September 7th.

"It doesn't make any sense at all!" Hermione said, in a cry of desperation. She had been puzzling with the letters for hours now. She had found out soon enough that nothing of such a name existed, but putting them in a different order didn't work out too.

"I know," Harry said drowsily. He had given up after the first hour and was half-sleeping and half-writing his Potions essay. He preferred Sandra Bones over Snape any day, but she was even more strict, if that were possible.

"Heads up," Ron said, who was far to enthusiastic in Hermione's opinion. "I took the liberty to visit the library to get you this," he said, holding up three shiny red books.

"How did you get this?" Hermione asked in awe.

"I distracted Pince and searched her office."

"How'd you do that?" Harry asked, who was suddenly very awake and very much not interested in doing any more homework.

"Her robes caught fire and then I opened the door to her private office with a key that Fred and George nicked when they were still at Hogwarts," Ron said proudly, glad to follow in his brother's footsteps.

"Ronald! That is arson, thievery and assault on a Hogwarts teacher!"

"Yeah, Ron. Why didn't you ask me to come? Snatching things together is always more fun than snatching them alone."

"Well, oddly, I wasn't alone," he said, frowning. Like he only just realised how strange it really was. "I wasn't the one who set Pince's robes on fire; it was Parkinson. Seemed really keen over the fact that I could get into the old hag's office. She took some kind of globe." He shrugged.

"Pugginson helped you? She must be really desperate."

"'Bet she is, without her racist little Death Eater," Hermione said angrily. It took her merely seconds to calm down. "Could you show me the books, Ron?"

"Sure," he muttered. "I wasn't really sure which year that picture that photo was taken, so I just took '71 to '73. I'm terrible at guessing age, so I figured that she must have been like fourteen of fifteen years old. I haven't had the chance to look at it though."

"What is it?" Harry asked curiously. He was bending forward to see what the pages said.

"It's the Club Registration Volume," Hermione explained, "Whenever a student or students decide to form a club, they have to get it registered and approved. I don't assume that they were as strict thirty years ago as they are now, but if this was a legal club, there should be something in these. Oh, no."

"What?"

"There's just initials of the members," she groaned. "Well, just skim the pages looking for N.B. There can't be that many. Or else combine it with L.M."

After over twenty minutes of searching Harry shot up, choking on his butterbeer. "Here, I found it." The others scurried over to him to study the page.

P. DUELLING CLUB '73 ľ '77. Staff Holders: L.M. & G.J.

Possessors: 3rd N.B. 4th R.W. 5th L.M. & G.J. 6th B.B. 7th R.P.

Original Members '73: L.M., G.J., A.A.D., K.G., V.A., L.E., N.B., S.B., B.B., R.W., A.B., A.V., R.P., D.C., S.O.G, A.R.W., S.P.

Added Members: J.P., P.E.P, D.S.L., X.K., F.K.S., S.S.

This club has been suspended for inappropriate behaviour at the date of 30-04-1973.

This club has been reassigned with the initiative of improvement at the date of 01-09-1974.

This club has been suspected of involvement in the disappearance of a student at the date of 02-05-1975.

This club has been cleared of all charges at the date of 14-05-1975.

This club has officially been closed at the date of 03-05-1977 on encouragement of Headmaster Dumbledore and the Ministry of Magic.

"Those are a whole lot of notes for a club that lasted this short. Maybe they were involved with the Dark Arts, don't you think?" Hermione asked.

"You think? I bet those whole lot of them were into them. And look at this," Ron said, pointing at one of the lines, "it says 'involvement in the disappearance of a student'."

"Not to mention that the Ministry of Magic wanted the club to close. Something dirty must have been going on there. That dreaded Malfoy woman is just another rotten liar," Harry added.

"You can't be sure of that. Look, I'm not taking her side, I'm on yours, always have been. But we have to give them the benefit of the doubt. I think it's useful if we find out who all these students are first," Hermione said.

"And how were you going to do that?" Ron retorted.

"I am Head Girl. I have access to the student register. But I will arrange that in the morning, I have homework to do now," Hermione said before getting back to her work.

September 8th 02.50 AM.

"When will you return to the castle?" McGonagall asked strictly.

"If I only knew," Narcissa sighed. "They make you wait for hours sometimes. But I expect things to run more smoothly because they know I have to teach classes at eight in the morning."

"Very well. You can depart now. This Portkey will transport you to Azkaban," she said, handing Narcissa a rusty soda can, who wrinkled her nose at the sight of it. "You will have to apparate back, I assume that will be no trouble."

"Of course it won't. Goodbye, and I'll see you in the morning," she said before twirling away in the light of the Portkey. Seconds later she appeared in the sober hall of Azkaban prison, the hall was known as Finacoral.

A young woman in peacock blue robes came walking over to her, she was jittery and still putting on her robes it seemed. "I-I'm sorry, Mrs Malfoy. You-you see… it's my first shift here and they didn't warn me about you coming… but-but I'm here, so, I'll just bring you, wait… I have to see in which cell your husband he's in," she panted. Next she was searching her pockets for a piece of paper.

"To save you your trouble: he's in cell fifty-six," Narcissa said annoyed.

The girls head jerked up. "No, Mrs Malfoy, he has been moved. They didn't fill me in on why, but I heard the other prisoners gossiping about him being involved in a fight or something. Ah," she said when she pulled out the parchment, "C'mon, he's in cell twenty-eight now."

Narcissa hadn't spend more than five minutes with the girl, and was already annoyed by her hyperactive behaviour. She seemed quite young, probably in her early twenties. She was an Auror, but Narcissa suspected that she was still in training. But she figured that the Ministry didn't have a whole lot of choice now that there were Death Eaters on the loose, and some people had to guard Azkaban.

"Are there many people on duty tonight?" Narcissa asked.

"There were," the girl answered. "But there was an attack at the house of Mr. and Mrs. Finnigan. Death Eaters," she said while she eyed Narcissa suspiciously.

"Oh, dear. I do hope they are all OK," Narcissa said, hardly concerned.

The girl didn't notice the tone in her voice and continued. "Their son has been taken to St. Mungo's. Poor Antarés, she must be worried sick. You see, she wasn't at home. Only Seamus and Rolf were there. I just spoke to her the other day, she works at the Ministry too, and she was excited about moving to Belgium. Away from Voldemort and his followers. I guess they must have gotten air about it."

But Narcissa had stopped listening when she mentioned Antarés. She knew her from when she was still at Hogwarts. Antarés Veil had been Head Girl in '73. And a member. Did they wanted her to be the third?

Narcissa was torn away from her thoughts when they arrived at cell twenty-eight. It was exactly like every other cell. There were no bars, just a giant opening at the side of the cell that was facing the Finacoral. It was protected my the most advanced magic there was, it was kept open to torture the prisoners. If they dared to cross the line they'd experience a curse much like Crucio. And it would go on until the MEG bothered to stop it.

"Why is it pitch-black?" Narcissa asked surprised.

"Punishment," the girl simply answered. She handed Narcissa two candles. "You're going to need these. I trust you to remember how everything works. You'll report to me when you are ready to leave."

"I know," she replied before stepping into the cell.

It didn't smell as bad as the last one, thank heavens. In the dim light of the candles she could made out the form of the rusty sink, a battered loo and the shaggy bed in the corner.

"Are you awake, darling?" she asked. She put the candles down on the raggedy stool that functioned as a nightstand. Next, she sat herself down on the bed.

"Aren't you a dashing romantic," he chuckled when he saw the candles. He made an attempt of straightening his hair with his hand, but failed miserably. His crappy black prison uniform didn't make him any more attractive.

She smiled slightly. "How are you doing?"

"Walking on roses, as always," he answered.

"I heard that you've been in a fight, Love. Is it true?"

"Quite. Craven was complaining over the lack of visitation. Then Rodolphus joined the pity party and whined about not having Bellatrix with him. Well, you've seen how things are going here, people get irritated easily. Craven accused Bellatrix of being, ah, how did he put it? Yes, 'a traitorous bitch woman'. Rodolphus is a man with a temper, and he practically lunged over the table at Craven."

Hmm… so that is how he ended up in the hospital, Narcissa thought.

"Rabastan and I tried to tear them apart, but we received a fair amount of hits ourselves." He showed the right side of his face to her, where his jaw had been marked by a purple-blue bruise.

"Ahw, you poor thing," Narcissa said mockingly.

"Laugh, you wench. It bloody well hurts," he laughed. "After ten minutes or so, the Aurors finally decided to make an appearance. Craven was already beaten to pulp, you can imagine."

"Yes, I very well can," she sighed. Narcissa knew that Rodolphus was a ruthless man. That's why Bellatrix was so attracted to him in the first place.

"Heard anything from Draco?" Lucius said, breaking the silence.

"There's nothing," she answered, taking his hope away. She lay her hand comforting on top of his thigh and softly squeezed it. "Not one bloody sign, not one single article in the Prophet, not even one ruddy footprint that points into his direction."

"Sadly the Dark Lord is a master when it comes to hiding out."

"He's a right shitty coward if y'ask me!"

"How dare you say that!" Lucius spat out.

"Recruiting Draco like that, of course he'd love to join, he's a fool, he doesn't know what he's getting -no gotten- himself into," she ranted. More talking to herself than to her husband. "Ruddy idiot, 'oh, no, Mother, don't keep Auntie Bella away, I'd love to learn Occlumency, for I will be the best Death Eater in all the land.'"

"He actually said that?" Lucius corked his left eyebrow. "Arrogant prat."

"Well, he is your son, you know," she huffed.

"You got him spoiled."

"He's got floppy hair, thanks to you."

Lucius burst out in a fit of laughter. "Yes, I suppose that's my doing."

Narcissa let her head sink against his shoulder. His arms sneaked around her waist and pulled her close to him. All of a sudden, she started sobbing uncontrollably.

"Darling, what's wrong?"

"Could you just shut your mouth for a minute?" She said before pressing her lips against his. She kissed him feverishly and entangled her hand in his long, blond hair. "Just don't talk," she panted softly.

Lucius was more than willing to fulfil that request.

September 8th

"I've just thought of the perfect new rule."

"Tell me."

"Whenever a teacher is ten minutes late, we can leave."

"No we can't!" Hermione said horrified. "We'll just have to wait and study. We can't leave class, that's the worst idea you've ever had."

"I kind of agree with Ron on this one," Harry said sleepily. He yawned loudly and cupped his head into his hands.

"What made you so tired?" Hermione asked. "Have you been sneaking out again?" she asked strict. Now that Hermione was Head Girl, she was even more freaking out when either Ron or Harry were breaking the rules.

"What? No. It's nothing. Couldn't s--"

The door of the classroom closed with a bang.

"I'm dreadfully sorry for being late," Narcissa said sternly while she marched to the front of the room, "But I encountered some inconvenience when I desired to departure from Azkaban prison. That's all you need to know."

Narcissa dismissed her coat and scanned the room. "Where is Mr. Thomas?"

"We don't know, Professor," Hermione answered. "Professor McGonagall pulled him out of bed in the middle of the night. We haven't heard a thing from both of them."

Suddenly, Narcissa experienced a flashback moment. 'You wouldn't believe it, Mother. Saint Potter is the new hype here. Everyone praises him: The Weasley's, that dirty Mudblood friend of them, Longbottom, even a pureblood wizard like Dean Thomas is all over him. Not that it's much of a surprise, his best friend is a halfblood, Simon or Seamus. They're all a bunch of gits.'

"Professor Malfoy?" Hermione carefully asked.

"I--Miss Granger. Mr. Thomas, is he a friend of Seamus Finnigan?"

"Yes, they're best friends. Do you know something about this matter?"

"I do," she said absently. "I wondered why there were so few Aurors at Azkaban yesterday, there are always some, you see, even though MEG is there too. And I asked my escort. There has been a Death Eater attack at the Finnigan house."

A chorus of gasps filled the room. Lavender Brown broke down into tears.

"Seamus is in hospital. I don't know how he's doing. But his father died of blood loss. He was hit by a stabbing curse. Mrs. Finnigan wasn't home at the time…"

The door opened slowly and a scrawny fifth year peaked in. "Professor Malfoy, Ma'am. Headmistress McGonagall requested every class to gather in the Great Hall. It's on importance. She also requested you to pick up every student in the Slytherin common room. Ok?" he asked, he appeared to be scared.

"Of course. Miss Granger, Mr MacMillian, you will guide all your classmates to the Great Hall. I assume this gathering will be about the matter I just tried to explain. I'll meet you there." Within a minute, the classroom was empty.

September 8th, Divination Tower

Divination Tower? Yes. Because there's honestly no other place remaining in the castle you can relax, have a cup of tea, and write another page of information in your journal.

Apparently the Finnigan house wasn't the only one under attack yesterday eve. There was one more; Shane Pale and his family were under attack too.

Shane was dead in an instant, his wife and children lived, but I'm not sure they can tell the tale, seeing as they have no mouths. Or vocal cords for that matter. Pity.

Never liked him, I had Transfiguration with him (I will never forgive Bella for sending me to The Haunted Bathroom, which caused me to be late, which caused me to be paired up with that boy). Thick as a brick, I tell you. But he was good at Herbology, for some reason.

Now that he's been taken down, I fear for what will come. Because if you were into this like me, you know that these attacks weren't random. Because the Ministry certainly think that they were. No, these attacks were chosen.

I know why these people were assaulted, hurt, murdered. But I will not tell unless they make me. And try not to when they try to make me. Ain't no stranger Draco's got his occlumency gift from.

Draco…I really miss him.

I just wish there was a sign of life, of anything. I've tried Snape's pathetic excuse of a house, of course, there was nothing. They didn't visit the mansion. And I am damn sure Draco didn't attack the Finnigan house. So I still don't know a thing.

Lucius was so disappointed that there was no news. He never wanted his son to become a Death Eater, and neither did I. But that silly man glamorised every single bit of being what he is, the festivities, the Muggle taunting and the raids. He never got the nerves to tell his boy what they really had to do; torture and murder, those revels he kept to me and himself. No wonder Draco was so excited.

But that is not of importance at the moment. Students have been given the afternoon off to owl their parents and do anything else they require.

I even saw parents bringing their children back to Hogwarts; Zabini is back for all I've seen. And one of Geraldine's children insisted on going back to school.

Ah, well. Let's just see how all this works out. I have a meeting with a student this afternoon and I still have to make the prefect rounds scheme.

And there's a staff meeting, looking forward, I tell you.

September 8th. Gryffindor common room.

Ron heard the Fat Lady scream something at him, but he wasn't listening. He's reading the letter his mother and father owled him only minutes ago. It's nothing of importance, really. His mother spend an entire three foot parchment on ranting how much safer he'd be at home and reassuring that she and his father are OK.

He knew they were, but it was good to hear from them. He'd give Ginny the letter as soon as he ran into her.

"Hey, Harry," he said. But his friend didn't look up from the massive leather-bound book he was reading. "Harry?" he said. Louder this time.

"Oh, yes. What's up, Ron?" He asked, not taking his eyes of the pages.

"Mail from mum. What are you doing? McGonagall said we had no homework for tomorrow."

"I know. But there is a Charms essay we have to hand in next week," Harry said, absently minded. His head shot up and he scribbled something down on a piece of parchment.

"So? When did you become so… Hermione-ish?" Ron asked.

"She blackmailed me into researching that… that… god-awful union of Slytherin teenagers. She won't check my essay if I don't do this," Harry complained. And knowing Hermione, she would not let the case rest.

"Oi. Then she'll probably do the same to me," Ron said baffled. "But I like that G.U.S.T. you came up with. Let's just call it that. It makes a lot more sense than that puzzle 'Pmrtsgh lu Dzokfitrh'."

"I prefer D.I.S.G.U.S.T. Just paste Dreadful, Irritating and Slimy in front of it. It fits perfectly. Here," he said while he handed Ron an equally big book, "just look on the list for the ones we are still missing out on."

"What have you got?" Ron asked, reaching out for the parchment.

"Just the ones we expected. Narcissa Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, Andromeda Tonks--"

"Tonks' mother hung out with those bastards?" Ron said surprised. "But she married a Muggleborn, didn't she? Why would she hang with them?"

Harry had forgotten that Sirius only told the tale of the House of Black to him. They only thing Harry had told Ron about was that Malfoy, of all people, was related to Sirius. "Didn't I tell you? Andromeda is Bellatrix and Narcissa's sister."

"Gaw. No wonder she married a Muggleborn. I would."

"Could you just scan the list now?" Harry asked, practically shoving it under Ron's nose.

"Alright, alright."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Original Members '73:

L.M., Lucius Malfoy, obviously.

G.J.,

A.A.D.,

K.G., Korvin Gibbon (dead)

V.A.,

L.E.,

N.B., Narcissa Black Malfoy

S.B., The mystery that is Sonya Brown

B.B., Bellatrix Black Lestrange. Bitch.

R.W., The other mystery; Rufus Weasley

A.B., Andromeda Black Tonks

A.V.,

R.P., Rainier Parkinson (Pugginson). That man is an Auror, Harry! So…

D.C., Daniel Crabbe

S.O.G, Sebastian Olgo Goyle

A.R.W.,

S.F.

Added Members:

J.P.,

P.E.P,

D.S.L.,

X.K.,

F.K.S.,

S.S. Sleazy, greasy git. Snape.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Parkinson's father is an Auror? Who would've thought of that," Ron said.

"I know. You'd think that the whole bloody D.I.S.G.U.S.T. are Death Eaters." Harry slammed his volume closed. "This is taking far too long."

"Got any ideas, mate?" Ron asked hopefully.

"I do. But we can't do so until tonight," he said, with bling shimmering in his eyes that indicated that he must likely had thought of the best thing so far this year.

"Don't you dare keep me in the shadows," Ron warned playfully, "tell me or I make sure that you won't be able to perform Quidditch for the entire season."

"Yeah, you would, wouldn't you. No, we'll just have to nick Narcissa Malfoy's file from Snape's old office. He's got all files in his office. That git proves to be of some use," he said softly. Remembering that fatal night at the Astronomy Tower.

Ron noticed his friends mood swing. "C'mon. Let's go to the Great Hall for dinner. Food always cheers you up. Well, it does cheer me up. And may that not help, we can start throwing it to the Slytherins. Deal?"

"Sure," Harry grimaced.

September 9th 02.00 AM.

"Would you please shut you mouth?" Harry gritted though his teeth. "Why did you have to come again? You know three under on cloak is hard to conceal. And we have the map with us."

"I need to make sure that no one suspects anything!" Hermione said briskly.

"About what?" retorted Ron.

"About you two sneaking around, breaking and entering, stealing!"

"You're sneaking around too, you know. Besides, aren't you the one who wanted to find out who all the members of D.I.S.G.U.S.T. were?" Ron shot back at her.

"Yes, but that could also be done the proper way!" she said.

"Please, the both of you, shut it! I'm trying to concentrate on the map here." They were only one floor away from the Dungeons now. The biggest part of the journey down the corridors had gone unnoticed. They had to hid from Filch only once.

"Sorry, Harry, but she's bugging me."

"I am bugging you? How about--"

"Shush," Harry cut Hermione off. "There's…She's…How can…" he was baffled.

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

"Narcissa Malfoy," he explained, "she's walking inside a wall. At least, she's not in the hallway. There's nothing there. It's just the castle wall."

"Harry?" Hermione asked. "The map you're holding is made by four Gryffindors. What if… what if the Slytherins have their own secret ways of moving around in the castle. What if that place, where she is right now, is the exact place we should be looking our answers?"

TBC

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Note: Now, Passing Bells, that would be telling. I can't risk that everyone knows what the outcome of the plot will be now. evil grin