CHAPTER 11

Harry lay frozen beneath his Invisibility Cloak, powerless to wipe away the blood that poured hot and wet over his face. Humiliation at his own careless stupidity made him hate Malfoy more in that moment than he ever had before. He knew the evil prat was up to something, could feel it down to his very bones. But to his great annoyance, he realized that the frustration of being unable to prove anything was making him overly reckless.

He felt a jolt of panic as the train suddenly lurched, making his paralyzed body roll onto its side so that all he could see was the dusty underside of the carriage seats. The floor began to vibrate as the engine roared to life, and in that moment Harry was a wild, trapped animal inside the cage of his own body. But as the minutes lengthened and his muscles continued to be imprisoned by the spell, he finally gave into the inevitable.

The only thing he could hope for now was that his friends would realize he wasn't at the feast, and after raising the alarm would insist that Malfoy be interrogated – preferably by Harry's father, who would immediately use his Legilimancy skills to see through Malfoy's lies.

Dad will tear this train apart, Harry thought. When he realizes I'm missing, there's nothing that will stop him from finding me. And then he'll finally understand why Malfoy can't be trusted. For some reason the thought calmed him, and he was able to relax inside the prison of his own flesh and bones.

But with a sudden slithery whoosh, the Invisibility Cloak flew off him as a voice above said, "Wotcher, Harry!"

There was a flash of red light and Harry's body unfroze. Quickly pushing himself into a more dignified sitting position, he hastily wiped the blood from his bruised face and looked up at Tonks, who was holding the Invisibility Cloak she had just pulled away.

"We'd better get out of here," she noted urgently, as the train windows became obscured with steam and they began to move out of the station. "Come on, we'll have to jump." Harry hurried after her into the corridor. She pulled open the train door and leapt onto the platform, which seemed to be sliding underneath them as the train gathered momentum. He followed suit, staggering a little on landing, then straightened up in time to see the scarlet steam engine pick up speed as it rounded the corner and disappeared from view.

The cold night air was soothing on his throbbing nose. As Tonks silently handed him back the Invisibility Cloak, she searched his face with a clinical gaze and assessed his injury. Harry felt angry and embarrassed that he had been discovered in such a ridiculous, humiliating position.

"Did the Malfoy kid do that?" the Auror asked, motioning to his nose. Harry had rarely seen her so serious.

"Err… Yeah, he did. How did you–?"

"It doesn't matter," she said with a faraway gaze and a dismissive wave of her hand. Harry thought she seemed a bit distracted. But after a moment her eyes cleared and she changed the subject. "Your nose doesn't look too serious. Want me to fix it for you?"

"Um…" He'd been intending to go straight to Madam Pomfrey, who he trusted a bit more in circumstances like these. However, he felt it would be rude to say this, so instead he simply shrugged and nodded. "Ok, sure. Go ahead."

With a slight flick of the wrist as she aimed the wand directly at his face, Tonks confidently announced, "Episkey."

Harry's nose felt at once very hot, and then suddenly very cold. Raising a hand to run his fingers gingerly across the top, he was thrilled to feel no pain whatsoever. "Thanks!" he exclaimed in astonishment. "Thanks a lot!"

"No problem. You'd be surprised how often I break my own nose," she muttered. But somehow, as Harry remembered how clumsy the cheery, pink-haired Auror could be, he didn't think he would…

Tonks waved her wand so that an immense, silvery, four-legged creature erupted from the tip and sprinted into the darkness. Although Harry had never seen her Patronus before, he couldn't help feeling a little surprised, for it looked suspiciously like…

"Was that a werewolf?"

Harry couldn't tell in the gloom, but for some reason he got the feeling that Tonks was blushing. "No, well, I… I was just sending a message to tell your dad… He'd probably turn me into a fish again if I didn't let him know you were safe. C'mon, we'd better not dawdle." Harry couldn't help smiling as she hurried up the hillside lane in front of him. Tonks and Remus… he thought with a smile, thinking back on his conversation with Remus this last summer. He was genuinely happy for them both. They just… fit.

"So…" He asked, hurrying to catch up and with all intentions of teasing her in a little brother sort of way. But noticing how she refused to look at him or even bother to slow her stride, he took pity. "So, uh… What are you doing here at Hogwarts?"

Tonks seemed to relax at the change of subject, and her face warmed as she glanced at him. "Me and a few other Aurors are going to be stationed here throughout the year to offer the school extra protection. It's part of the new security measures for…" She looked forward again. "Well, you know."

"For me, you mean." It was more a statement than a question. Harry sighed in annoyance.

"For all the students," she corrected quietly. "The Death Eaters are getting more and more brazen. Dumbledore isn't taking any chances."

They walked in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Harry couldn't help dwelling on Malfoy, sure that whatever was going on, the Slytherin was definitely a part of it. It would even explain everything the boy said in the privacy of the carriage.

Suddenly, an idea began to form within Harry's mind – an idea so outlandish, so unexpected, that he couldn't help wondering if it might actually be true. "Do you…" he asked slowly, wondering if he was crazy for even considering it. "Do you think… that Malfoy could have become a Death Eater?"

"Malfoy, the kid from the train?" Tonks looked taken aback, but to her credit (and Harry's gratitude), she didn't discredit the notion outright. Seeming to weigh and consider the thought as they reached the giant gates with the winged boars on either pillar, she finally turned to him and responded, "I don't know… Maybe. Why, what makes you think–?"

But they were suddenly interrupted by a frantic voice calling his name.

"Harry? Harry – thank God!"

Snape appeared out of the darkness, hurrying towards them on the other side of the gates. A small lantern bobbing in his hand lit the worried features from below, pitching his father's eyes into shadow while throwing the anxious creases on the corners of his eyes and mouth into stark relief. "I could tell by the look on your friends' faces that they had expected you to be in the Hall. I was starting to get concerned when the Patronus arrived."

Harry tried to push open the gates, but was surprised by a loud clang as they refused to budge. Glancing down, he saw that the gates were chained shut with heavy links the size of his fist. "Alohomora!" he spoke clearly and confidently, tapping the massive lock with his wand.

"That won't work," Snape muttered from the other side. "Dumbledore bewitched them himself." He silently pointed his wand at the chains, which slithered from the bars and lifted into the air like giant serpents before the gates creaked open of their own accord. Turning to the Auror he acknowledged with soft sincerity, "I've got him from here. Thank you for watching out for my son… Tonks."

Her preferred name seemed to catch the Auror off guard, and it took her a moment to answer. "Oh… Um, yeah. Of course. See you, Harry."

"Good night," Harry waved before walking quickly through the open gates. "Thanks for… everything."

As Tonks turned and headed back down the hill, Snape tapped the lock so that the chains jumped back into place before murmuring, "Her Patronus said something about an injury." He rattled the gates once to make sure they were locked, then nodded in satisfaction. "Are you hurt?" he asked, turning to Harry and lifting the lantern to his face. "Do you need me to– Merlin!" he gasped, seizing Harry's chin with his free hand and turning his face back and forth in the dim light to examine from all angles. Even in the darkness, Harry could see his father's narrowed eyes and the muscles of the man's jaw clench in anger. "Why are you covered in blood?" he demanded.

"Broken nose," Harry murmured, keeping still under the inspection.

"Broken–? How in Merlin's name did you break your nose?" Snape snapped, but he released Harry's face and took a step back, lowering the lantern. "Hold still. I'll mend it for you," he sighed, raising his wand.

"No, it's ok. Tonks already did."

"Oh," his father muttered, pausing for a moment as he lowered his wand. "Well then. Would you like to tell me how you ended up with a broken nose and nowhere to be found when the train arrived at Hogwarts?"

Harry fidgeted under Snape's hard, intense gaze, unsure why he was suddenly so nervous. "Well… I, um… Malfoy and I–"

"Malfoy?" His father asked sharply. "What does Draco Malfoy have to do with this?"

"He's the one that broke my nose."

Harry didn't think it was possible, but his father's eyes narrowed even more as he gazed down at him. "Let me get this straight," Snape murmured silkily, his voice pitched dangerously low. "You were on a simple train ride, and yet you couldn't keep yourself from picking a fight with Draco? My God Harry, all you had to do was sit with your friends for a few hours!"

"I didn't 'pick a fight' with Malfoy!" Harry shot back defensively. "He came after me!"

"Oh, you were just minding your own business, were you?" His father sneered disbelievingly. "And suddenly – what? – Draco attacked you right there in your carriage? Is that what you're telling me?"

"No! I mean… yes, he did but–"

"And was anyone there to witness this attack? Any friends or acquaintances who could corroborate your side of the story?"

"No, I – we were alone in the Slytherin compartment, but–" Snape made a derisive noise, and suddenly Harry was yelling, unwilling to admit how much it stung to see the distain in his father's eyes. "I can't believe you're taking his side over mine! He physically assaulted me and left me bleeding on the train! And – and since when have you been on a first name basis with scum like him?!"

"Since always, you nit wit! I'm his Head of House!"

"In six years, I've never heard you call him anything other than 'Mr. Malfoy'! And now you're suddenly all chummy chummy on a first name basis, when Malfoy is acting really suspicious like he's finally taken the leap and officially become a Death Eater or some–"

"That's enough!" his father interrupted sharply, his eyes ablaze. Growling menacingly he continued, "Whatever Draco Malfoy is or isn't doing is not your concern while here at school. Your only job is to keep your head down and study for classes, am I understood?"

"But–"

"But nothing! Get up to the Great Hall before I drag you in by your ear!"

"But I–"

"NOW, Potter!"

Harry stepped back as if he'd been slapped, staring up at his father with wounded eyes. So I'm back to 'Potter' now? And Malfoy is suddenly 'Draco'? His gaze hardened, and Harry could feel himself shutting down. Before he could do anything stupid – like allow his injured heart to make him beg his father's forgiveness – he spun on his heel and stomped up the hill toward the castle doors.

"Yes… Professor," he spat over his shoulder.

Harry fumed all the way to the castle, barging through the front doors hard enough to make them bounce off the stone wall beside them with a loud bang! He could hear the low rumble of hundreds of voices and the tinkling clatter of silverware against porcelain platters in the great room not far away. But here in the Entrance Hall, all was eerily silent.

What was I thinking, accusing his favorite, darling little pupil?! Harry raged, pacing back and forth on the cobbled stones before the massive staircase. Of course he wouldn't believe me! Malfoy is the perfect student who can do no wrong – at least as far as he's concerned. But me – blasted, spoiled, arrogant Potter – I can't do anything right! It's always my fault! Always!Harry stomped towards the closed doors of the Great Hall, but paused when his palm touched the wood of the doors. It was worn smooth and soft by the thousands of hands – centuries worth of Hogwarts students – that came before him. Had any of their lives been as complicated as mine? Did any of them seem to disappoint their parents so thoroughly? Harry placed his forehead against the aged wood and closed his eyes with a deep sigh. A sudden lurch in his chest made it difficult to draw breath as a treacherous corner of his mind whispered, I bet he wishes he had Malfoy as a son instead of me…

Harry's eyes flew open, and he gritted his teeth as he forced the thoughts away and shoved at the heavy wooden door. The massive room with its four long House tables and its staff table at the head, was decorated as usual with floating candles that made the plates below glitter and glow. But it was all a shimmering blur to Harry, who walked so fast that he was passing the Hufflepuff table before people even realized he was there. By the time they were standing up to get a good look at him, Harry had spotted Ron and Hermione. Speeding toward them, he practically jumped onto the bench and forced his way in between his two friends.

"Where've you — blimey, what've you done to your face?" asked Ron, goggling at him along with everyone else in the vicinity.

"Why, what's wrong with it?" Harry responded in a panic, grabbing a spoon and squinting at his distorted reflection.

"You're covered in blood!" hissed Hermione.

Mortified, Harry realized that in all the commotion after the train, and after that the fight with his father, he hadn't remembered to clean himself of the blood that had poured down his face after Malfoy crushed his nose. No wonder everyone is staring… I look like I murdered a small animal with my teeth!

"Come here—" Hermione muttered before raising her wand and siphoning away the dried blood.

"Thanks," said Harry, feeling his now clean face. And then out of the corner of his eye, he saw his father enter the Great Hall from the door behind the staff table. Refusing to look, Harry felt his father watching him as he made his way to his normal seat in front of the Slythering table. "How's my nose looking?" he asked his friends, attempting to distract himself.

"Normal, why?" Hermoine replied anxiously. But she didn't wait for an answer before rushing to ask, "Harry, what happened? You disappeared on the train, and then we couldn't find you! We've been terrified!"

He was suddenly very conscious that the entire table had quieted in the hopes of listening in; even Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, had come floating along the bench to eavesdrop. "Err… I'll tell you later," he answered.

"But—" Hermione insisted.

"Later Hermione," Harry muttered in a darkly significant voice. He reached across Ron for a couple of chicken legs and a handful chips, but before he could take them they vanished, to be replaced with elegant desserts. Beside him, Ron dived at a large chocolate gateau.

Sighing in resignation, Hermione continued, "Well at any rate, you missed the Sorting."

"Hat say anything interesting?" asked Harry, taking a piece of treacle tart.

"More of the same, really… Advising us all to unite in the face enemies, you know."

"Dumbledore mention Voldemort at all?"

"Not yet, but he always saves his proper speech for after the feast. It can't be long now," she murmured with a glance at the staff table. Harry refused to move his eyes from the plate in front of him, and thankfully Hermione asked, "So what did Professor Slughorn want on the train?"

"To know what really happened at the Ministry."

"Him and everyone else here," Hermione sniffed disdainfully. "People have been interrogating us all night, haven't they, Ron?"

"Yeah," said Ron. "All wanting to know if you really are 'the Chosen One'."

Thankfully before Harry was forced to answer, Dumbledore got to his feet at the staff table. The talk and laughter echoing around the Hall died away almost instantly. "The very best of evenings to you!" the headmaster called as he smiled broadly, his arms opened wide as though to embrace the whole room. "To our new students, welcome! To our returning students, welcome back! Another year full of magical education awaits you…

"We are pleased to receive multiple new members of staff this year!" Dumbledore announced without preamble. "Lily Prewett has taken a position as assistant to Madam Pomfrey." At mention of Lily's name, Harry couldn't help himself, and he glanced up at the staff table with a thin smile. Lily was seated at the end of the table closest to Gryffindor in between Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall. With a pretty blush staining her cheeks, she gave a small wave to the entire Hall. Then her eyes landed on Harry, and her smile widened. As sweet as she was, Harry knew she'd be welcomed by the students and would have no problem fitting in.

As the polite applause for Lily died down, the headmaster continued on with the introductions. "Those of you who are fourth years and older will also recognize Professor Lupin, who was formally our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." A murmur swept through the crowd at this, and some even got to their feet to look for the man – who, Harry realized, was sitting with the Gryffindors closest to the staff table.

The murmuring continued, and for a moment Harry feared that the students were afraid of Remus. But as he gazed around the Hall, he realized that most students (except for those at the Slytherin table) were grinning at each other, their excitement plain at the thought of their old teacher returning.

"I'm not surprised," Ron announced proudly. "He may be a werewolf, but Lupin was our best DADA teacher by far." Many of the older Gryffindors surrounding them heartily aggreed.

The three friends caught Remus' eye and waved. Harry realized with a laugh that Jilly and Celine sat across from him, almost hidden beside the older students, and were loudly whooping and cheering for their teacher. Up at the staff table, Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow at her granddaughter's lack of decorum, but Lily just laughed at the girls' antics.

Dumbledore raised his arm with a warm smile, and the talk and applause died down. "Professor Lupin has graciously returned to tutor Miss Prewet's daughter Jillian, and Professor McGonagall's granddaughter, Celine. This is the first time in many decades that children so young have lived here at Hogwarts, so let's be sure that we all follow the rules and set a good example." The older students nearest the girls at the Gryffindor table reached out to ruffle their hair, and Harry knew that Jilly and Celine would be well looked after.

That left only one more person to introduce, which also meant the announcement about his father. For some reason he couldn't explain, Harry's heart began to pound.

"Our last introduction," Dumbledore called, "is Mr. Horace Slughorn." Slughorn stood up, his bald head gleaming in the candlelight, his big waistcoated belly casting the table into shadow. "Professor Slughorn is a former colleague of mine who has agreed resume his old post of Potions master."

"Potions?"

"Potions?"

The word echoed all over the Hall as people wondered if they'd heard right. This is it, Harry thought, wiping his sweaty palms against his pants under the table as the question of, "Potions?" was repeated up and down the Gryffindor table.

"Professor Snape, meanwhile," continued Dumbledore, raising his voice so that it carried over all the muttering, "will be taking the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Snape, who was sitting on Dumbledore's right, did not stand up his mention of his name. Instead he merely raised a hand in lazy acknowledgment of the raucous applause from the Slytherin table. And although nothing compared to his own House, both the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws clapped politely for Snape. Gryffindor, however, was completely silent – which wasn't as apparent since a buzz of conversation had erupted at the news that Snape had finally achieved his heart's desire.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, hushing the buzz of hundreds of students. Seemingly oblivious to the sensational nature of the news he had just imparted, the headmaster said nothing more about staff appointments, but waited a few seconds to ensure that the students were listening before he continued.

"Now, as everybody in this Hall knows, Lord Voldemort and his followers are once more at large and gaining in strength."

The silence was absolute in that moment, seeming to tauten and strain as Dumbledore spoke. Harry couldn't help himself, and glanced accusingly at Malfoy, expecting the other boy to be gloating in dark triumph. Surprisingly however, Malfoy stared down at an uneaten parfait, poking morosely at the fruit and yogurt with a dessert spoon.

"I cannot emphasize strongly enough how dangerous the present situation is," Dumbledore continued, "and how much care each of us at Hogwarts must take to ensure that we remain safe. The castle's magical fortifications have been strengthened over the summer, and we are protected in new and more powerful ways. But we must still guard scrupulously against carelessness on the part of any student or staff. I urge you, therefore, to abide by any security restrictions that you teachers impose upon you, however irksome you might find them — in particular, the rule that you are not to be out of your common rooms after hours. I implore you, should you notice anything strange or suspicious within or outside the castle, to report it to a member of staff immediately. I trust you to conduct yourselves, always, with the utmost regard for your own and others' safety."

Dumbledore's blue eyes swept over the students, lingering for a moment longer on the Slytherin table, before he smiled once more.

"But now, your beds await, as warm and comfortable as you could possibly wish, and I know that your top priority is to be well-rested for your lessons tomorrow. Let us therefore say good night. Pip pip!"

With the usual deafening scraping noise, the benches moved back and hundreds of students began to file out of the Great Hall toward their dormitories. Sick of being goggled, whispered, and pointed at, Harry lagged behind and allowed the rest of the students to file past him. Hermione darted ahead to fulfill her Prefect's duty of shepherding the first year Gryffindors, but Ron remained by Harry's side.

"What really happened to your nose?" he asked, once they were at the very back of the throng pressing out of the Hall, and out of earshot of anyone else.

Harry told him. It was a mark of the strength of their friendship that Ron did not laugh. "Just wait until I get that prat alone," he murmured darkly.

"Yeah, well, listen to what he was saying before he found out I was there…" Harry had expected Ron to be stunned by Malfoy's boasts. But with what Harry considered pure pigheadedness, his friend was unimpressed.

"Come on, Harry, he was just showing off for Parkinson," Ron scoffed, and for some reason Harry's temper was quick to surface.

"How do you know Voldemort doesn't need someone at Hogwarts?" He snapped irritably. "It wouldn't be the first—"

Ron interrupted him. "Yeah, but what kind of mission would You-Know-Who have given an underage, underqualified wizard? I just don't think—"

"You know what? Forget I said anything," Harry retorted sharply, stomping away from his surprised friend and forcing himself through a crowd of third-year Hufflepuffs in an effort to put some space between them.

"Harry," he heard Ron call behind him. "Harry – wait!"

He was already in his four-poster with the curtains drawn by the time the others burst loudly into the tower dorm room. After a summer away from each other, Neville, Dean, and Seamus were too enthusiastic to do more than jabber away and laugh at one another's antics. Strangely enough however, even though Harry was pretending to sleep but was really listening intently, Ron never said a word. Harry only heard him after the boys had changed into their pajamas and were climbing into their own beds for the night.

"Harry?" his friend's voice called softly from the other side of the curtains. When Harry didn't answer, Ron poked his head inside. But seeing only Harry's back with his eyes closed tight, the redhead gave a defeated sigh and climbed into his own four-poster with a slight squeak.

The rest of his dormmates fell asleep relatively quickly, but it was a long time coming before Harry could say the same.