Harry headed up from the dungeons towards the infirmary instead of down the hall from his father’s rooms to Arx Serpens.  He couldn’t stand to enter the common room knowing that Niamh wouldn’t be there.

It wasn’t until he was one corridor down from the infirmary that he heard the conversation.

“Two Gryffindors down, not counting a Gryffindor ghost, one Ravenclaw, and a Hufflepuff.  Haven’t any of the teachers noticed that all the Slytherins are safe?”

Harry bristled visibly and leapt around the corner, eyes flashing with wild, feral anger.

“No Slytherins, aye?  No Slytherin a’tol.  Piss and sod!”

The Weasley twin’s friend Lee Jordan (the one who had spoken) turned to stare at him.

“Harry!”

Harry bared his teeth in a parody of a grin and spat, “Aye.  Me.  Can’na talk abou’ we Slytherin ter our faces, can ye?  I though’ ye were me frien’, Lee.”

Lee looked into Harry’s fierce, angry eyes for a few seconds then turned away.  Harry sneered, “Can’na looked me in the face?  Can’na speak the truth?”

“What the hell are you talking about, snake?” spat the other Gryffindor in the group, a sixth-year.

“Niamh O’Feir is wha’ I’m talkin’ about!  Cowards!  Braggarts!  Bastards!  Ye bloody bastards!  A Slytherin lies in the Hospital Wing and ye say we ‘aven’t been touched.  Blaggards!  All the ‘Ouses blood ‘as been spilt!  Leave i’ alone!”

Harry glared at each of them then shoved past them.  He walked on to the Hospital Wing, blood boiling.  Fists clenched, he shoved past the door and a surprised Madam Pomfrey, casting a furious scowl in the mediwitch’s direction as he breezed past.  He stalked over to Niamh’s bed, threw the curtain aside, and walked in.  Flopping down in the chair sitting by the bed, he fell into a brooding state until a hand touched his shoulder a good many hours later later.

“Harry.”

Harry looked up at Ron and snarled irritably, “What?”

“Let’s go visit Hagrid.”

Harry glanced back at Niamh then turned back to Ron’s pleading face.  He nodded reluctantly and sighed, “Alrigh’.  Let me go ge’ me cloak.”

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

A half-our later the two of them were creeping over the lawn down to Hagrid’s hut in the fading light of day under Harry’s invisibility cloak.  As they walked, Ron asked, “D’you think they’ll suspect Hagrid?”

Harry shrugged, thinking of how he could see why Riddle would have turned Hagrid in.  Had he not found out that his father wasn’t really who everyone thought he was, he would have been looking forward to a lifetime with the Dursley’s as Riddle had to his Muggle orphanage.

The two of them hurried across the lawn to Hagrid’s hut, hurriedly knocking on the door.  The door flew open a moment later the two boys found themselves on the end of a crossbow.  Harry threw the cloak aside as Ron hissed, “Hagrid, its us!”

Hagrid blinked and lowered his weapon.

“What’re you two doin’ out here?”

“What’s that for?” asked Ron as they stepped inside, ignoring Hagrid’s question.

“Nothin’ – nothin’,” said Hagrid.  “Tea?”

“Did ye heard about Hermione and Niamh?” asked Harry suddenly.

“Yeh,” said Hagrid with a break in his voice, which was just the way Harry felt.

Harry and Ron then watched as Hagrid nearly extinguished the fire and smashed a cup from their seats.  Harry finally got up and made the larger man sit down then made the tea himself.  The three of them were almost finished when there was a knock at the door.

Fang leapt up from his spot at Harry’s feet as Hagrid grabbed his crossbow.  Ron chucked the other two cups into the sink as Harry grabbed the cloak and flung it over himself, pulling Ron under a moment later.  Hagrid glanced at them then rose and flung open the door.

“Good evening, Hagrid.”

Dumbledore entered the cabin, looking deadly serious.  He was followed by a very strange-looking man who had rumpled gray hair, an anxious expression and was wearing even stranger clothes; a pinstriped suit, a scarlet tie, a long black cloak, and pointed purple boots.  The thing Harry took most notice to was the lime-green bowler tucked under his arm.

Ron suddenly hissed, “That’s Dad’s boss!  Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic!”

“Shut i’!” hissed Harry, looked at Hagrid, who had gone pale and collapsed into a chair.

Fudge looked around the cabin then said, “Bad business, Hagrid.  Four attacks on Muggle-borns.  Ministry’s got to act.”

Hagrid’s eyes went wide.

“I never.”  He looked Dumbledore and continued, “You know I never, Professor Dumbledore, sir –”

“Hagrid has my full confidence, Cornelius.”

“Hagrid’s record’s against him, Albus.  The Ministry has to something –”

“I will tell you once more, Cornelius, that taking Hagrid away will not help in the slightest.”

Fudge sighed.

“I’m under a lot of pressure, Albus.  I have to do something.  If it turns out not to be Hagrid, he will be returned.  But I have to take him.”

“Take me?  Take me where?”

“Just for a short time.  A precaution, mind you, not a punishment.  If someone else is caught, you’ll be released with a full apology.”

“Azkaban?”

Harry couldn’t help but suck in a hiss of surprised breath.  He had read about Azkaban.  And its jailers.  He pitied anyone that had to go in there, whether they be innocent or guilty.  As he saw it, it was Hell on earth.

Before anyone could say anything else, there was another knock at the door.  Dumbledore answered it this time and both Harry and Ron hissed in anger.

Lucius Malfoy entered the cabin, cold gray eyes sweeping around the room and its occupants (minus the two under the invisibility cloak).  Fang began to growl and Harry fervently wished the boarhound would launch himself at the black-cloaked man’s throat.

“Ah, Fudge.  Already here I see…”

“Get outta my house!” growled Hagrid.

“Now, now,” said Lucius, “ no need for that.  I have no pleasure at all to be inside your house.  I simply called on the school and was told the headmaster was here.”

“What do you want with me, Lucius?” asked Dumbledore, eyes blazing with blue fire.

Malfoy pulled out a roll of parchment and waved it at the older wizard.

“This.  An Order of Suspension from the governors.  They feel it’s time for you to step aside.  All twelve signatures are on it.”  He shook his head in a mock sad manner and continued, “We feel you’re losing your touch.  Two more Muggle-born attacks yesterday, were there not?  At this rate, there’ll be no more Muggle-borns left at Hogwarts.  And what an awful loss that would be.”

Harry peeled his lips back from his teeth in a snarl.  “Bastard,” he hissed in a voice dripping with rage, glaring coldly at Malfoy.  Ron was too afraid of having that glare turned on him that he didn’t both to hush him.

“Now, see here, Lucius.  Dumbledore suspended – no, no – that’s the last thing…”

“The appointment – and suspension – of the headmaster is a matter for the governors, Fudge.  As Dumbledore has failed to stop these attacks…”

“If Dumbledore can’t stop these attacks, Malfoy, who can?”

“That remains to be seen.  But the twelve of us have voted…”

“An’ how many did yeh have ter threaten an’ blackmail before they agreed, Malfoy?” roared Hagrid as he leapt to his feet.

“That temper of yours will lead you into trouble one day, Hagrid.  I advise you not to yell at the Azkaban guards like that,” drawled Malfoy.

“Yeh can’ take Dumbledore!  Take him, an’ the Muggle-borns won’ stand a chance!  There’ll be killin’ next time!”

“Calm yourself, Hagrid,” said Dumbledore sharply.

“If the governors want my removal, Lucius, I shall of course step aside…”

“But…” said a flustered Fudge.

“NO!” growled Hagrid.

“However,” said Dumbledore, “ I will never truly leave this school until there are none left how are loyal to me.  Help will also always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.”

“An admirable sentiment,” sneered Malfoy.  “I’m sure we shall miss your rather – individual – way of running things.  We can only hope your successor will manage to prevent any – killins.”

Malfoy opened the cabin door and Dumbledore swept out, his blue eyes flashing over to the corner where Harry and Ron stood.  Fudge waited for Hagrid to go ahead of him but the larger man stood his ground.

“If anyone wanted ter find out some stuff, they’d do good ter follow the spiders.  That’s lead ‘em right!”

Harry and Ron looked at each other under the cloak.

Hagrid started for the door then said loudly, “An’ someone’d need ter feed Fang while I’m away.”  The door shut behind them and Ron pulled off the cloak.

“This is just great.  With Dumbledore gone, they might as well close the school now.  There’ll be an attack tomorrow with him gone.”

Harry nodded solemnly and looked sadly at Fang, who had begun to howl for his master.