"Can I ask you a question?"

"I'd rather you did not," Snape replies, but he looks up from his book, looking Harry in the face.

"She didn't use dementors. She used people," Harry says. He's been staring at ancient, dusty book pages for most of the day, and he still doesn't understand it.

"Padraic and Darla Fenton were the leading experts on Muggle warfare and explosives this side of the Pacific," Snape says simply, marking his page and setting the book aside. He speaks seriously, quietly, and then adds, "In using their bodies, they were killing two birds with one stone. They took two of the only people who might comment on the use of Muggle explosives in magical areas out of the equation whilst using ideal channels."

"But they weren't dementors," Harry says. "They were people. You said they had to be the same species."

"Sara Dean-Smith has studied traditional magic for the past sixty years, Potter. Evidently, she was capable of tweaking necessary requirements in ritual magic." Snape slides his book over the desk, leaning back in his seat. Harry, for the first time, doesn't want to be at Hogwarts right now. He wants to be in his room in Sirius' flat, under the covers of his bed with just books and books around him. Whenever he looks out of a window he thinks about the dementors, or the corpses of the Fentons stumbling over the grass, bloody and open to the bone.

"What do you think they're going to do, now he's out? Lockhart, and his little fanclub? Lockhart just wants attention, but they've just killed like forty people to get him out. What are they going to do?"

"I don't know, Potter."

"What about the dementors? Now there's no prisoners in Azkaban, so what are they going to do with them?"

"I don't know, Potter."

"Do you think Voldemort's going to come back?" Harry asks, feeling a sick lurch in his belly as he asks the question. "The Death Eaters, they've all escaped. Do you think they'll bring him back?"

"I don't know, Potter," Snape says, for the third time, in the same simple, neutral tone, and Harry can't stand it, can't stand the fact that the man isn't even offering theories as to what the Hell is going to happen.

"How can you not know?" Harry demands, and then he feels stupid, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away.

"Contrary to your evident belief, Potter, I do not know everything." Snape stands up, plucking the book from his desk and settling it on a shelf. He looks down at Harry, and then says, "Go to bed."

"Why? Will it make me feel better?" Harry asks sardonically.

"Probably not," Snape allows. "But it will make me feel better, as you will be elsewhere."

"You're a terrible mentor." Harry makes his way to the door nonetheless, stepping out into the corridor. Maybe going to sleep for a bit will make him feel better. He can only hope.

"Good," Snape retorts, and slams the door shut behind him.

---

"Excuse me, Professor McGonagall," Harry turns, staring with wide, surprised eyes at his godfather. He stands in the doorway of the Transfiguration classroom, expression serious. "Can I borrow my godson and Draco, please? They've been called up to the headmaster's office." Harry looks to McGonagall, who seems surprised, but not really annoyed.

"Off you go, Mr Potter, Mr Malfoy. Take your satchels with you - there's only twenty minutes left to the period." Harry and Draco exchange looks, and Harry's glad to see the other boy looking as uncertain as he is, but they both shoulder their bags and follow Sirius out into the corridor. He doesn't talk as he leads them down to the entrance of Dumbledore's office, and he hurries them up the stairs after telling the gargoyle, "Liquorice bootlaces."

As soon as they cross the threshold, Draco lets out a horrified sound, running across the room and throwing his arms around his mother.

Harry hovers in the doorway, looking between the pale-faced Malfoy couple. Narcissa has a black eye, her hair singed heavily in places, and the skirt of her robes is torn to the calf, revealing harsh grazes over the skin there. Lucius looks even worse, though - blood soaks brightly into the silver-blond of his hair, and Snape is bending over him, carefully drawing his wand over the cut in his scalp to heal it closed. The front of Lucius' robes are shredded, claw marks digging into the chest, and under the green fabric his chest is a mess of red and white.

"Mother, Father-"

"It's alright, Draco," Narcissa whispers, holding him tightly. "We're quite fine. Quite alright." Lucius reaches out, and Draco takes his father's hand, squeezing it tightly under his own.

"That's healed closed," Snape murmurs quietly. "You can do your chest yourself?"

"Of course," Lucius says. "Don't insult me, Severus - I taught you that spell." Snape lets out a low, amused sound, and he turns to Narcissa, drawing a canister of balm from inside his robes and beginning to carefully apply it to her bruised left eye.

Harry feels Sirius standing beside him, and he looks to the man. His godfather looks exceedingly serious, but he gives Harry a small, encouraging smile, pushing him into the room. Dumbledore stands before his desk, watching the Malfoys seriously as Lucius heals the cuts on his chest and Narcissa does her best not to wince as Snape fixes up her eye.

"What happened?" Harry asks quietly, dropping his bag on the ground.

"Malfoy Manor was attacked by escapees this morning," Dumbledore says in a very sombre tone. "Bearing stolen wands, they attacked the ward structure and brought it down.

"Stupid of me," Lucius mutters. His eyes are wide, and he's breathing slightly heavily as he returns his wand to its hidden place sheathed in his cane. Harry's never seen the man look so tortured. "Of course that bitch recalled the position of the ward stones. I-"

"Lucius," Narcissa reproaches, and he seems to remember himself slightly, gritting his teeth.

"The Lestranges each knew the position of the ward stones," Lucius says. "As well as to bring them down. The wards at Hogwarts are imbued into everything, but mine were merely strengthened by a few central pieces of infrastructure - perfectly usable structure, so long as one doesn't know the weak points."

"Why did they attack Malfoy Manor?" Lucius drums his fingers on the chair he's sat heavily in, and it's Narcissa who answers.

"It was requested that we offer Bellatrix and the others sanctuary," she says. "That they might have safe headquarters whilst they search for the Dark Lord. I refused."

"And dear Bella needed no more invitation to turn on her own sister?" Sirius asks, bitterly. Narcissa purses her lips tightly together, saying nothing more at all. "I don't understand why I'm here, nor Harry," he adds, frowning at Dumbledore, and Dumbledore offers a very small smile.

"It is my suggestion, Sirius, and my request, that you offer Mr and Mrs Malfoy sanctuary in the Black home, in Grimmauld Place." Sirius laughs.

"Why? The place is a hellhole." Lucius stares at Dumbledore.

"There is no need," he says cleanly. "With due thanks," Lucius says the word with all the acidity he can back into it. "We will travel to France. There is an unused cottage of my family's in Marseille." Narcissa nods her head, seriously.

"Oh?" Dumbledore asks, and he gives a quiet, thoughtful sound before looking between the Malfoys again. "And who will cast the Fidelius Charm for you, once you are there?" Lucius' lips part, and he goes utterly slack-jawed. Harry watches Snape, who furrows his brow at Dumbledore, obviously confused at the implied offer.

"The Fidelius Charm?" Narcissa repeats, her gaze utterly concentrated on Dumbledore's face. "Were we to stay, you would cast it for us?" It must be complicated magic, Harry thinks - Harry's not been able to read many books that talk about it in detail, but Dumbledore seems to be one of the only people who can cast it.

"What is that?" Draco asks hurriedly. "The Fidelius Charm?"

"It conceals a secret," Harry answers. "Like an address. You know how my parents lived in Godric's Hollow, with me? They were hidden under a Fidelius Charm - that's how Pettigrew betrayed them, by telling Voldemort-" All three Malfoys flinch. "where they were." Draco gives a small nod of his head, and looks to Dumbledore with everyone else.

"Were you to assist our effort against the Death Eaters, Mr Malfoy, I would be glad to protect you in any way possible." Harry peers up at Dumbledore - on the one hand, he's irritated that Dumbledore would force the Malfoys' hand like this, but on the other... It's an extraordinarily canny way to get the Malfoys onto his side, however unwillingly. Lucius and Narcissa exchange a serious look: the conversation they share with only their eyes seems to go on for ages, and then they nod together.

"Very well," Lucius says sharply. "Draco- he'll be safer here. He'll still come here." Draco swallows, giving a small nod of his head when his father meets his gaze.

"Very good," Dumbledore says cheerfully. "We need only select a Secret Keeper."

"Severus-"

"No," Snape says. Lucius sighs in a dramatic fashion, and Snape rolls his eyes.

"I'll do it," Narcissa says quietly. Dumbledore's smile unsettles Harry a little - it's kind and warm, but Harry's just seen the way he pushed the Malfoys around like chess pieces, and it's... Bizarre. Strangely, Harry feels a little more respect for the headmaster than he had before, but by no means does it make him feel more affection.

"Come then," Dumbledore says. "Let us begin."

---

"Oh, it's nothing that bad," Harry assures Theo as he and Draco walk down to Care of Magical Creatures with him. "The Malfoys are coming to stay with me and Sirius in the summer, that's all." He speaks as casually as he can, and Draco gives a nod of his head. "Should be fun." Theo opens his mouth to say something, but he's distracted as Harry hurries a little further down the hill, waving to Hermione.

Hagrid stands at the edge of the paddock beside his hut, awkwardly holding his hands in front of his chest. Fang sits on Hagrid's doorstep, surveying the scene, and Harry really, really hopes that this is going to go alright. He loves Hagrid, of course he does, but the man can be...

Well. Harry just hopes there aren't any baby dragons waiting for them in the paddock.

"Alrigh', settle down now, settle down," Hagrid says, gesturing for the students to gather around. Harry stands with Theodore, watching Hagrid carefully as he offers them a big, wide smile. It's blatantly obvious that the man is nervous, but he forces himself to say, "Now, thought we'd start off with a nice, practical lesson. In the paddock here, we've got some Hippogriffs."

Harry stares as the little herd makes its way closer, their bright eyes peering with obvious interest at the students: they're beautiful animals, with their soft hair and feathers, but they're very, very big.

---

"Oh, hey, Buckbeak," Harry says, and he gives a little laugh as the Hippogriff gives him a little headbutt. He reaches behind the bizarre animal's ear, scratching gently underneath the feathers there and smiling. Buckbeak is an intimidating animal, but he's not a cruel one, and Harry finds he rather likes Hippogriffs once he's assured they're not going to rip out his throat.

He looks around the paddock at the other students. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil are cooing over a Hippogriff that's a little smaller than the others, assuring him of how pretty he is and how lovely his eyes are - the Hippogriff seems to be basking under the attention. Hermione is talking awkwardly to a silver-brown Hippogriff, obviously not all that great with animals any bigger than Crookshanks, and Harry watches as Draco makes his way over to her.

He's got that irritating swagger to his movements, and Harry says to Buckbeak, "Watch this. This'll be good." Buckbeak tilts his head, and looks in the direction Harry nods his head.

Harry can't see what Draco says as he puts his hands on his hips, as he's facing away from Harry, but it makes Hermione roll her eyes and say something back Harry thinks is "Go away, Draco." He really needs to learn to lipread. Draco tosses his head, gesturing to the Hippogriff and presumably saying something: the Hippogriff's head whips towards Draco, and Harry's eyes widen.

It lunges towards Draco, and Hermione pulls him out of the way, tumbling onto the ground with him. Harry pats Buckbeak on the side of his shoulder, running towards them.

"Whoa, whoa, hey there," Harry says, catching the Hippogriff Hermione had been petting before it can grab Draco by the calf. "Ignore him, whatever he said, he's an idiot. Look, you're so handsome, he obviously doesn't compare." The Hippogriff seems to consider this, peering into Harry's face as he does his best not to look directly into its eyes, and then it lets out a warbling coo, batting him with its wing.

Hermione drags Draco off the ground and then lets him go, shaking the dust off her robes: Draco is stockstill, though, and he's looking at Hermione with a slightly faraway expression in his eyes. It only lasts for a few seconds, and then Draco shakes himself off, looking to Crabbe and Goyle and doing his best to show off his bravado, but Harry had seen it. "Oh, God," Harry mutters, patting the Hippogriff's head.

---

"Don't," Hermione says firmly.

"Don't what?"

"Don't- don't point it out." Hermione gives a shake of her head, sitting herself down on the grass, and Harry drops down next to her, looking out over the lake. The giant squid is making lazy circles of it, its tentacles just brushing the surface before disappearing under the water again, and the slow movements are hypnotizing. "I'm not going to pay him any attention."

"He's paying enough attention for the both of you," Harry says dryly, and she elbows him hard in the side. "You could always give him a go."

"Give him a go?" Hermione repeats, utterly horrified.

"I meant- I don't know, try him! Hang out with him!" Harry says hurriedly, amending his phrasing, and she huffs.

"No. Draco Malfoy could fall to his knees at my feet and I wouldn't so much as kiss his cheek." Harry snorts, watching as the squid does a strange twirl in the lake water. "You've only just noticed it. George was making jokes about it when he sent me letters last summer." Harry glances at her, making the connections in his head.

"Is that why you were in such a mood with him in Diagon Alley? Because he told you Draco had a crush on you?" Harry laughs, and Hermione crosses her arms over her chest, pursing her lips together in a tight moue of displeasure. "You want me to talk to him?"

"No," Hermione says. "He'll grow out of it." Harry's not really seen Draco show any interest in girls before - unlike Theo and Blaise, he never seems to make all that much fuss of the posters on their walls, or join in the conversations about pretty girls in the years above. Nonetheless, Hermione's probably right - Draco preens under Pansy's attention, but he always gets bored of her soon enough.

"Or you'll grow into it, I suppose."

"Harry James Potter, I will throw you to that squid right now." Harry grins at her, throwing his arm around her shoulders. "I mean it, Harry. Just- just leave it."

"I will, Hermione, I will," Harry promises. She half hugs him, and they sit there for a little while, watching the squid. "Ah, my little Hermione. All grown up and rejecting the menfolk." Hermione snorts.

"You can't really call me little, Harry. I'm two inches taller than you." Harry lets her go, standing up and shouldering his bag.

"Friendship revoked!"

"Harry!" Hermione says, laughing as Harry mock-stalks up the hill, and she follows him up to lunch soon enough.

---

Harry holds his copy of the Prophet in one hand, scanning the headline; in his other, he keeps Hedwig off the ground, carrying her cage carefully through the crowd before settling down on a bench. Hogsmeade Station is in utter chaos with people running back and forth, having forgotten things up at the castle or whatever, and Harry is going to do his best to just ignore it until he can board the train.

Aurors clashed once again with Gringotts goblins this week. The Gringotts policy continues to refuse entry to law enforcement wishing to arrest Azkaban escapees within the bank's walls; Gringotts has refuted three times now the validity of Ministry warrants within their walls. Sighted this week alone within the bank have been Bellatrix Lestrange, Gilderoy Lockhart and Alecto Carrow, all of which escaped from Azkaban last April.

Nymphadora Tonks, one Auror involved, said...

"Hey, Harry," Hermione says, setting Crookshanks' basket down beside Hedwig's cage, and Harry gives her a small smile of greeting, handing her the paper. Despite the chaos continuing outside of the castle's walls, within Hogwarts things had progressed much as usual, and Harry is more than satisfied with his performance at the end of year exams.

"Oh, for goodness' sake," she mutters, frowning at the paper. "Is money really that important to them?"

"Lindon was writing me the other day - he said it isn't about the money," Harry says, giving a shrug. "Something about drama with the Goblin Liaison Office? Goblins are treated as second-class citizens, so ignoring wizarding law in this case is a form of protest." Hermione shakes her head, passing the paper back to him.

"Seems a bit extreme when Bellatrix Lestrange is involved," she murmurs, and they both look up as the Hogwarts Express lets out a sound of its whistle. Students begin boarding, and Harry shoves his Prophet under his arm, standing up. "Did Sirius-"

"Harry!" comes a yell from up the hill, and Harry glances up as Percy Weasley rushes down towards him with a letter held in his hand and Hermes flapping urgently after him. Harry frowns, opening his mouth to ask a question, but Percy's already on him - the older boy throws his arms around Harry, pressing a kiss to his forehead and letting out a loud laugh. "I got the job, Harry!" Percy declares excitedly: his freckled cheeks are bright red from exertion and excitement, and he ruffles Harry's hair. "I'm the new assistant for Bartemius Crouch! Can you believe it!?"

"Of course I can," Harry says awkwardly, trying not to think about how good Percy smells - he must use some sort of cologne, but Harry shouldn't ask about that right now. "Well done!" Percy grins at the both of them, and then he lets Hermes alight on his shoulder, stepping onto the train.

Harry sighs.

"You're such an idiot," Hermione says, picking Crookshanks up, and Harry frowns at her, letting her step onto the train before him. "What I was going to say, was did Sirius say anything more about staying with you this summer?"

"Yeah," Harry says, walking with her until they find an empty compartment and slipping inside. They let Crookshanks and Hedwig out as soon as the door is closed, and Crookshanks leaps up to a luggage rack, curling in a ball beside it. Within a few moments, Hermione and Harry's trunks appear with house elves carrying them, and they both chorus "Thank you!"s before they disappear. "He said so long as your parents are alright with him he'd like you to come and stay." He lifts up Hermione's trunk, carefully setting it beside Crookshanks without disturbing him. "We're all staying at Grimmauld Place together - apparently Dumbledore is setting up some kind of group there."

"What do you mean, group?" Hermione asks, frowning and furrowing her brow. "I thought the Malfoys were just going to stay there?"

"Yeah, I think they thought that too," Harry says, sitting against the window and stroking Hedwig's feathers. "Sirius couldn't go into too much detail, but it's some kind of light wizard group."

"I bet the Malfoys are pleased about that," Hermione says dryly.

"I think they're willing to deal with it at the moment, to be honest," Harry murmurs, and Hermione's expression falters a little. She's not going to be sympathetic, of course, but nor can she really be completely hostile where the Malfoys are concerned, even though Harry has seen her try. "You excited for the summer?"

"Oh, yeah," Hermione says. "Stuck in a big house with you, the Malfoys, the Weasleys, and Sirius Black. It's my dream, Harry." Harry laughs, feeling the chug of the train beneath them as it leaves the station.

"Yeah, Hermione. Mine too."