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“Someone back up on the street that I‘d rather didn‘t recognise me.”

“Oh right. Bloody paparazzi.”

Harry stepped back out into the street and did his school shopping quickly. When he walked back past Fortescue’s the wizard was still there, showing the waitress a long scar on his arm.

*

Harry stood in the country lane and rechecked the letter he held in his hand. He was sure he was at least in the right village and probably on the right road. It was just that the road went a long way in both directions and Ron’s advice on getting to his house had been rather vague. Like he’d only really seen the surrounding countryside from the air. Harry folded the letter away and shrugged, there was always another way. He walked over to a where a farmer was sitting near his tractor, fiddling with something in the engine.

“Hi. I’m looking for the family of ginger people who keep owls as pets.”

“Down the lane, turn left at the co-op.” The man said without looking up. “And tell the man I need my wrench back.”

*

Harry had to resist the urge to break into a run as he caught sight of the Weasley house. Outside it in the overgrown garden he could see three boy working, flinging something he couldn’t make out over the garden wall. Harry smiled, they were expecting him today but he hadn’t exactly been able to give them an exact time. As he walked closer the door to the house opened and Molly Weasley (Ron had told him all about his family) emerged, carrying a tray with drinks on it. Behind her a young girl (must be Ginny) stepped outside and leaned against the doorpost looking bored. None of them seemed to have noticed him yet, or maybe the tan had changed his appearance a bit. As he stepped up to the front gate he spread his arms wide.

“Aloha!”

“Harry!” Ron jumped in surprise “You‘re here.” The twins jumped up too and ran to meet him, but the most extreme reaction came from the youngest Weasley. Ginny went dead white under her hair and her mouth seemed to move as if she was trying to say something then she bolted through the still open door.

“She has some sort of objection to aloha?” Harry asked the ginger crowd.

“Nah, mate.” Ron shook his head. “She‘s been jumping and squeaking every time we so much as mentioned your name. Guess you in the flesh was just too much for her.”

“Ron, be nice to your sister.” Mrs Weasley’s voice was stern for a moment then turned soft again as she turned back to Harry. “She‘s just shy Harry. I‘m sure she‘ll get over it the more she sees of you.”

“Probably.” Agreed Harry “The hero thing doesn‘t last. I‘ve been told on repeated occasions that I‘m a massive disappointment.”

“Who told you that?” Molly Weasley looked aghast.

“Snape.”

“Yeah but he said you had floberworms for brains too.” Said Ron. “And we’re fairly sure that’s not true.”

“Right.” Chimed in one of the twins. “We‘re pretty certain they‘re doxy droppings.”

“At least that’s up the evolutionary scale.”

*

But Ginny’s odd behaviour didn’t stop. Harry found that she was incapable of staying in a room that he was in and that any attempt to speak directly to her was enough to send her scurrying away. One morning when he came down and found her curled up on the sofa with a magazine he decided to put a stop to it.

“Ginny.” She stiffened and looked like she was about to flee. “Don’t run away please.” He walked around and sat next to her on the couch. She looked like a small rodent confronted by a snake, eyes wide open and too scared to run. “Can you tell me why you run every time I try to talk to you or enter the room?” Silence, except for the twitching she could have been petrified. “Look Ginny I don’t know what it is but could you please talk to me. We‘re going to be going to school together for the next six years. Could you talk to me. Please.”

“Y… you…” Harry had to strain to hear her faint whisper. “you destroyed you-know-who.”

“Oh you‘re still thinking about that?” Harry waved his hand dismissively. “That happened ages and ages ago. No one cares about that. Apparently Markus Mandy Michelson is everyone’s hero now.”

“You‘ve got the scar.”

“I‘ve got a lot of scars. Which one in specific?” Ginny reached out to point at his forehead and Harry brushed away the hair to reveal the scar. But apparently this was too much for Ginny and she bolted up the stairs almost knocking over Ron.

“What‘s that about?” He asked sleepily.

“She‘s still shy around me. That sucks.”

“Why are you so messed up about it.” Ron asked. Then looked up as if he remembered something. “You were acting like this about Hermione too, last year. Back before she liked us.”

“And that turned out OK.”

“You‘re not gonna climb up a chimney again are you Harry?”

“No Ron but I think I do think I need to take drastic action to correct this situation.” Harry thought for a moment then latched onto a brilliant plan. An amazing plan. Possibly the greatest plan he had ever devised. “You have a few brooms here right?”

“Five last time I looked. My old one, the twins, Percy’s and one Charlie left here.”

“Excellent. I would like to play some Quidditch.”

“But Harry you can‘t play Quidditch. The last time you got on a broom you made a complete fool of yourself.”

“Exactly!”

*

This was the worst plan he had ever come up with.

“You have to follow through.” Ron made a jabbing motion with the flat of his hand. That meant follow through Harry knew, the hand signals were about all he‘d picked up during the game. “Just concentrate on following through. That was the problem that time.”

“No Ron, the problem was that I flew into a tree.” Harry tumbled to the ground and spat out a leaf. “What’s the signal for ‘You’re about to fly into a tree‘?”

“There isn‘t one, we’d have to invent it just for you.” Ron helped him back on his broom and they flew back up to join the twins. Ginny was sitting a little ways away watching them, when Harry had fallen out of the tree she had jumped up in shock. But as Ron and the twins had begun laughing at him he had seen a shadow of a smile cross her face as well. That shadow was all that was keeping him from giving up the entire endeavour and getting his feet back on solid ground.

“Right.” Ron said as they hovered at their end of the pitch. “You make for the right hand side. I‘ll pull them off to the left then pass it to you. Then you can score. Got it?”

“Aye aye Captain!” Harry saluted and almost overbalanced.

“Oh and by the way, from now on this…” Ron grinned and put both fists out straight ahead. “… from now on that means tree.”

“I would punch you Ron, but I‘d fall off if I tried.” Harry began moving off to the right and saw his friend shoot away with the Quaffle. After a moment Ron turned and chucked it ahead of him. He rushed forward to catch it, fumbled it, then snagged it in one hand.

“I got it! I got…” Thump!

Harry struck the ground hard and rolled to a stop in the long grass.

“Ow.” Harry put his hand to the back of his head and sat up. Looking right into the face of Ginny Weasley. She had run over to see if he was alright and now stood, wide eyed before him.

“There didn‘t used to be four of you.” Harry pointed at her with a shaking hand. “Stop being four of you, person… girl… Where am I?” Harry blinked and looked around blurrily. A small noise brought him back to the present and he looked forward. Ginny had her hand over her mouth and was trying hard not to laugh. Little sounds kept escaping like steam out of a kettle.

“You‘ve got steam in your mouth!” Harry tried to get up and fell back on his behind. “Like water but… broken. Where are my glasses? The four of you should be able to find them.” And with that Ginny burst out laughing.

The four Weasley’s carried him off the pitch and Fred and George (who seemed to have experience with head injuries for some reason) pronounced him fine.

“Maybe we should take a break.” Ron said worriedly. “You know, give him time to recover.”

“Better idea.” Harry tossed his broom to Ginny. “You take my spot. I am never ever ever ever ever ever getting on one of those again. From now on I walk where I need to go.”

“Hey! I don’t want her on my team.” Ron said angrily. “That‘s not fair when we’re already behind!”

“Ron…” Harry pitched his voice to match Mrs Weasley’s “Be nice to your sister! And besides, your choices are me or her.”

“Welcome to the team Ginny.”

*

“See! No one can beat my team!” Harry grinned and slapped his chest as the game drew to an official close.

“What do you mean your team.” Ginny glided past him smiling and laughing. “When you went off you were eight goals down. How can you say you won?”

“The team won.” Harry explained with sweeping hand gestures. “And we all played a part in that.”

“And your part is?”

“Cheerleader. I really should get some pompoms.”
________________________________________


Note: Right, thats the second year started.

Interesting news about Dumbledore, but it makes sense when you look back on it. Does kind of make it more tragic however. The champion of accepting people for who they were died without ever himself being accepted. He probably never even told anyone. The bit about how he didn't move against Grindlewald was interesting too and puts the whole thing in a new light. What if Grindlewald was well aware of Dumbledores feelings and used him to gain power in safety? Knowing full well that Dumbledore was the only one who could have posibly stopped him. Ah well...

This is why we need JK Rowling to write some prequels.

________________________________________
#include "standard_legal_disclamer.h"

Ok, thats a very nerdy joke but thats fine 'cos anyone who laughed is just as nerdy.
________________________________________





Kings cross was crowded beyond belief as the Weasley clan crossed the station towards platform nine and three quarters.

“Hurry up.” Mrs Weasley herded her various charges towards the barrier. “Right. Come everyone, while the muggles aren’t looking.” One by one the redheads shot through the barrier. Harry waited until last, as the summer had drawn to a close he had wondered if perhaps he might not be let back into the school. He had got the book list but perhaps that had been automatic.

“You go first. I‘m fine.” Harry motioned Mrs Weasley ahead of him. “I want to enjoy my last moment of freedom.” She disappeared through the barrier and Harry took a deep breath. There wasn’t much more he could do to put this off. He started running forwards, lowered his head and closed his eyes as he reached the barrier.

Crack! Harry bounced back and fell to the ground gasping. The barrier hadn’t opened! He put his hand to his forehead and it came back bloody. His mind reeled.

“They don’t want me back.” Harry blinked and looked up at the clock. Less than a minute till the train was supposed to leave. “They expelled me.”

Harry stayed on the floor despite the odd looks he was getting. There didn’t seem to be much point in getting up. The clock ticked over the hour. The train was leaving.

Harry looked down platform ten and thought he saw a wisp of smoke rise from beyond the tracks. Where was the wizards platform anyway? A mad idea struck Harry and he was stood back up in a flash. His feet seemed to move of their own accord and he took first one then another halting step along the platform. Another wisp of smoke. He broke into a run and willed his legs to carry him faster and faster.

“it’s a steam train.” Harry dodged past a startled conductor at the end of the platform and jumped down onto the tracks. “It takes a while to speed up.” He pumped his legs for extra speed.

“Digger!” Harry reached onto his backpack and flicked his owl’s cage open. “Catch me up at Hogwarts!” Harry shot to the edge of the train tracks and looked down. The normal, muggle train tracks coming out of kings cross were raised up on a sort of long bridge, raising them several stories above the city streets. Harry glanced down in time to see the end of the Hogwarts express squeeze itself out from between the bricks of the bridge and head off down a track that looked disused. Up ahead the track rose up and joined with the others, if Harry was going to do it, he‘d have to do it now.

“Please! Oh god please let me still be born lucky!” Harry prayed silently, then launched himself off the side.

He crashed into the top of the last carriage and hung onto it for dear life. The train was beginning to pick up speed and Harry crawled to the edge. Thankfully the carriages window was open. Harry swung his bag in through it then slid down into it himself.

“Harry Potter. Nice to meet you.” He said to the aghast first years who’s carriage he’d dropped into. “See you at Hogwarts!” Harry walked shakily out the door. Once he was safely in the corridor he leaned against the wall and slid down till he was on the floor. He wanted to get up and find his friends but for some reason none of his limbs seemed to work. He caught a glimpse of himself in the glass in front of him and blinked in shock. He looked a wreck! Blood ran down the left side of his face and was matted into the hair above.

“M… Mr Potter.” Harry looked around and saw the witch with the trolley standing looking at him. Harry gulped for air.

“Two cauldron cakes please.” He said, trying to think of something that would calm his nerves.

She wordlessly handed him the cakes and took the price of them without once taking her eyes off him. When he was about to leave she finally said.

“Did you… just… jump onto the train.”

“No.” Harry shook his head “No. Definitely not. You‘d have to be crazy to jump on a moving train.”

*

Harry moved down the train as quietly as he could. Trying to find his friends without drawing too much attention. Unfortunately talk travelled fast on the Hogwarts express and he couldn’t go five steps without encountering another stare or pass a group of students without them breaking out in a fit of whispering.

“So pathetic attention seeking Potter strikes again.” The voice was behind him. Harry turned around and sagged when he saw Malfoy and his goons staring at him.

“Malfoy I really don’t have the energy for this now.” It was true. Harry would have liked doing nothing more than simply collapsing on the floor there for the remainder of the journey. “Could you please, and I mean this in the nicest possible way, bugger off and die like the diseased piece of distended rectum flesh you are.”

“Big talk for a kid who can barely stand.” Malfoy took a step forward and Harry retreated. “And I don’t see your little friends here to help you today. This may just be my lucky day.” The three Slytherins advanced on him and Harry drew his wand when…

“Potter!” Harry turned and saw professor McGonagall standing in the carriage. Malfoy and his bodyguards disappeared through a door. “How in Merlin‘s name did you get here?” She grabbed him and pulled out her wand, touching it calmly to the cut on his head then whisking away the blood on his face. “I just spent an unpleasant few minutes arguing with Molly Weasley who was franticly trying to get us to stop the train. She seemed to be under the impression that the barrier had sealed with you on the other side.”

“It did.” Harry nodded. “That’s how I hurt my head.”

“But then. How did you get here?”

“You honestly, really and truly don’t want to know.”

“Harry…”

“I jumped onto the train.”

“YOU JUMPED ONTO THE TRAIN!”

“The barrier had sealed up! There wasn‘t any other way! And besides, I had a head injury. I‘m not sure I was in an entirely rational frame of mind.”

“That is beside the point Mr Potter, but after the stunt you pulled at the end of last year I suppose I should not be entirely surprised.” She straightened up “We will have to discuss this further in my office at Hogwarts. At the very least you will receive several days detention.”

“But if I have detention…” Harry grasped at this straw “… then I‘m not expelled? Right?”

“No Mr Potter. Not this time.” She began walking away down the train. “Go to my office when we reach Hogwarts.”

“After the sorting?”

“As soon as you reach the castle.”

“Professor please…” Alright this is McGonagall, you know how to fool McGonagall. She acts tough but she’s all mushy inside. “… my friend’s sister’s getting sorted today and she‘s worried about it. All her brothers are in Gryffindor, whole family really. I should be there for her. Please?”

“Alright Mr Potter. After the sorting.” McGonagall’s eyes had gotten softer as Harry had spoken. “But before the feast.”

“Of course Professor. I‘ll be there.”

“And I will owl Mrs Weasley to inform her you are safe.” She turned away and Harry was left alone once again in the corridor.

*

Harry eventually found the Marauders compartment and slid the door open.

“Hello freindlies!”

“Harry!” Hermione’s mouth dropped open. “Ron said you couldn‘t get onto the platform!”

“Couldn’t.” Harry noticed Ginny sitting quietly in the corner of the compartment. Ron had probably been told to keep an eye on her. “Had to acquire entry to the train by… other means.”

“Apparation?” Padma had apparently also caught some sun over the summer, though it was less noticeable on her. “You do know that’s illegal.”

“Couldn‘t care less. But no.”

“Portkey?” Neville seemed to think for a moment. “Or a broom?”

“No.” Ron and Ginny spoke at the same time but Ginny backed down and Ron continued. “Harry swore blind he‘d never touch another broom.”

“Oh god I know what it is.” Parvarti put her hand to her mouth and began shaking her head. “I was talking to Lavender down the other end of the train. I thought she was joking.”

“What is it?” Hermione asked and the marauders seemed to hang waiting for the answers.

“You jumped onto the top of the train.” The marauders turned as one to look at him.

“Maybe.” None of his friends seemed to want to speak.

“Harry...” Neville broke the silence. “…you‘re crazy.”

“I know.” Harry sat as the other snapped out of their shock and started speaking all at once. “It‘s beginning to worry me.”

*

The train meandered its long journey through the hills and Harry ducked out of the conversations around him. His head still hurt and he didn’t have the energy to entertain people. He leaned against the cold window as rain started to streak down, leaving little trails on the window pane. He closed his eyes and lay there for a long while. Little trails of water, swirling, drowning.

“Harry.” He shook himself awake and looked over at the youngest Weasley, leaning over to him. “Are you alright?” Harry looked around the compartment, the rest of his friends were still talking amongst themselves. “You‘re face was all scrunched up like you were dreaming.”

“Oh, are we there yet.” Harry kind of wanted to get back to sleep. Even if it was to bad dreams.

“Not for a while.” Ginny bit her lip worriedly. Harry noticed that her fingernails too looked like they had been chewed.

“Worried?” Harry grinned as she jerked in surprise. Harry waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry. You‘ll love it there. Lessons are easy, specially charms. Friends everywhere. Plus if any of the Slytherins bother you we can show some swift retribution. We’re feared by that house.”

“That‘s kind of what I‘m worried about.” Ginny glanced at the red edges on Harry’s robes.

“Ah.” Thought Harry. “My guess was right, and I just made that up to soften up McGonagall.”

“You‘re worried about the sorting.” Harry said out loud. “Want to be Gryffindor?”

“Yes. If I don’t my brothers ‘ll never forgive me.”

“Then tell it so.” Harry looked at the young girls startled expression. “You know what the sorting hat is right?” nod. “Then tell it you want to be a Gryffindor. Don’t take no for an answer. It’s your life, don’t let a hat make decisions for you.” Harry leaned back down and closed his eyes again.

*

“What the hell?” Ron voiced what they were all thinking as the marauders moved away from the train at Hogsmead. Ginny had left to take her little boat ride and the six friends now stood in front of a line of carriages, each drawn by a thin scaly horse with folded leathery wings. “Charlie told me the carriages pulled themselves?”

“Maybe they’ve changed since your brothers day.” Said Harry climbing into one of them. “And besides…” He looked around “No one else seems to think anything’s amiss.”

“Still think this is weird.”

*

Ginny Weasley stood fidgeting in front of the hall as the sorting hat finished its song. She was so nervous she wanted to bite her nails despite the face they were already worn to the pith. Well, at least she was a Weasley. Her name would be called near to last. She saw Harry on the Gryffindor table spinning three forks in the air in front of him. She tried to catch his eye but failed, he was talking to his real friends. Everyone began to pay attention as Dumbledore stood up.

“Before we begin the sorting I‘d like to announce two things. One is that, despite what this empty chair seems to indicate, we have found a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.” Ginny looked along the teachers table and saw a lank-haired professor grimace. She giggled, that must be professor Snape. “Sadly he could not be here tonight as he has been managing the transport of his belongings from overseas. Rest assured that he has my full confidence and he will introduce himself, probably at length…” did the lank-haired professor just grimace even more? “…in your first lesson with him tomorrow. Now the second thing is that we will be doing this years sorting backwards.”

“What?” That prompted a murmuring about the hall.

“Yes, call it an old mans fancy. Now let us continue so that we can enjoy a brilliant feast after we are all done.” Dumbledore sat back down but the murmuring hadn’t ceased. McGonagall then took her place, the expression on her face clearly showing that the Headmaster had not discussed this with her. She looked down at her paper and read…

“Weasley, Ginevra.”

“What! Oh…” Ginny thought as she walked out in front of the school. “Backwards…” The last thing she saw before she pulled the hat down over her eyes were the Marauders turning to watch her.

“Another Weasley, seems I see those on almost a yearly basis. But a Weasley girl? Why I haven’t seen one like you in…”

“I chose Gryffindor.” It seemed to her that the hat gasped loudly all around her.

“That’s not quite how it works Weasley girl.”

“No. That is how it works. Harry told me I could choose my house. I want to be in Gryffindor.”

“Quite brave of you to just shout it out it like that. Almost forces me to pick Gryffindor.” Shout it out?…Oh god!

“Ah… You didn‘t realise you were speaking out loud?”
Ginny lifted the brim of the hat just enough to see around the Hall. There was whispering everywhere, and every face had an identical visage of shocked astonishment. Her eyes searched out her brothers at the Gryffindor table. Percy had buried his face in his hands and seemed to be trying to pretend it all wasn’t happening, Fred and George were watching her with huge evil grins and Ron, Ron just looked confused. Her eyes flickered past Ron to Harry and their gazes locked, then the boy did the oddest thing, he pulled up his sleeve, put his hand palm out and jabbed forward.

Follow through

Ginny glanced back at the teachers table, where every face mirrored the astonishment of the students. She glanced back to Harry and he jabbed again. Well, if she was gonna follow through then there was only one thing for it...

“Yep.” She said, trying to not have her voice break out in whimpers. “Definitely Gryffindor.” And with that she pulled the hat off her head, set it down on the chair and walked steadily towards Harry. She blanked out everything else in the hall, the whispers rising, the teachers, everything. There was a seat next to Harry and she was sitting in it. She reached the bench and hopped onto it, everyone was looking at her.

“Stay perfectly calm.” Harry’s voice but she swore his lips barely moved. “Look straight ahead and don’t give them any sign they’re getting to you.” Easy for him to say! She stayed exactly where she was as the silence crawled on. Then something touched her hand by her side. A candy of some kind. Without a word, and before the silent stares of the whole hall, she brought out, unwrapped and calmly ate a liquorice wand.

Every eye in the hall turned as they heard McGonagall clear her throat then…

“Kingston, Victor.”

It was as if the hall had been holding its breath the entire time and now let it out in a wave of chatter. Ginny felt someone clap her on the back and looked sideways into Harry’s face.

“Thank you.” Ginny breathed through the noise. “I didn‘t know what to do. I didn’t even realise I was talking out loud.”

“Figured as much.” Harry said glibly and offered her another liquorice wand. “Good thing I was paying attention, who the hell is Ginevra Weasley?”

The small boy with exquisitely waxed hair and sunglasses apparently named Victor Kingston had reached the hat and was looking down at it worriedly. He looked like he was about to pick it up then looked at the tables in the hall.

“Ravenclaw. I think I like Ravenclaw.”

“On the plus side you may have started a revolution.” Harry had leaned in to talk to her again. “On the minus McGonagall’s gonna kill you…”

A vague looking girl was now looking at the hat thoughtfully before declaring that she was going to “The red haired girl’s house.”

“Are you our new house mascot Ginny?” Fred leaned over and grinned at his sister.

“We could make up some new banners if you like.” His twin leaned in from the other side of the table.

“Leave her twins.” Harry was holding her by both shoulders away from her older brothers. “She tricked the hat, swindled McGonagall, caused a cross house revolution and all in front of the entire school!” Harry grabbed her and hugged her from behind. “You can‘t have her! She‘s ours!”

“What’s he talking about.” Ginny didn’t think she could grin more than she was as she shot the question at her brother across the table. But it was Parvarti Patil who answered her.

“He means that you‘re the type of person who goes for what they want and has the nerve to see it through and doesn‘t care what the rules say or who thinks what!” She stuck out her hand “Welcome to the Marauders.”

By the end of the day Ginervrador House (as it was briefly called) had an unusually large class of first years. Filch had to move some of the beds.

*

As Harry trudged back from his first detention with McGonagall that night (polishing hundreds and hundreds of brass buttons that were just going to be transfigured into beetles anyway) he leaned on the wall near the portrait hole and closed his eyes for a moment.

“Harry Potter sir!”

Harry opened his eyes and immediately realised his head injury must have been worse than he thought. The Hallucination had long pointy ears and was wearing some sort of ragged cloth like a toga.

“Wha…?”

“Harry Potter should never have got on the train!”

“Who?” Harry shook his head but the small figure remained “What and/or who are you? ”

“Dobby sir. Dobby the house elf.” The odd little creature bowed to him, its nose almost touching the floor. “Dobby is truly sorry to have caused trouble for such a great wizard as Harry Potter. But Harry Potter must leave Hogwarts!”

“Caused trouble? What trouble?” Harry slid off the wall and stood straight. His wand was inconveniently tucked in an inside pocket, hard to reach. Was this creature a threat? “What are you talking about?”

“Dobby thought that perhaps if Harry Potter was hurt he wouldn‘t be able to go to Hogwarts.”

“What precisely…” Harry heavily enunciated the word “… are you talking about.”

“Dobby thought that if the platform closed…”

“That was you!” Harry snapped forward like a shot and caught the little creature by the arms. The thing whined and tried to break away but he held on. “I could have missed the bloody train!” The creature nodded and whimpered a little more. “I could have been killed! Wait… knockturn alley…” Harry remembered the rubber wall. The elf stiffened again and he seemed to be avoiding Harry’s eyes. “That was you as well! Why WHY!” He picked the thing up and shook it roughly. “Are you trying to kill me? Are you?” The elf was truly crying now and Harry let him go. The pitiful thing crawled away from Harry and sat on the floor, looking up at him with its huge, tear filled eyes. It looked like a kicked puppy.

“Look, I‘m sorry.” Harry reached out towards the elf but it shied away. “I didn‘t mean to hurt you. The hospital wing isn‘t far, can I…”

“No!” Dobby’s face became a mask of fear. “Dobby cannot be seen. Dobby‘s masters can never know. Dobby isn‘t hurt, Dobby gets far worse than this at home. Dobby’s masters are…” the elf seemed to stiffen for a moment then he rushed over to the wall and began hitting his head on it hard.

“Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!”

“Wait! Hey, Stop!” Harry was torn between the need to stop it hurting itself and trying to avoid grabbing it again since he’d obviously hurt him. He pulled his robe off, quickly balled it up and (between head bounces) slid it between Dobby and the wall. The poor elf continued on for a couple of hits, apparently not realising he was now cushioned, then dropped to the floor.

“Thank you sir.” The elf’s voice was a little quaky. “Dobby almost spoke ill of his masters.”

“Dobby…” Harry saw a need to tread carefully here. “If, IF remember! Hypothetically I asked who your masters were. Would you have to punish yourself?” The elf quickly nodded.

“If I asked you to write it?” nod.

“If I asked you to act it out like charades?” The elf appeared to think about this, cocking its head to the side. Then he nodded.

“If I asked you to tell me why you want me to leave Hogwarts?” the elf’s head stayed very still. “How much can you tell me without having to punish yourself?”

“Danger. Dobby knows that danger has come to Hogwarts. Death…”

“If I asked you whether your masters were involved?” Dobby tensed like a rod. “Just IF remember, if I asked you that would you have to punish yourself?”

Dobby nodded. Harry smiled, that meant his masters were involved. Otherwise why would he be forbidden to tell anyone?

“And is I asked what form the danger would take?”

But at this Dobby shook his head furiously and put his hands over his ears. The poor elf began rocking backwards and forwards and keening.

“It‘s OK Dobby. You don’t have to tell me.” The rocking stopped and the elf uncurled.

“Harry Potter will leave Hogwarts?”

“No. But I will be careful, very careful.”

“Harry Potter must leave, Harry Potter is in danger.”

“I usually am Dobby.” Harry leaned forward conspiratorially. “That just makes it more fun.”
________________________________________




Please review, especially if you think it's bad. Really, it'll help me improve.

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“Wonder if he‘s cute?” Parvarti wondered quizzically as the second years wandered to the defence against the dark arts classroom. They had the class first period Monday, so would be the first to meet the new teacher. “Dumbledore said he‘s foreign, so I bet he‘s cute.”

“I just wonder if he‘ll be a good teacher.” Hermione hung her head a little. “After a year of… of bad teaching we need to catch up. We‘ll be lucky if we can make it up in time for the OWLs.” Harry could tell she had been about to say Quirrell, but had stopped herself. As far as he could tell none of his friends wanted to think about the events at the end of last year.

“Well, so long as he only has one face, I‘ll be happy.” Harry stuck his hands behind his head and laughed. “Right?” The others stopped for a moment, then grinned with him. “Thought so. Anyway…” Harry was the first to the door and pushed it open. “… after Quirrell we can‘t do much worse can we?”

“Pipsqueak! Told you I‘d see you again!”

“No…” Harry looked across the room at Markus Maximus Michelson “…please no…”

“Take a seat up front my good lad! I can already tell this is going to be one of your favourite classes!” The marauders filed in the front row and the other student moved in behind them. All of them looking a little apprehensively at the booming muscled figure in front of them.

“The name’s Professor Markus Triple-M Michelson. I‘ll be your Defence against the dark arts teacher this year. Thought I‘d take a break from the globe-trotting to pass on some of my knowledge to the next generation!” He swept his hat off and spun it across the room, it landed neatly on top of a suit of armour. “ Oh and by the way the Ms stand for Maximus, Mighty and Magesto but they might as well stand for Muscular, Magical and most of all Masculine!” He laughed and put his fists on his hips. “So, on to the Matriculation!” He grabbed the register off the table and began yelling out names, variously chuckling at the odd names and winking at any girl who answered him quickly. When he got to Potter he said

“Know you‘re here Pipsqueak! Don’t need to even ask!” then went on. Harry dreaded looking backwards but did so anyway. Near the back Draco Malfoy looked at him and mouthed the word pipsqueek then sneered. Harry groaned, he‘d never hear the end of this.

When the register was finished the professor strode up to the front of the class. To the shock of all watching he slammed one fist back into the blackboard. Words jumped off the surface as if they had been jolted into being.

“Duelling!” The professor said and indeed this was the title on the board. “Who here has cast something harsher than jelly-legs at another wizard?”

A few hands went up around the class, including Harry’s. Neville gulped and tried to hold his hand as low as possible, but Padma took it and jerked it up.

“You there!” Markus pointed to Neville. Padma giggled. “What have you used?”

“Full Body Bind sir.” Neville appeared to be wishing he had a hole to crawl into.

“Good! Good solid spell! Incantation, for those who don’t know is Petrificus Totalus. And who did you use it on?”

“McGonagall.”

“Mc…McGonagall?” A nervous titter of laughter ran around the classroom. “Right, OK. Um… Anyone else?” He pointed at Harry, “How bout you pipsqueak?”

“Acerbus cuspis.”

“The pain-spear spell.” The teacher stopped moving and turned back towards Harry. “A curse originating in the time of the inquisition, considered by many to be Dark Magic?”

“Er…”

“And who did you use it on?”

“Quirrell.”

“Right OK.” Michelson shook his head. “Before we dredge up any more assaults against Hogwarts teachers lets start on something else. Who here knows what a shield charm is?” Many of the hands went down (though not of course, Hermione’s) “Right! we’ll start there.”

*

The class let out an hour later. Many of the students had the after-effects of minor jinxes and hexes on them from when their shields hadn’t been good enough or when their opponents had been too good. Professor Michelson seemed to think all of it extremely funny and laughed outrageously at every furiously-dancing, uncontrollably-coughing or unnaturally-warty student before cancelling their affliction and sending them on their way. Half way through the class he had picked Harry to demonstrate some more serious hexes to the class. Harry‘s shield charm wasn‘t nearly good enough and he ended up suffering for every spell that winged his way.

“I hate him! I hate that muscle-head bastard!” Harry ranted as they walked to history of magic. “He knows my name and he keeps calling me pipsqueak! He singles me out! He will pay for this! Right?”

The other marauders kept a safe distance, giggling behind their hands.

“You know Harry, he seems to be a pretty good teacher.” Hermione said. Harry rounded on her. “I mean, some adult wizards can’t do shield charms and he managed to get half the class doing them in just one lesson.”

“He keeps calling me short!” Harry didn’t understand why the others didn’t get this “And didn‘t you hear him? Mighty, Majestic, Mouldering… He loves himself!”

“Well…” Parvarti chipped in “He is cute.” Harry’s face became stony and dark. “And he… winked at me.”

“You‘ll see.” Harry turned and began back towards the history of magic classroom “You‘ll all see! After you meet him a few times you‘ll agree with me about Markus Mary Michelson!”

*

But they didn’t.

Defence Against the Dark Arts quickly became the most looked forward to lesson by the entire school. Every few lessons Markus Michelson would introduce a new combat spell and work with them, pulling them with laughs, belittlement and encouragement, to perfect the spell. From disarming and stunning through to shields and self-defence he taught everything with an identical laugh and identical arrogant attitude. Harry remained sullen and silent in these lessons especially when the inevitable happened and he was called up to help demonstrate a new spell. He had tried to get the marauders riled up to play a prank on Professor Michelson but they had flatly refused. Harry had to content himself with dropping potion on a group off Slytherins that gave them oozing boils. It had been quiet complex, whoever the pus hit when the boils exploded developed them as well.

It was on his way back from heavy detention that he heard someone yell. Harry saw a first year rush past him upstairs and followed him, towards the noise. A group of students were gathered on the third floor. Harry pushed through them without a thought and stopped at the front to see a horrific sight. Painted on the wall in what looked like blood were the words…

Arise those of ancient blood! Cast out the impure from this house of our fathers! Be true to your bloodline! Destroy the enemies of the heir! This is the call to arms!

Harry glanced to his side, lined up next to one another stood a group of Slytherins. Malfoy, Goyle and Flint stood side by side, each wearing identical expressions of Glee.

On the floor in front of the letters crouched poor Victor Kingston, the kid who’d liked the look of Ravenclaw, curled up in fear behind his sunglasses.

Harry moved closer on instinct and put his fingers to the boys neck.

“What are you doing?” A voice behind him hissed but he ignored them.

“He doesn‘t have a pulse.” Harry murmured, trying to move his fingers around for a better feel. “No pulse. Get Madam Pomfrey! Get Dumbledore!”

“Both are here Harry.” Harry looked up to see the Headmaster walk to the edge of the crowd. He stood back gratefully as the school nurse went to work.

“Is he… dead?” An older Ravenclaw at the edge of the circle asked and a whisper of breathless shock swept the crowd.

“No.” Professor Dumbledore said calmly “He appears to have been petrified.”

“Will he recover?” Harry noticed that the Ravenclaw was a prefect, she had probably known Victor.

“Yes Miss Clearwater. I think so, in time.” Tension seemed to go out of the group but the prefect pressed on.

“Professor…” She glanced up at the writing on the wall. “Victor was a muggleborn, do you think that there‘s any danger?”

“I am sure I can trust every student here to act in a way that does not dishonour the good name of this school.”

“Yeah right.” Harry thought and glanced back at Malfoy and the other Slytherins. “Seems a war’s been called. People are already choosing sides.”

*

The first attack happened just the next morning. Hannah Abbot was found with a broken arm at the bottom of the steps leading down to the Hufflepuff common room. Her bag and books strewn haphazardly at the top. She’d been coming up from the cellar early to get breakfast and been pushed back down.

Professor sprout took her to the hospital wing. But no one had seen what happened, not even Hannah, and no matter how much they asked the Professors couldn’t find who had done it.

The next day a group of Slytherins cornered a first year in one of the upper corridors and began hexing him over and over. Only Flitwick happening past had stopped worse happening.

In a matter of weeks it was no longer safe for a muggleborn or half-blood student to be out on their own. Madam Pomfrey was being worked of her feet by the stream of injuries coming into her care.

Then, one morning, Oliver Wood the Gryffindor Quidditch captain was petrified in the prefects bathroom. The teachers had tried to keep a lid on it but the words that had been scrawled on the walls somehow got out.

Mudbloods and blood-traitors cower in fear! The heir of Slytherin returns and the chamber has been opened. Rise up around his standard! Spill the spoilt blood on the ground!

“It‘s getting worse.” Harry said as they walked towards their next class. “I mean just look!” He gestured out the window.

There was a huddle of students scurrying along the wall and slipping in a door. A moment later a group of Slytherins hurried into the courtyard with their with wands out.

“Harry no!” Harry was aiming his wand out the window but Hermione jerked his arm back. “If we start fighting back things will escalate! We have to let the teachers handle it.”

“They can‘t.” Padma said dully as they passed the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom “Not on this scale.” Her sister nodded silently. Her normally cheerful mood dulled.

“Padma‘s right Hermione.” Ron shook his head. “Things are just getting worse and besides, we can‘t afford to lose any more Quidditch players.”

“Is that all you care about!”

“I just meant…”

“Shut up.” Harry snapped back at them irritably. “Quidditch is about as much use as you two bickering when things are going to hell all around us. We‘ve got to do something.”

“But what?” Padma said, shaking her head. “This isn‘t like Quirrell Harry. There‘s no evil genius behind it. Its half the school, trying the kill the other half and we don’t know till too late which is which.”

“With some we got a pretty good idea.” Harry murmured darkly as they passed a group of Slytherins. The Marauders curled around Hermione like a human shield as they passed and only spread back out after they had gone. A second later Harry’s wand vibrated in his pocket. “Damn it!” Harry motioned the others to quiet and the sound of hexing could be heard above them. They broke into a run towards the nearest stair.

*

“Leave him alone!” Ginny’s own voice sounded shrill in her ears. She stepped in front her injured friend and tried to swallow her fear.

“What? Protecting your mudblood boyfriend traitor?” Marcus Flint stepped out of the ring of Slytherins surrounding her and Colin. “Step aside for me. I‘d rather not spill wizard blood, even your families, unless I have to.”

“Mico Harry.” Ginny whispered, holding her wand out in front of her. Hoping he was in range. “Mico Harry.”

“Your boyfriend doesn‘t look up to much.” Flint said stepping closer and eyeing the quivering Gryffindor. “Maybe you want a real man?”

“Mico Ron. Mico Hermione.”

“What’s that?” Flint leant forward to hear. “That supposed to be a hex? Ha! What‘s it do?” Flint laughed and his cohorts around him started laughing too.

“It summons demons!”

As Marcus’ head jerked up a bludgeoning hex struck him in the chest. He was thrown back and his friends drew their wands as the marauders rushed them from the stairwell.

*

Harry was the first to admit that he probably wasn’t destined to be a duellist. His first strike against the seventh year had been lucky and he now found himself shielding for his life in the middle of a war-zone. Other students from other houses had been drawn in or joined in or been pushed in by the crowd and now the corridor was filled with flashing lights and cries of pain.

“You‘re dead Potter. Oh you‘re dead.” Flint advanced on him and Harry ducked behind a statue as the big Slytherins curse smashed into the ground near his feet. A second one smacked into the stone wizard and it began to topple over. Harry scrambled out as it crashed to the floor and jabbed his wand at his assailant.

“Expelliarmus!” The spell struck Flint but his thick, sausage-like fingers were curled tightly around his wand.

“Confringo!” Harry leapt out of the way of the blasting curse and fell badly on his shoulder. He threw his own back in answer and the snake stumbled backwards. Harry jumped to his feet and shot a bludgeoning hex only to have it rebound off a shield and smack him in the chest. Tumbling backwards he landed on his back among the debris. His wand skittered off along the floor. A shadow fell over him and a huge booted foot slammed onto his chest, holding him down.

“Hello Potter.” Flint pointed his wand at Harry’s face. “Now I‘m gona have some fun.”

A moment later Flint was thrown off him as a sweeping wave of light shot through the corridor, forcibly pulling opponents apart.

Harry’s hand darted out and grabbed his wand while he looked for the source of the spell. His eyes found Albus Dumbledore standing at the end of the corridor with several other teachers behind him.

“Is any student here injured or in need of the hospital wing?” His voice was stony as he eyed the assembled students. A few students raised their hands. Dumbledore nodded and turned to speak to the teachers behind him. “Please escort them there.” No one spoke as the wounded were gathered up. Harry saw Markus Michelson handing Ginny her bag with one hand while picking Colin up in his other. As Professor McGonagall walked past him he caught her eyes for a moment, they were cold, harsh and disappointed. When the last of the injured were gone the Headmaster turned back to the remaining students.

“Now can anyone tell me why this happened? Why Hogwarts students saw fit to turn this corridor into a battleground?” He looked over the students and Harry realised that he and Flint were right out in the middle, the two of them surrounded by emptiness. Somehow the ringleaders had been singled out. “Why students who I thought I could trust to act in good faith instead acted like fools?”

No one spoke. No one wanted to draw attention to themselves.

“You will all return to your common rooms now. Tomorrow morning you will all come to the great hall where you will spend your Saturday in silence. You will return the day after that and for many weekends to come until I decide that the peace and quiet of the school has returned. Your parents will also be informed of your disappointing behaviour.” Dumbledore gestured at the children. “Go off now. Not you Harry!” Harry was drawn back by Dumbledore’s voice. Marcus Flint smirked at him with his troll-like smile and slinked off. Harry followed the Headmaster in silence as he turned and walked off through the school. He stopped before a gargoyle on the second floor.

“Sherbet Lemon.” The childish password seemed oddly out of kilter with the situation. They remained silent as they were raised up by the staircase and walked out into the Headmasters office.

Harry glanced around in wonder at the odd silver machines, many moving or making soft sounds, filling tables around the edges of the office. His eyes were drawn to the perch behind the desk where a tired looking red bird sat. Even as Harry watched another of its feathers fell off and twirled towards the floor.

Dumbledore caught it before it hit and slipped it into an inside pocket of his robes. He turned and sat behind the heavy desk. Saying nothing, he regarded the student before him over steepled fingers.

Harry knew that with any other teacher this was the time to be quiet and look guilty, but with Dumbledore he might actually be better off explaining.

“Professor.” He began and licked his dry lips. Dumbledore’s eyes flicked to his. “I heard the sounds of someone being attacked nearby and I went to see whether I could help. When we… I got there Marcus Flint and some other Slytherins had the first years surrounded.” He couldn’t tell what effect this was having on the Headmaster. His expression was inscrutable. “I fired a spell to make them back off and they responded, I never thought that so many other students would be drawn in or that it would snowball like this. I‘m sorry.”

“You cast the first hex?”

“They had been beating up Colin Creevey before we got there.” Harry felt too guilty to lie. “But I threw the first combat spell yes.”

“Several students are injured Harry.” Gods teeth the ragged bird was eyeballing him as well. “And there was some structural damage to the school. Several paintings were damaged and statues broken.”

“I was just trying to help sir. I didn’t want any of that.”

“And with this atmosphere of fear already around the school you have given everyone another reason to hate each other.” Harry felt very small in front of the continued stare. “Worse, you have escalated this problem with your actions. Next time people will be even quicker to draw wands in anger. Next time the hexes will be worse and people could be seriously injured Harry, do you understand that?”

“Yes sir.” Harry thought of Marcus Flint’s smirk. Next time they wouldn’t wait to taunt people.

“Today you chose to fight hatred with anger and violence. That way will always breed further hatred do you understand that?”

“Yes sir.”

“See that you do not repeat this mistake.”

“Yes sir. Thank you.” Harry walked out of the office. All the way to the door he could feel the old mans eyes on his back.

*

Harry walked back slowly to the Gryffindor common room. By chance the route took him back past the battleground. Some attempt had been made to clean up but the place still felt damaged. Great chunks were missing from the stone and the broken paintings had all been taken down. The passage was bare. Harry saw movement at the other end and tensed for a second, then relaxed as he saw red hair and freckles.

“Ginny?”

“Harry.” The little girl moved up the corridor towards him. Stopping just a little way down from him. “I‘m so sorry I got you into trouble. I shouldn‘t have micod for you. Hermione said you could be expelled.”

“If I was expelled every time Hermione said I would be I‘d be some sort o’ world record.” Harry walked up to his newest recruit and ruffled her hair. “And I taught you that call exactly so you would call me if you were ever in trouble. All this…” Harry waved his hand at the damage and shook his head. “Not your fault. But why are you back here? Shouldn‘t you be in the common room.”

“I was… waiting… for you.” Ginny glanced to the left and bit her lip.

“Remind me to teach you to lie convincingly Ginny.” Harry looked into her eyes. There was a surprising amount of fear there. “Why don’t you want to tell me? You don’t have to you know.”

“Lost something.” Ginny’s voice became smaller with each word she said. “A Diary. Must have fallen out in the fight.”

“Your diary‘s missing?” Harry shook his head. “Did you write anything bad in there?”

“Not my diary.”

“Whose? Nicking someone’s diary is all very marauder of you but…”

“I found it in my books before I even got here. Thought maybe it got left there.”

“Who‘s was it?”

“The front said it was Tom Marvolo Riddle‘s.” Ginny was acting almost like when he’d first met her.

“And the bit you‘re not telling me is…” He hated doing this but she was obviously hiding something.

“It was… special.” Ginny seemed to shrink into the ground a little. “It spoke to me.”

“Spoke? It could talk?”

“No, he wrote back when I wrote him things.” Ginny curled up on the floor and hugged her legs up to her chest. “It was blank but it wrote back. He was so nice. I had someone to talk to finally.”

“Someone to talk to?” Harry scratched his head. What did she mean? “You have six brothers don’t you?”

“I can’t talk to them.” Ginny began to sob a little. “They don’t understand. They laugh at me. Tom understood. And now he‘s gone. What if someone else picks him up? What if he tells them the stuff I wrote?” Ginny looked up shocked and scared and suddenly broke down into tears. Harry just stood there, he didn’t know what the hell to do.

“I mess everything up.” Ginny gulped between sobs. “I lost Tom and everyone‘s going to read him! I messed up the sorting! I started a fight and almost got you expelled!”

“Ginny listen to me.” Harry tried grabbing her shoulder but she wouldn’t look at him. With his other hand he cupped her face and brought it up so he could see her eyes. “Tom sounds like a good friend, I‘m sure you can trust him to keep your secrets. I mean, other people must have had the diary before you and Tom never told you any of their secrets right?”

Merlin’s beard, he didn’t know what he was doing. What did he know about comforting people?

“And as for this.” He pointed around the corridor. “All this we can fix. We can fix everything, don’t worry. I‘ll help you.” He was babbling, as if she’d care about the corridor.

“And…” Ginny had stopped crying at least. “You don’t hate me?” Harry shook his head.

“Only when you cry. Gryffindors don’t cry.” He regretted it as soon as he said it, that wasn’t what she needed to hear. As he had often done before Harry asked himself where Hermione was when he needed her. She would have known what to say. He smudged a sleeve against Ginny’s cheeks to get rid of the tears. At least he could do that right.

“Come on. Lets get back to the common room.” He stood up and held out a hand to her. “And as for having a friend to talk to…” He pulled her into a rough hug then let her go. “… what am I a stranger?”

“Harry.” Ginny was looking up at him now. “Why couldn’t I have had you as a brother instead of Ron?”

“Because I‘m not ginger and my skin can take a tan. Why’d you ask?” But Ginny didn’t answer him.

“She’s probably distraught.” Harry thought, putting an arm over her shoulder and walking with her towards Gryffindor tower. “I‘m no good at this sort of thing.”

________________________________________
I own none of the characters, places, ect...
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As days went by Harry found it harder and harder to keep his word to Dumbledore. Little fights were breaking out all over the school. A student could hardly go from lesson to lesson without seeing people running scared or hearing hexing.

Harry and other willing students had arranged to walk any muggleborns too and from lectures. It helped, a little, with both the students themselves and Harry’s guilt. But every time he heard cries in the distance or saw a grin on the face of a green robed student he shuddered, but kept walking. Worse it seemed like more and more students from other houses were answering the call and more and more dangerous hexes seemed to be thrown around each day. Just a few days ago Su Li had been found with deep cuts all over her, like she‘d been rolled in glass. Worse, she had been inside the ravenclaw common room.

Harry knew that he was at least partially to blame for the escalation in violence but he knew who was really to blame, Markus Michelson!

Half the spells being thrown around had been taught to them in Defence class and Professor Michelson had been pushing them, hell even encouraging them to fight. His first class had been on duelling! Harry would had pointed this to people and (even from Hermione) got grudging agreement.

It seemed that the muscle-bound teacher had realised his mistake himself. As the violence mounted the teacher had looked more and more distressed and tired. That day (for the first time ever in his class) they had taken notes from the textbook.

Harry grimaced as he looked around the classroom, a group of Slytherins with Malfoy in the centre sat near the back, with their heads together. Harry turned back to his work and shook his head.

“Maybe Dumbledore‘s wrong.” Harry looked up in shock, Neville was sitting next to him. “Maybe, you know… we should try to do something.”

“Last time we tried to get involved things went worse Neville. Much worse. I don’t want to screw up again.”

“But, we can‘t just let this go on.” Neville was looking at him a little desperately. “You‘re going to do something, right?” Harry glanced back at the group of Slytherins. They were grinning now.

“Give me an option.” Harry flipped the page on the book in front of him and dipped his quill again. “’cos I‘m fresh out of them.”

Harry felt his friend lean away from him. He had heard the quiet hope in his friends voice and felt bad for dashing it. But what could he do? He would only make things worse, he couldn’t interfere.

And he kept that promise.

For about five hours.

*

Harry closed his book and looked around the library trying to work out if it was worth checking it out. He had been considering employing some of the spells in Secrecy and Illusion to get students safely between lessons but they were irritatingly either to complex to be preformed quickly or to simple to be of use. He had been trying to find similar books in the library but the Hogwarts seemed to have very few of them.

Harry’s face twisted into a real smile for the first time in a while. It was almost like they didn’t trust the students.

He quietly decided that the book wasn’t worth it and got up. Madam Pince was hovering nearby frowning at the students cluttering up her library.

“Go on out.” She hurried Harry out and gestured at the other students. “I have to close up.”

Harry shook his head and trudged away from the musty place. It was dark already, and Harry hunched a little as he walked down the echoing corridor alone. The fact that he was this scared to be alone in the heart of Hogwarts disturbed Harry a lot. It reminded him of cold streets where you were never really safe, never well enough hidden. Harry‘s step quickened as he thought of the warmth of Gryffindor tower.

Was that a cry? Harry’s feet slowed and he moved to the side of the staircase he was on. There it was again, coming from the top of the staircase. Harry lowered himself flat to the stairs near the top and slipped a periscope out of his pocket, taking care to keep quiet he pushed it above the top step.

He could see two people cowering on the floor and three around them in a circle. One of the three moved forward, Harry groaned inwardly as the moonlight shone on Malfoy’s blond hair. That ma