jumped when a flash came from the vanishing closet. It had never done that before…
“Whose there!” he spat out, his wand coming out.
He whipped it around the stacks of rubbish, old furniture, books and knickknacks.
When no one answered, he approached the cabinet. The runes around the handle were glowing a faint blue. In the month and a half he had been working on it, it had never done that before.
Cautiously approaching the cabinet, he tapped it with his wand. When it didn’t do anything, he reached a shaky hand towards the latch. He knew he hadn’t repaired it, but something was obviously happening.
He touched the latch, then jumped back. If he was to fail at this, the Dark Lord would torture and kill him and his family.
When nothing happened, he took a tentative step forward, then lifted the latch.
The door opened to reveal several parchments.
Reaching in, he snatched them, then jumped back, afraid that something had gone wrong with the daft thing.
Looking down at the parchments, he was surprised to see his father’s familiar script on the top one.
-o-
Draco,
The Dark Lord is impressed that you have already managed to get the vanishing cabinet operational. He reviewed the notes you sent and suggested the following changes to your spell work to ensure the cabinet is stable.
You have until the feast this evening to make the changes. The Dark Lord wishes to make a grand entrance to the staff and students gathered for what will be a festive occasion when Dumbledore and Potter fall to our Lord’s wand.
If you achieve this, you will bring our family back into the Dark Lord’s favour.
Do not fail, my son.
Lucius Malfoy
-o-
Reading the letter, his eyes grew wide. He looked to the cabinet, unsure why it was working. The notes and equations were ones he had forced a Ravenclaw seventh year to do for him or he would have taken advantage of her younger sister. Draco was still looking forward to sampling the fourth year, but for now, the other girl was helping him. He just wished he understood half of what she did and what the charms were to achieve it.
The books were all for cross referencing the equations, and now they were gone.
He swallowed as he looked at the two pages with appended calculations and spells.
He had no idea what most of them were.
But the Dark Lord had instructed him to get it done, so he had no choice.
Looking over the notes, he tried to follow the first line. All he got from the first sentence was that the spell chain roughly meant ‘allow the living to pass on’. He didn’t think the phrase on the parchment matched what he thought it should.
Holding his wand up, he incanted, “Patitur vivos ad traniet.”
The spell jumped from his wand to the cabinet. The rune works around the handle glowed yellow.
He wouldn’t’ understand that he should have paid closer attention to the Latin lessons his mother had given him later that night…
The translation should have been, ‘Patitur onerariam vivorum,’ as the phrasing should have been ‘allow the transport of the living’
It wouldn’t be the only mistake he made in his translation.
-oOo-
Late afternoon…
London, England
The sun was getting low in the sky. Tracey had her arm hooked around his as they wandered around the city, looking into windows, stopping at the odd statue or landmark and just talking about inconsequential stuff.
Harry had never felt more like a normal teen than he did now.
They had just stopped at a window. Harry was looking at the poster of a tropical beach. Tracey was looking up at him, trying to understand the longing look in his eyes. "Have you been to Fiji?" she asked.
"I haven't been much of anywhere. I've only seen the ocean once and never travelled further than London before going to Hogwarts," he told her.
She looked at the poster. Her mother and her may not have had the money to really travel, but she had always made sure that they had taken a trip every Hol. Last summer they had visited France for a long weekend. She had been all over England and Wales by train. She could even remember visiting the Orkneys in Scotland when little.
Looking back to Harry, she could feel the longing in him to go somewhere else.
"Do you want to go to Fiji?"
He shrugged. "Don't rightly know. I don't really know what is out there. It would just be nice to go somewhere, but I doubt I ever will."
He sounded so sad. All day he had been upbeat. She didn't like seeing him like this. "Why not? I've heard that it used to be common for people to go explore the world for a year or two after getting your NEWTS to see what was out there and learn more."
His wistful smile was heartbreaking.
A small part of her was wondering why she would care. Another part, a larger part, was finding she cared very much about him being happy. Tracey had watched Harry for years. She heard what her housemates said about him, but she had never liked how he had been treated.
"That would be fun to just go exploring, but I won't be able too," he replied.
"Why? You have the money," she said, remembering what was in the Black vault.
He shrugged. "I just won't," he told her, then turned away. "I heard there are some good restaurants around a place called Piccadilly Circus. Want to go find out?"
"What about getting back to Hogwarts? The Halloween Feast is tonight and I'm sure someone will be looking for us soon," she replied. She didn't want to end this date with Harry, especially knowing that once they went back, she would not be able to see him again.
He looked back at the poster. "Do you ever want to just leave it all behind? Run away and be someone else?"
She felt taken aback by the question. She felt that way almost every day since her first day at Hogwarts. Looking at his wistful expression again, she found she wanted that very much. She moved in closer, wrapping her other arm around his. "Why don't you show me this Picadillius Circle."
The wistful smile turned wry. "You sure you don't want to go to the feast?"
Taking her largest leap of faith and trust since the hat had called out 'Slytherin', she said, "Let's run away for the night. I'll let you pretend to be whoever you want to be."
His green eyes looked at her, and she felt like he was looking into her soul. They were so deep, so emotional, so much pain while looking for something that she was sure she longed for as well. "And what about you? What do you want to pretend to be?"
She looked at the photo this time. She didn't want to be this shadow of herself she had had to become to survive in Slytherin house. If they knew she was a Muggleborn, handy boys would be the least of her concerns. In a whisper, she replied, "Not me."
Harry didn't comment, instead pulled her away. She turned her head to look at his face. Like she had seen in the past when he was concentrating on finding the snitch or going to face off in task that should have killed a fourteen year old boy, he got this resolute look that had her wanting to snog him.
The thought was so random, she had to catch herself from leaning in closer. "Are we going to Piccadilly Circus?" she asked, forgetting to mess up the name this time.
"Unless you have another suggestion? We can sneak back later, but I don't want to be me, and you don't want to be you, so let's just be us for a while," he told her, giving her a wry grin as though he knew all her deepest secrets.
Her eyes widened to see the gleam in his green eyes. In that second, she knew he knew. Swallowing hard and letting surprise show, she asked, "You know I'm a Muggleborn?"
He shrugged. "No, but you know too much about the Muggle world to not be at least raised here, like me. Why would the hat place you in Slytherin? I thought they all hated Muggleborn."
She wasn't sure to run, hex him or stay. It would be rude to run out on a date, a voice in her head chirped up next to the one that was screaming DANGER WILL ROBINSON! DANGER!
She leaned into his arm as they walked towards an underground entrance. After taking in a long breath to steady herself, she said, "I met Daphne Greengrass on the train. She was nice. She wanted to know about the Muggle world. I wanted to know more about the Magical world. We got to talking. During the conversation she mentioned she would go to Slytherin as that was where her family normally went."
"So, you wanted to join her," he said with understanding.
She made a face. "Not really. I wanted to go to Ravenclaw after reading about Hogwarts. My mum always said I had to get top grades in school. I was a good student, near the top of my class. The hat saw that I wanted to prove myself. It saw my ambitions to become an Olympic figure skater. After talking with Daphne, I was scared when the hat put me there."
He put a hand over hers. It was comforting. "Are you safe there?"
"As long as I am with Daphne, yes. She taught me how to act. Her family has helped me," she replied.
"Like taking the trace of your wand so you could practice over the summer?"
"Yes," she admitted. "There is an old law that Purebloods, old houses and their vassals can have the trace removed. Something about the defence of the blood. I wasn't allowed to look at the laws since only those that have Wizengamot seats or old houses could see those old laws."
He snorted, sounding disgusted. "Figures. No wonder so many of them come to school already knowing magic."
She frowned. "Didn't you have the trace removed on your wand?"
"Why would I? I'm not part of some old house and no one ever told me," he said back.
"Daphne says the Potters are older than her house and she has never understood why you reject your heritage and the old ways. You know that Draco is so against you because you snubbed him the first day you met him and have offended most of the old houses by the way you act?" she put to him. If Daphne hadn't taken her in that first day, she would have done the same.
"The ponce is offended because I told him to bugger off? I meant it that I grew up with Muggles. No one has ever told me that I was offending people or that my house is that old. Even Sirius never told me much besides stories of him and my father pranking people. So, what did I do that was so offensive?" Harry enquired.
As he spoke, she realized that she had made the same assumption as everyone else. She had thought Harry was snubbing everyone on purpose. Half his charm today was that he refused to act like all the prats she had to associate with now. Knowing that he didn't even know what he was doing had her understanding that Harry Potter wasn't like anything that anyone ever assumed him to be.
Perhaps she could help him some? "It is highly offensive, even if you are enemies, to not shake hands or recognize important people. Malfoy may be an arrogant prat, but his family holds a lot of power. He was reaching out to a house that holds equal, if not greater power, and by you telling him to 'bugger off', you essentially said he is no one and his family status means nothing. It hurt his reputation and embarrassed him."
Harry gave a dark chuckle. "So, being an eleven year old that had only ever been to the Wizarding world for the few hours Hagrid had taken me, with no knowledge of anything, offended someone so bad that he is like my lifetime enemy? How pathetic are the Purebloods?"
She giggled. "They are traditionalists. My mum thinks of them like some of her favourite novels from the late eighteen-hundreds. They follow some more modern traditions, but mostly the old houses still act a hundred or more years behind the times. It's gotten worse since the Dark Lord has come back."
Harry's hand squeezed hers. "Tracey, if you need to get out, I know people."
She snorted. "You mean Dumbledore? I don't believe in any of the Pureblood non-sense, but I've heard stories and he's not as Light as he likes to have people believe."
Harry didn't question her. "I have other people. I wouldn't want you to get involved with the Order of the Pheonix. Sirius didn't really trust them before he died. I don't know if I do either."
"What is the Order of the Phoenix?" she asked.
"A group led by Dumbledore. Personally, I think he's losing the plot. He's supposed to be teaching me this year, but all he's doing is giving me a history lesson." He took his hand off hers to pull at his hair before rubbing his neck.
"You mean you haven't been trained by him since coming to Hogwarts? They all think your his little pet in Slytherin," she commented.
"Yeah, they aren't the only ones. The only pet he has is Snape," Harry sarcastically remarked.
They walked in behind a group of workers. It was getting close to the rush time home, so streets were busier.
"Dumbledore has never trained me," Harry told her.
"And everyone expects you to defeat the Dark Lord?" she trepidatiously questioned. It scared her about what was going on. If she was to lose Daphne, what would happen to her?
"I know, mental," Harry commented.
He stopped at the booth to look at a map. "Do you know where we are going?"
Not needing to act anymore, she looked at the map. "Here. Unless you want to go somewhere else?"
"I've never really explored before, so you tell me," he put to her.
Looking at the map, she pointed to another station further out. "There is a really nice fish fry place that my mum treats me to at times." She missed the real world food that she grew up with while at Hogwarts.
"Sounds brilliant. Lead on, McDuff. Lead on," he said to her.
"You may regret that," she told him.
He gave that wry grin that had her stomach doing flips every time he did. "You haven't led me wrong yet."
Giving him a smile, she led him towards the platforms. They could have a more serious conversation later. For now, she didn't want to think about Hogwarts and what would happen when Goyle got his buddies together…
-oOo-
Dinnertime…
London, England
Lucius had never returned, but the owl from Borgin had said he had received a second delivery from Draco confirming the changes had been made to properly fix the cabinet. The sun had already set, and the city of London was ablaze with lights as a bell tolled six in the evening. The Halloween feast would be starting soon at Hogwarts and Voldemort was anxious to get to the real festivities of the night.
Walking down Knockturn Alley with Nagini curled around his shoulders and mid-section, he didn't bother to disguise himself or hide the nearly fifty followers with him, as soon it wouldn't matter and word would never reach the castle in time, if it even got to the ministry before Hogwarts fell.
Four dead Aurors were already at the head of the alley and more would join them before the sun set tomorrow. He expected to be sitting on his thrown in the minister's office this time tomorrow night.
Enjoying how most scurried away or hid from his presence, he led them to the run down shop that was Borgin and Burke’s. The gold lettering was faded and hard to read. Inside the store, it wasn't much better than the grimy Knockturn Alley.
Borgin came hurrying out his back room. "How can I help… my Lord, you are here," the man said, his eyes going wide to Voldemort standing in his store.
He gave the man a mirthless smile. "I am here, and soon will free us from the oppression of the Muggleborn and the blood traitors. Where is the cabinet?"
The man swallowed. Bowing, he nearly hit his head on his own counter as he moved to go around it. "This way."
Confidently following the man, he strode into the back room of the shop to stand before a large, dark wood cabinet. It didn't look like much, but that had been the idea more than a hundred years ago when they were still popular. Why they had lost their appeal, he didn't know, as they could have saved many during his initial purge more than a decade back.
"You are positive that it works?" he asked. His followers started to pile into the room.
"Yes, my lord. I have sent several missives with responses from young Malfoy," the man said.
"Only missives?"
"A bird passed through about a half-hour ago," Borgin told him.
"Marvelous," he said in a dry tone. "And it was alive when it arrived?"
"Yes. It flew out the store when a patron came in not long ago," the man told him.
He turned to the people that would take Hogwarts from the inside and then start the Great Purge of their society. "Today we make the first strike to our dominance over those that would oppose us. Only strike down those children that would be fool enough to oppose us. If others die, I will not be pleased. Any staff, members of the Order of the Pheonix or ministry workers… kill them," he said with some relish.
Everyone cheered.
"We must be quick. Once I am through, you are all to follow as fast as possible. Draco Malfoy has gathered our other faithful in Hogwarts and awaits us to join them. Let's not disappoint our children and show them what it means to have true power," he said with a snarl.
He turned to Borgin. "You are not to allow anyone else into the shop until you hear from me the castle has fallen."
The man swallowed hard. "Yes, my lord."
With a nod, he turned to the cabinet. Opening the door, he could feel the magic. It was powerful. It would have to be to be able to punch through wards. As far as he knew, nothing could block the magic of a paired vanishing cabinet.
Inside, it looked just like a large armoire. Nagini hissed, not liking the cabinet. He didn't hesitate to step in. Closing the door, he was initially unimpressed, expecting some large show of magic. He didn't feel anything at first… then there was a strange prickling. It was like something inside him was pulling at him.
He didn't understand at first, until the little bit of light in the cabinet started to fade. He felt like is feet where being sucked into a strange void as something inside him started to become painful. Nagini started to squirm. He had to push against her to keep her from squeezing him too hard.
Realizing this wasn't right, he reached for the door handle to quickly get out.
His hand passed through the handle.
The sucking sensation grew. Nagini started to tighten her hold to an uncomfortable level. He looked down to see the floor was rapidly disappearing to form a black hole that was sucking in all the light. His feet were already distorting. The painful sensation was growing.
"NO!" he screamed in rage. He knew this sensation. It was the same he had felt that night Potter had ripped his soul from his body. His wand came up. The blasting curse had an effect on the cabinet that his hand had not…
-o-
Walden McNair was anxiously awaiting for the Dark Lord to go through and for him to use his axe. It had been many years since it had been used on human flesh, and always liked the way children screamed. If he accidentally hit a few extra, it was just a fortunate accident.
The cabinet door closed.
The excitement of finally being able to come out of the shadows was getting to even the most seasoned of the Dark Lord's followers.
When the runes around the latch started to glow, he moved forward to be one of the first ones through. After a few seconds, the runes started to glow a very bright blue. A few in the back nervously backed towards the door to the room. Those in front shielded their eyes.
It was sudden, violent and unexpected when the cabinet suddenly exploded. Wood shrapnel shredded or impaled many. McNair found out what it was like to be decapitated like so many of his victims. The magical backlash flattened or threw everyone else bodily in the walls. The building shook and groaned.
Those that were cogent enough to get up, found themselves unable to go far as a sucking sensation gripped onto them. In the spot the cabinet had been, there was now a gaping black hole that was sucking everything into it…
Borgin's last client, a rather stinky Mundungus Fletcher, had appeared to pawn off items he had nicked from the old Black estate at Grimmauld Place. For months now he had slowly been pilfering what was left, and today he had found the jewel of the collection. A rather ornate locket with a huge emerald on it.
Borgin hadn’t had a chance to put it into his safe yet, immediately having recognized it and remembered selling it to that old hag, Hepzibah Smith, decades ago. As the black hole sucked everything into it, the box with the locket joined the nearly fifty Death Eaters, one shop proprietor, one Dark Lord and his familiar, then the surrounding buildings….
-oOo-
About the same time…
Hogwarts, Scotland
Draco was waiting by the cabinet. His instincts were telling him to stand further back, but his pride had him front and centre. He had fixed the cabinet. The conjured bird went through, and he had gotten a confirmation from Borgin. He knew the instruction had said to use a real animal, but he couldn't find one in time since he had been in the room all afternoon.
The Dark Lord and the others should be coming through at any moment now.
Around him were gathered all those that had been marked or were supporters. Thirty-two students, mostly Slytherin or Ravenclaw, looked to him as their leader, and this would elevate him over his father at their lord's side.
"Draco, how much longer?" the seventh-year Pucey demanded. "You said just before the feast. It is after six and the Halloween feast will start at six-thirty."
"Do you want to tell the Dark Lord he is late?" Draco put to him.
Pucey backed down.
A general murmur of excitement started when the runes around the latch to the door started to glow. Draco's stomach twisted uncomfortably. He was either going to be rewarded beyond his wildest dreams or the Dark Lord would be very displeased with him.
As the runes grew brighter, the excited murmurs became louder.
The runes glowed brighter.
The hair on the back of his neck started to stand on end.
Something felt off.
The murmurs became concerned.
He was just about to bolt when the runes flashed a bright blue, causing him to shield his eyes, before the cabinet suddenly blew apart. He was thrown into one of the towering piles of refuse. Screams and yells suddenly filled the cavernous hall.
Things began to shift underneath him.
He managed to sit up as the desk he was laying on gave a stomach churning lurch. It pitched. Draco screamed. Like most of the others around him, as he looked into the yawning black hole that was sucking everything into it.
A few were firing spells, while those not injured, or already being sucked in, scrambled to get away. Draco rolled over, fighting through the pain in his arm. Looking down, he could see it was broken.
The table started to flip over as the piles were pulled in.
He tried to climb over it before it lurched, pitched and he was smashed between the heavy table the debris below it when it flipped over.
The trolls of the painting all stopped dancing to turn their heads towards the muffled screams. They started to roar with blood lust, sending the barmy wizard trying to teach them fleeing too somewhere safer. They calmed quickly afterwards when the door to the Room of Requirement disappeared as there were no wizards or witches in it to give it form.
-oOo-
Not long later…
London, England
It was getting chilly as a breeze started to cut through the October evening. People were going out to celebrate. Harry was having an excellent time avoiding all the popularity of the day and the hype of the Wizarding world for Halloween by sitting on a stool along a sideboard in a narrow shop along the Thames. The shop was relatively empty, and she had said the owner was a Muggleborn that they had found after she started at Hogwarts.
Tracey was laughing as she was talking. "My mum had frosting all over her. It was the first time I remember doing accidental magic," she said.
Harry chuckled, enjoying the way her face lit up as she talked. Seeing the real Tracey Davis was far better than the moody, taciturn girl she had always shown at school.
"So, you didn't like chocolate cake, so you blew it up?" he said before popping a chip into his mouth.
"I hate chocolate, and that's about it," she confirmed. "What about you?"
He finished chewing. He remembered all too well that first time… and the beating that had come when he was about five. He had probably had accidents before then, but he remembered that one. He chose a safe one. "I turned a teacher’s hair bright purple because I got in trouble for something my cousin did."
She chuckled. "I would have loved to see that."
"It wasn't anything spectacular. Not like decorating my kitchen with birthday cake," he teased her.
She leaned over to nudge him with her shoulder. "Prat."
"Yep," he replied.
She took the last bite of her fried fish. He was just picking at the last few chips in his basket. He had never have a fish fry before and found he liked it.
As she finished chewing, he noticed that she turned back into herself. She finished her pop, making a loud noise as the last went up her straw. "I miss this at Hogwarts."
"I do too," he agreed, meaning being able to do more than just be around the castle or go to Hogsmeade. The Wizarding world was too small.
With a heavy sigh, Tracey commented, "I suppose that we can't run anymore, can we?"
"I suppose not. Not unless you want too?" having a hopeful quality to his voice.
She looked up to him. "Harry, I'm a witch. I can't just run away from this. Even if the Dark Lord takes over, I can't let anyone know who I am," she told him, a hint of desperation in her voice.
"If you don't want to run, then don't, but I don't want to stop seeing you," he said.
She gave him a wistful smile. "I never agreed this was a date."
"I was rather hoping it was, and that you would like to go out on another," he told her.
"We can't," she said.
"Tracey, I promised I would keep you safe. If I have to march into the Slytherin common room to take care of the Death Eaters, I will," he told her. He would have no clue if he could do it, but what he had found today was something he felt could be worth fighting for. He had never really felt that way before.
She shook her head. "You don't even know where it is, so how could you?"
"It’s two levels down from the great hall, three staircases and across from the candlestick of the snakes where the portrait of some stuffy man with a snake is," he told her.
She just blinked at him. "How the bloody hell could you know that! It's kept secret from everyone, and the prefects, Professor Snape and the older students even patrol the area to keep other students away from it."
He grinned. "I have my secrets."
She didn't look impressed. "That map of yours?"
"Nope. My father and his friends never found it," he said with pride.
"Then how?"
"Would you believe it if I told you Hermione could brew polyjuice our second year and Ron Weasley and I snuck in to see if Malfoy was the heir of Slytherin?" he posed.
She looked dumbfounded for just a second. Then she laughed. “I always knew she was a little swat.”
“Oi! She isn’t that bad,” he complained.
“I mean she isn’t the goodie goodie that everyone thinks she is,” she shot back.
Harry laughed. “She’s just better at hiding the trouble she gets into.”
“She must be. So, she really fought all those people with you in the ministry? We all thought you just dragged her along,” Tracey asked.
“I wanted them all to stay behind. I was told they were coming, one way or another,” he told her. She had thought she had successfully side tracked him. “I mean it, though. I will come down to the Slytherin common room.”
She looked into his green eyes, wishing that she could fall into them. She gave him a sad smile. “I think we should go back now.”
He looked like a kicked puppy. Standing up, he took her rubbish. “I’ll just toss this.”
She felt horrible. The day had been wonderful. She had finally met a boy that didn’t just seem to want her body. Also, one that knew her largest secret. When he came back, he only nodded for them to go.
She wanted to reach out for him but decided not to.
“Are we going back through the Leaky Cauldron?”
“I don’t see why we need to hide. I was going to call the Knight Bus,” he told her. The Felix Felicis must be wearing off. At least, to him, it had been the best day of his life.
“What is the Knight Bus?” she asked, never having been told about it. He gave her a wry smile that held none of the mirth it had earlier in the day.
“You’ll love it,” Harry told her. She wasn’t sure she would because of the glimmer in his eyes.
When it arrived, he let her on first, paid the fair, then went to stand next to her. “You better hold on,” he told her, grabbing the bar in the middle of the bus. She looked at the comfortable chairs.
“Why?”
“I hate how the chairs slide around,” he told her.
The bus suddenly lurched, taking off with a ‘bang’ as the engine backfired. She screamed as she stumbled back. Harry caught her, wrapping an arm around her, his hand on her waist. She squawked as the bus lurched again, it felt like a portkey, and she wrapped her arms around Harry, needing something solid as the world moved around her.
When the bus suddenly screeched to a halt, Harry tightened his hold on her. She hugged him as hard as she could, not liking how the bus moved.
“Wentworth,” the conductor yelled.
An unsteady wizard stumbled down the stairs then out the door.
Harry had to fight the urge to rest his nose in her hair.
Tracey liked how she fit against Harry, not minding his hand on her hip, especially when the bus shot off again. They jostled as it hopped around the island. It was three stops later, her legs shaking something fierce as she desperately clung to Harry, that the conductor finally called out, “Hogsmeade!”
Harry had to help her off the bus. Once it took off like a rocket, Harry said, “You can let go now.”
She shook her head. He was the only thing keeping her up as she fought to keep dinner down.
The clock tower from Hogwarts could be heard in the town. It chimed eight.
“Come on, then,” he told her, leading her through the town.
It wasn’t until he lit his wand to walk past the edge of town that she felt well enough to walk on her own. “Where are we going?”
“Honeydukes is closed this time of night. The only other passage I know is from the Shrieking Shack,” he informed her.
Her eyes grew impossible wide. “But… but that’s haunted!”
He chuckled. “People just want you to think it is. It was a werewolf that used to be locked in there on the full moon,” he told her.
“How could you know that?”
“Well, there was a reason one of the Marauders was called Moony,” Harry told her.
“Your father used to be friends with a werewolf?” she nervously asked.
“Yeah. He taught at Hogwarts for a while.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You mean Professor Lupin?”
His voice had a sad tenor. “Yeah.”
He didn’t comment that she still had her arms wrapped tightly around his waist.
“You aren’t just doing this to get me away from the village so you can take advantage of me, are you?” she asked, hoping beyond hope that wasn’t the case.
“I told you I would never get handsy unless you want me too,” he replied.
Good answer, she told herself, not wanting to let go. Also, not sure if she would mind if he got handsy with her.
It took them a little bit to make it up to the castle. When they did, he took out his invisibility cloak. They didn’t talk as he led her down to the Slytherin common room. When standing before the painting, she didn’t even thing that they hadn’t had to avoid any prefect or guards that were always in the corridors near the common room.
“I did what I promised. I kept you from hurting yourself or getting hurt,” Harry told her, sounding rather sad.
She felt like her insides were balling up. “You did. I will inform Madam Pomfrey. Thank you, Potter.”
The joy in his green eyes dimmed. “Sure, Davis.”
Not wanting it to end like this, she moved to go up on her tip toes. Her lips brushed his. She wanted to do more, but knew if she did, she wouldn’t be able to ignore him like she needed too.
Stepping from out under the invisibility cloak, she stepped up to the portrait, clinging as hard as she could to her indifferent mask. After whispering the password, she slipped in and closed it behind her.
Passing through the common room, there was a buzz of something going on. She didn’t bother to find out, slipping past everyone to make it for the room she shared with Daphne. She hadn’t realized that she had forgotten to transfigure their jackets back to robes.
Most didn’t even notice her.
One person did.
She had time to get back into her room, sit on her bed, and then throw her head into her hands. She didn’t cry, but she wanted too. Crying was a dangerous thing in Slytherin house. When the door opened, she didn’t look up.
“Where have you been?” the normally cool voice of Daphne was worried. She rushed over to sit on the bed, wrapping her hands around her. “Merlin, Tracey, tell me you weren’t with Parkinson and those others!”
She pushed off her friend, her indifferent mask hiding the pain she was in. “What are you on about, Daphne? You know I don’t go anywhere near Parkinson or the others if I can help it.”
“Thank Merlin! I was so worried. The Aurors were called when Professor Snape passed out in the great hall just as the feast started. They are looking everywhere. Parkinson, Malfoy, Nott… their all missing,” Daphne emotionally said. “Blaise…”
She could tell her friend was hurting. “What’s going on, Daph?”
“I don’t know. Blaise said he was going to try to stop Nott from being stupid, and now he’s missing with the others,” Daphne cried. Tracey wrapped her arms around Daphne. Like usual, she could bury who she was. She had been learning to do that for years now. After today, she would hide who she was so deep that no one would ever see her again…
-o-
Harry felt hollow inside. He had thought the curse of Halloween had finally been broken.
He felt dejected.
His lips tingled where her lips had brushed his.
While it lasted, it had been the best day. His luck had held out far longer than he had expected.
As he approached the portrait hole, he missed the Aurors walking away.
Taking his cloak off, he dejectedly said, “Moonlight.”
When the portrait didn’t open, he looked up. The Fat Lady wasn’t in the portrait. He kicked at the floor before going to find a classroom to sleep in for the night.
-oOo-
November 1, 1996
Hogwarts, Scotland
Making it to the great hall, it was already loud with noise.
He was still in the same clothes from yesterday, including his green leather coat. He wasn’t really looking up when he walked down the stairs. When someone yelled out, “Hey, what are you doing out here!” Harry whipped his head up.
His hand went to his pocket to grab his wand.
Three men and a woman in red leather robes were outside the hall. He recognized them as Aurors. “Uhm, I was coming down to get breakfast?” he said, trying to play it cool. They all looked a little on edge.
“All the students were supposed to come down with the other Aurors. Are you one of the missing students?” the man demanded.
“What missing students?” he asked.
“Stand down, Robards. He’s just a kid. Come over here, lad,” an older man said in a kinder tone.
Harry wearily walked down the stairs, his hand still in his pocket. It never boded well when the ministry got involved at Hogwarts. “I’m sorry, auror, but what are you doing here?”
“We’ll ask the questions,” the one named Robards told him.
“Stand down,” the older man ordered. “I’m Senior Auror Bacon. We had a number of students go missing after an incident last night. What’s your name, lad?”
“Harry Potter,” he told them, not used to not being recognized. Everyone always recognized him by his scar.
“Potter? Emerson, is he one of them?”
“Yes, boss. Harry Potter. I thought he had a scar on his forehead?” the female Auror said, looking at a parchment in her hands. He reached to feel his forehead to find it was smooth, not the bumpy crag it always had been.
“Right, Potter. Where have you been? Why weren’t you at the feast last night?” Bacon questioned.
“Well, it’s not like I like to celebrate the day my parents were killed,” he snapped back. Apparently, he was feeling extremely bitter about the day now.
“Easy, lad. I’m sorry about what happened to your parents. I worked with your father for a bit. A good man. Where were you then?” the man gently enquired.
“Out. When I came back, the Fat Lady was missing so I had to kip in a classroom. What’s going on?” Harry questioned.
“We can’t say. Maybe something will come out in the Daily Prophet today or tomorrow,” the man answered.
Harry’s stomach grumbled. “Did I answer your questions? I’m kind of hungry,” he told them.
“Sure, Potter. Go get some breakfast. I would like to ask you more about where you were last night after you eat,” the man told him.
“Sure,” Harry said, having no intention of telling them about his day yesterday. It was too personal, and if he had to die trying to kill Voldemort, then at least he got to understand what it was like to find someone he would have done anything for.
Moving past the Aurors, he was almost to the table when a bushy haired missile slammed into him. “Oh, Harry! Where have you been!” Hermione exclaimed.
He looked up to Ron, who was giving him a look that said, ‘mental, that one’. He nodded.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“We don’t know,” she said, pulling back and wiping tears off her face. “The Daily Prophet is all about something that just swallowed half of Knockturn Alley. They are saying there are three students in the hospital wing and more than thirty are missing.”
His head quickly scanned the room, his heart stopping for a second before he found the blonde hair of a girl that had ripped his heart out. His heart didn’t start again until he saw her. She looked over to him, her bored expression telling him nothing, but her eyes expressing her relief to see him.
Perhaps there was still hope?
“Where were you yesterday? Ron and I looked all over for you. And what are you wearing? I’ve never seen this before,” Hermione questioned, pulling on the collar of his leather jacket.
He shrugged. “Something I picked up. Now, what is going on with Knockturn Alley and the missing students? Who’s missing?”
“About half the upper years in Slytherin, a few Ravenclaws and two Gryffindors,” Ron told him as he joined them at the table. Just before sitting down, he scanned the Slytherin table again, needing to know that Tracey was there. She met his eyes again, before looking away. “Malfoy?” he asked, not seeing the ponce.
“Yeah. Malfoy, Parkinson, Moon, Nott, Goyle, Crabbe… you missed the best part though. Snape dropped dead at the staff table,” Ron said with a huge grin. “Then Dumbledore gripped his arm and had to be taken off to Saint Mungo’s.”
Hermione hit his shoulder. “He did not drop dead!”
“Madam Pomfrey had to take Snape out of here on a stretcher,” Ron shot back.
“He was still breathing,” Hermione corrected.
Merlin, I have one good day out and missed all the good stuff… he commented to himself.
-oOo-
November 3, 1996
London, England
Amelia Bones, Head of the DMLE, was standing on the edge of the large crater where half of Knockturn Alley once stood. What ever happened had also taken out several Muggle buildings. They had just been lucky this side of the Alley was far enough from Diagon Alley to not damage that as well.
A half dozen wizards in grey cloaks were wandering around the crater and surrounding area while her Aurors kept all the busy bodies away.
When one of the grey robes Unspeakables spotted her, they made their way up the slope. “Madam Bones,” and old man greeted her when he pulled pack the cowl of his hood.
“Croaker. Care to tell me what happened?”
The man looked towards the crater. “Do you know what a vanishing cabinet is?”
“I heard my gran talk about one once. I thought they had been made illegal?”
“They are. The Unspeakables classed them as dark objects in eighteen-sixty-three. We thought we had disposed of them all, but there must have been a pair we missed,” he told her.
She looked at the crater. “A vanishing cabinet did this? How?”
“They were made illegal because the rune work and enchantments could fail or were easily corrupted if someone not familiar with them did any work on one or where damaged. They were designed to get around any ward by using the link between this world and the next. There were several disasters of them failing,” he indicated the crater. “This is the largest event we have on record.”
“Sweet Merlin,” she muttered. “Are you saying there is a gate opened between us and death?”
“There was. The link is always unstable without the proper means to keep the veil between the worlds open. There is only one such object I know about that has achieved that feat. The gate closed within minutes of it opening, but it was wide enough to swallow everything within two-hundred and fifty feet of the opening. What I don’t understand is where the linking cabinet is. When one fails, both fail, though the second gate is usually only a quarter the size, but we should have been able to find it by now,” he told her.
She frowned, not liking the implication there could be another site like this. The minister was already breathing down her neck because of the Prime Minister demanding answers and the notices that Gringotts sent the Department of Records this morning, not to mention the thirty-two missing students at Hogwarts.
“Do you need more resources? I can call up a half-dozen retirees,” she told him.
Croaker looked back at the crater. “I think the Unspeakables can handle this. We are almost done. The magical reversal department and Obliviators are calling this an unknown sink hole. We are going to seal this end of Knockturn alley and let the Muggles reclaim all this.”
She nodded. It was probably for the best. “Thank you, Croaker. I want to be informed when you find the second site and anything else of importance.”
“I will pass along what I can,” he promised. “Oh, thought you should know. The three Death Eaters we knew about, they have all lost their Dark Marks and most of their magic.”
But by the way Croaker said it so casually before walking away, coupled with the death notices and this event, she had a feeling they were all linked. Unfortunately, she knew the Unspeakables would keep as much of what really happened, and any findings they had, to themselves.
She would have to comfort herself in the knowledge she had always been good at putting the pieces together and they all just fit too nicely not to mean what she hoped…
-oOo-
November 5, 1996
Hogwarts, Scotland
The last few days had been the most miserable of her life.
Daphne was besides herself after finding out Blaise was in the hospital wing. He and a few others had tried to stop some of the ones that had gone off with Draco and had been tortured with the Cruciatus curse before being stunned and left in a classroom.
He was recovering, but still had the shakes.
Daphne, usually frigid and curt with everyone, was helping him eat by holding his fork for him.
If that wasn’t the only thing that had been turned upside down, the dynamics of Slytherin house had shifted, leaving everyone adrift to figure out what to do in the power vacuum left by having Professor Snape, Malfoy and all the ones that people said had been marked by the Dark Lord gone.
Those that may have supported the Dark Wanker, were just as lost as many parents had gone missing the same night, leaving many in a quandary when the black envelopes had arrived from Gringotts three days ago. By treaty, the goblins couldn’t send out death notices for those they monitored by their vaults until they were deceased at least forty-eight hours.
Trying not to scowl at the disgusting display by Daphne, she surreptitiously looked across the hall. Every time she was at a meal, or whenever she could, she looked for one certain green eyed boy.
After all the news the last few days, especially when the Daily Prophet had reported that several key people were missing from the ministry, she felt she had to know that Harry was here and safe.
Her heart didn’t slow down until she found him. He was at the end of the table, like he had been every day. He was sitting closest to the doors, as though expecting something to happen. After a moment, he looked up, his eyes meeting hers. She looked away as soon as she was sure he had seen her looking at him.
Her insides twisted to see the slightly hopeful look die by the time she would look back.
It was probably a good thing that everyone was preoccupied with everything else, or they might have caught her staring when he turned to talk with his friends.
Classes had resumed this morning.
It was a day off for her, so she was going to spend some time in the library to catch up on her essays and revision.
Getting up, Daphne didn’t even notice.
Looking down to watch her feet, she left the hall to head towards her common room and to get her bag.
She had made it down the first flight of stairs when someone grabbed her hand. Out of instincts learned being in the dungeons, she spun about, her hand already balled up and ready to strike. The boy stepped back, avoiding her fist.
“Easy, Davis.”
It was the voice that had been in her dreams the last five nights. Looking up, his green eyes met hers. She frantically looked around. “What are you doing here?” she whisper yelled.
She pulled him away from the stairs and into an alcove that most never passed.
He gave her that stupid grin that had her wanting to pull him down to wipe it off his face with her mouth…
“I just wanted to see if you were alright,” Harry said, becoming serious.
“Just fine, Potter. We can’t be seen. Leave,” she told him, kicking herself all the time she was saying it.
He didn’t move. It took her a moment to realize that she was against the wall, his hands were on either side of her head. He was leaning over just a little too much, definitely invading her personal space, but he was far enough away she could easily slip under his arms. She knew she should, but that stupid voice that was usually screaming ‘DANGER!’, was instead encouraging her to pull him in closer. If she couldn’t reach his lips by just leaning her head forward, it felt too far away.
He was quite for a moment.
His breathing seemed a little quick.
It was starting to drive her crazy as his intense eyes were calling to her.
“What if I don’t want too?” he put to her.
“Want to what?” she asked, her voice only loud enough for him to hear.
“What if I don’t want to leave?” he put to her.
She screamed in her head. “I told you too,” she replied.
His eyes looked pained, and her heart cried out to just pull him in and hug him. After a moment, he came back with, “If you tell me to leave and mean it, I will. I won’t bother you again, but, God, Tracey, you’re all I’ve thought about the last few days. It’s killed me to not know if you are alright. Are you alright? Is anyone bothering you? I just need to know you are alright.”
The pleading in his eyes and voice had her indifferent mask dropping. She fought the urge to push him away, then the urge to pull him closer. After a moment, she let out a soft sob. Harry’s face dropped. He pulled back. “Oh, I’m sorry.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Right. I won’t bother you again.”
He turned to leave, and her hand shot out. He stopped, his arm stretched as her hand clung to his. When he turned, looking at her curiously, she moved to wrap her arms around him. His arms closed around her. For the first time in days, she felt safe. He was a rock she never knew she needed. He just held her as she cried into his chest.
“It’s alright, Tracey,” he soothed, rubbing her back.
She gave a watery chuckle. “Jesus, Harry! I spend five years building up this hard exterior and you bring it crashing down in one day,” she whinged.
He chuckled. “I think you’re really pretty when you smile.”
She laughed into his chest. “You’re a prat!”
“So I’ve heard,” he snarked back.
Getting herself together, she pulled back enough to look up at him. He leaned his head down to rest his forehead on hers. She closed her eyes, not used to such an intimate touch being wanted.
“Are you alright?” he asked again.
“No, but I feel better with you here,” she told him. “I’ve been going spare to know how you are and to understand what is going on.”
“Are things bad in Slytherin?”
“It’s just odd. No one seems to know what to do. Malfoy and all the main power brokers are missing or gone. Daphne is acting like a complete loon. She has always told me that we need to keep our masks up to protect ourselves, and she’s feeding Blaise in the great hall! You keep wearing that stupid leather jacket,” she told him.
He shifted. “I’ll get rid of it.”
“Don’t you bloody dare!” she fiercely demanded, opening her eyes and giving him an intense look. She grabbed the jacket. “Jesus, Harry! Do you know how bloody jealous I’m getting at the looks the other girls are giving you when you wear this?”
He chuckled. “It’s your own bloody fault, you know.”
“I know,” she told him, getting lost in his eyes. They just stood there for a long few moments. After a few, she put to him, “Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Aren’t you going to kiss me?” she asked, not thinking he could be this dense at the look she was giving him and how her body kept trying to press against his as hard as she could.
“As long as you ask,” he told her, before dipping his head.
Their lips met. Just as the little peck had left tingles on her lips for hours, this was so much better as the kiss lasted. She moved her lips, to have him match. As he grew a little bolder, his hands moved to her waist. She flicked her tongue out, making him groan in a way that sent pleasant shivers through her.
She wasn’t sure how, but her hands had moved up to tangle in his hair while his hands had found their way just enough under her jumper that she could feel his hot finger tops through her blouse just above her hips.
They broke apart, both panting hard, lips puffy from the pleasant abuse they had just put them through and her wanting him to do more.
He leaned his forehead against hers again. “If we are doing this, I want to be seen with you,” he told her.
She wasn’t sure to cry or whoop with joy. She settled for a giggle. “What about Malfoy and the others if they come back?”
“I will protect you,” he told her, the edge to his voice eliciting a deep seated fire in her gut.
“You promise?” she asked.
“As long as you want me,” he told her.
She pushed up on her toes to crash her lips into his again.
It would be rather fortuitous that Malfoy and the others would never return and the Blood Supremacist politics of Slytherin would be forever altered, and the house would truly become the place for the ambitious, cunning and resourceful.
And while the revolution was happening, Tracey would hold onto Harry, not caring at the looks when they walked into the great hall at lunchtime that day, hand-in-hand, and to the incessant questions of Granger to understand how they had gotten together.
She would reward Harry later when he told her it was because of a little luck.
It would only be years later that Harry would tell her that first perfect day of his life was the day he took a dose of Felix Felicis and had made a promise he kept until their dying days.
Madam Pomfrey would be happy when she won the pool for when Harry would propose to her, when they would have their first child, but finally lose when they had twins the second time she got pregnant.
-Fin-
