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- Harry Potter and the Library of Templar -

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Chapter Nine :

Erwin's Seven Tasks

A loud wail resounded through Gryffindor Tower, and Harry bolted up in bed, hand scrambling under his pillow. Jumping out of bed and slipping his knife into his sleeve, Harry pounded down sets of stairs until he came to the fifth landing. The door was ajar, showing groggy second years sticking their heads out of red hangings. Cautiously, as dormitory doors opened and curious heads poked out, Harry leveled his wand in one hand and gave a sharp jab to the door, causing it to swing open. Much to his surprise, Harry found Professors, Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Flitwick standing around a sobbing Euan Ambercrombie. McGonagall had her arms around him, apparently trying to comfort him.

Dumbledore turned, giving him a very clear look. Harry motioned all the boys out, and when none responded, he grabbed the nearest and gently, but firmly, escorted him from the room. The others followed. The door shut behind them and Harry was met with a cluster of boys on the stairs, all groggy, all DA wands at the ready. Below them stood a gaggle of girls headed by Hermione and Ginny.

"What is it, Harry?" Katie asked nervously.

"I think something happened to one of Abercrombie's parents," Harry replied. Faces relaxed instantly before they turned a guilty form of sad.

"Back to bed." Harry turned, surprised, to Ron, who stood just behind him, a very stern look on his face. A few looked about to protest, but Ron stopped them. "I won't have you lot pestering Euan. To your dorms. I don't care if you talk but get in a room. Now."

"Wow," Hermione said, as everyone obeyed, clearing out as though someone had spotted a deatheater.

"Us too," Ron added.

"I'm coming with," Hermione said. "We're not going to get any sleep. Well, I'm not, at least." Ron and Harry got approval from the other boys and the three headed into the sixth year dormitory.

Seamus hurriedly shoved on a pair of jeans, being in the habit of sleeping in his boxers. Harry was glad, for once, that he'd become accustomed to sleeping in Elvish sleep-ware, being completely respectable in tunic and loose fighting pants. Dean and Neville were anchoring their curtains back, settling on their beds with comforters wrapped around their bodies. Hermione sat herself on the end of Harry's bed, demanding a blanket.

"Isn't that yours Ron?" Dean asked, pointing to Hermione's shirt. Looking closely, Harry realized it was indeed Ron's from first year. Hermione blushed.

"Mrs. Weasley gave it to me this summer when all of my shirts were dirty," she muttered. A knock sounded at the door, which opened without hesitation and Ginny popped her head in.

"Ginny! It's not respectable for a girl to in the boy's dorms," Ron reprimanded. She just shot a meaningful look at Hermione before slipping over to Dean, who opened his blanket shelter for her. Hermione conjured a fire and they just sat in silence, finding comfort in their friends.

Another knock sounded, and whoever it was waited for an answer. Receiving the affirmative from Harry, Dumbledore opened the door, a grave look on his face. "Professor Dumbledore," Harry greeted. Dumbledore didn't seem the slightest surprised to find Hermione and Ginny in the room, though his did raise his eyebrows at Ginny and Dean's embrace.

"I assume you have all gathered that something has happened to young Mr. Abercrombie's family? His father and stepsister were murdered three hours ago by whoever it was that killed the curator." Harry's blood ran cold, a gasp of Elvish springing breathily from his lips. "Excuse me, I didn't catch that," Dumbledore said politely.

"How, er, how is he?" Harry asked awkwardly.

"How do you expect?" Seamus said, shivering. "If anything ever happened to my brother…." The statement hung heavily in the air, Ron and Ginny sharing their first cordial glance in weeks, both containing the same thought. Dean's arm tightened on Ginny. Harry couldn't help but steal a glance at Hermione, who was looking at him as well.

"I would like to see you in my office directly after breakfast, Harry." Dumbledore departed shortly after, to inform the other Gryffindors of the new loss.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Seamus said softly.

"For what?"

"Last year, and my mum and all," Seamus replied, downcast.

"I forgave you for that a long time ago," said Harry. "If… if I hadn't seen it, I don't think I would have wanted to believe it either."

"But you saw it, and it should have been enough for me," Seamus ground out.

"Gran once said that our best friends are the ones we fight with the most," Neville offered.

"Why's that?" Ginny asked.

"Because they mean the most to you," Ron answered.

"Balance," Harry said wryly.

There was nothing more they had to say and they sat there, looking at nothing in particular but finding comfort in each other's presence.

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Dumbledore made an announcement that morning at breakfast to the rest of the school. They had thirty seconds of silence for Eaun's family before a muted talking began again. The Gryffindors were the grimmest of the bunch, all having heard Eaun's mournful cry the night before. The lot of them had circles under their eyes. No one had gotten sleep that night. His year mates looked the worst, having been sent to the common room to sleep.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts class stood outside of the doorway, waiting for Professor Erwin to arrive. Five minutes late, she opened the door from inside. There was a sheen of sweat on the back of her neck, where a few fallen strands stuck, having escaped the confines of her plait. Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged a look, but continued into the room and settled themselves in their usual seats. As soon as everyone was settled, Professor Erwin conjured a podium and leaned against it.

"We spent all of last month working on spells you should have been taught your first, second, and fifth years. I believe you are sufficiently caught up, meaning that we can begin the syllabus. The most important thing you will learn this year is teamwork. No war has ever been won by one man. It takes an army. You will all learn to work as one. I don't care what relationships you have outside of this classroom, in here you are a team." She kept her eyes steadily between Harry and Malfoy. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy?"

"I won't ever be fighting alongside these… people," he said languidly. "So why should I have to work with them now?"

"Have you ever heard of the expression, because I said so?" Erwin snapped. "I don't give a damn who you think your allies will be when you get out into the big bad world. You're probably wrong. And it is not my job to cater to your predictions. You will have to fight with these students, Mr. Malfoy, if you intend to pass this class."

"What do you mean?" asked Susan, seated next to Hermione.

"To pass my class, you will have to go through a series of seven tasks. Each one will be created by a teacher Flitwick, Binns, Snape, McGonagall, Sprout, Sinistra, and Dumbledore. Mine is actually part of your exam, so it's not technically a task. Think of it as a game, much like in your first lesson. I presented you with a situation you had to get yourself out of. This next time, it will be harder. You will not know whose task is next, so that you cannot try and prepare for a task in their areas of expertise. For the first two, I will break you into four groups. Then you'll be in two groups for three tasks, and then you'll work as one. The times of the tasks are also going to be a surprise. It could happen at any moment.

"The point is to find a way for your team to work together and get through without losing any members. I will not assign leaders, if you want one specified person in charge, you must do that within your group."

Hermione's hand shot in the air, and Harry was surprised it didn't take off Susan's ear. "How are we to prepare, Professor?"

"Think of it as a lesson in war. You cannot study for it because you will not be able to study for the battles you will fall into once you leave this school. The world is a dangerous place." Hermione nodded, sharing a glance with Ron and Harry.

They all knew what the others were thinking. They couldn't stop from remembering all the things they had faced together.

"Now, I'm going to pair you up. Granger and MacDougal, Weasley and Brocklehurst, Potter and Bulstrode." She kept going around the room, Hermione giving Harry a sympathetic look, whereas Ron simply laughed at him. Susan was paired with Pansy Parkinson, to which Harry gave her an understanding look.

They spent the rest of the day playing trust games, or in Susan's case, falling down again and again as Pansy purposefully dropped her. Harry was surprised to find that despite the dirty looks Millicent was receiving from her housemates, she continued to do as Professor Erwin asked, catching Harry as he fell backwards, leading him safely through the blind maze, and so on.

As soon as they left her room, many heading for N.E.W.T. Potions, they all began discussing the tasks Erwin had been talking about. "Does she have any idea how dangerous it is to throw students into situations like that?" Hermione ranted.

"Hermione, we'll be fine," Harry soothed. "We've got to learn war conditions. She's right. We won't always know what is ahead of us. I think it's a brilliant idea."

"But a student almost died the first lesson, or did the giant pit escape your memory?" she snapped.

"Miss Granger," Professor Erwin called from her doorway. Hermione turned, still furious. "I have contacted Professor Snape and informed him you will be late for Potions. I would like a word, and perhaps a cup of mint tea." Hermione cast an apologetic look at Harry before returning to Professor Erwin's classroom.

"Wonder what she wants," Ron said, as they continued on. Harry shrugged, bidding him good-bye as Ron took a different corridor to get to the Muggle Studies classroom. Harry slipped behind a tapestry and jumped down the pole situated there, landing deftly behind a second tapestry on the main floor. He slipped out and made his way quickly to Snape's room, always sure to arrive ahead of schedule. The door was already open and he went in, sitting in the middle, so as not to be in the line of fire but at the same time not to look as though he was trying to slack off.

Professor Snape was exactly on time, the door slamming shut just as Padma Patil was about to enter. She swore loudly, her footsteps heard retreating. Snape never let any late-comer into his classroom. Harry decided to be diligent in his notes so that she could catch up on the lesson.

As usual, a potion appeared on the board, unnamed. Harry shorthanded the recipe in Elvish, finishing the notes first. After lighting his cauldron, he gathered the ingredients specified, making a trip to the N.E.W.T. storeroom. When he returned, tebo skin in hand, Snape was holding his parchment.

"Is something wrong, Professor?" Harry asked, slamming his ingredients down rather violently. A few of the students near him exchanged worried looks and Anthony Goldstein, who had taken the seat next to him, edged away slightly.

"What is this nonsense?" snapped Snape. "You were to copy down the potion."

"I did. It's shorthand."

"Unlike some, Potter, I am not dim. This is not a potion; it is gibberish," he snarled. Without further ado, he stuck it in the flame under Harry's cauldron.

"It wasn't gibberish!" Harry yelled. "It was-"

"Was what?" Snape asked, eyebrow arched, sneer in place. Harry glowered, furious.

"Nothing," he gritted. Grabbing up his quill, Harry began anew, once again scribbling in Elvish, knowing that Snape was hovered over his shoulder. Sure enough, the parchment was ripped from under his quill, and Snape set it aflame again. Taking out a fresh sheet, Harry began a third time. And once more, Snape destroyed it. This continued until Snape was worked into a right temper.

"OUT!" Snape bellowed. "Thirty points from Gryffindor, a week's detention, and I suggest you make your way to Dumbledore's office. NOW!" Harry was too happy to comply, grabbing his bag and cauldron, leaving the flame burning. He caught Susan's eye as he walked out, and she gave him a short nod.

Harry made his way quickly to Professor Dumbledore's office, snapping the password at the gargoyle irritably. Voices sounded from behind the door and Harry paused as he was about to knock.

"Am I doing this correctly?" a woman's voice asked. She sounded strict, but a gentle edge to her clear, sharp voice.

"Perfectly, Merilyn," Dumbledore assured her. "Come in, Mr. Potter." Harry gave a rueful smile as he opened the door and walked in. He finally thought to shrink his cauldron and replaced it in his potions kit. Dumbledore sat on the corner of his desk, his imposing penseive next to him. A short, sturdy woman sat in a chair before the pensive. Her gray hair was whipped up into a loose bun, a pair of spectacles perched on her nose, and a worn black handbag clutched on her lap. Laugh lines and wrinkle marks decorated her face and Harry was given the impression of an old cat that was still thought it was a kitten.

"Sorry," Harry said, remembering that he had been listening in.

"Quite alright, my boy. Curiosity is a great element to posses. Harry, I would like you to meet Ms. Goldsten. She runs an orphanage near Liverpool," Dumbledore introduced. "This is the student I was telling you about, Merilyn."

"Hello," Harry said politely, shaking her hand. She gave him a small smile.

"Ms. Goldsten was a young volunteer at the orphanage where Tom Riddle grew up," Professor Dumbledore said pleasantly. "She has kindly agreed to sacrifice her memories of the young man."

"He was a good-looking fellow," Ms. Goldsten recalled. "This does make your head spin, Albus."

"Why don't I call Minerva down and have her escort you to the hospital wing," the headmaster suggested. He quickly made the fire call, as Ms. Goldsten watched with huge eyes.

"This magic is just amazing!" she cried. Professor McGonagall arrived seconds later, gently guiding the old woman from the room.

"How may I be of service, Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore asked, seating himself behind his desk and motioning Harry into a seat.

"Snape sent me."

"Professor Snape, Harry," Dumbledore reprimanded. Harry simply scowled at him. "And why is that?"

"Because I was taking notes," Harry growled.

"Why don't we wait for class to let out? In the meantime, we'll take a look at our young Mr. Riddle." Dumbledore placed his index finger into the silvery liquid, and Harry followed suit.

They were in a small room, crammed with rows of bunk beds covered in rust, looking as though they would collapse at any second. A few children sat on the bottom bunks, playing with ragged decks of cards or making pretend. A young woman about Harry's age was swiftly folding sheets on the far side of the room. Her spectacles were perched primly on her nose, and Harry knew this was Ms. Goldsten, despite her auburn hair.

One boy sat in a corner, about maybe three years old. He held a smooth stone in his hand, staring avidly at it. Harry watched as a few older boys, maybe seven and eight, came over, malicious grins on their faces.

"Oi, Riddle," said one boy. "Nice stone."

"Thanks," Riddle mumbled.

"Give it here, then," another demanded. Riddle clutched it to his chest. It wasn't long before the boys were ganging up on him, wrestling it away, despite his protests and tears.

"Don't be such a baby," snarled the first boy, tossing the rock from hand to hand. Riddle glared at him through his tears. And suddenly, the boy went hurdling back across the room, slamming painfully into the wall, headfirst. Riddle stared eyes wide, before he walked over and picked up his treasure. He dug into the unconscious boy's pocket and pulled out a few other stones and coins.

"Mine," he whispered. Harry swore that the brown eyes had almost seemed red for a moment. "Anyone else?" he asked loudly.

"It is much worse than I feared," Dumbledore said softly. Harry had almost forgotten that he was there. "Riddle's transformation began long before Hogwarts." The scene changed, and once again, they watched Riddle be antagonized by the older patrons of the home. As Riddle grew older, Harry was sure he saw Riddle's eyes turn red on more than one occasion.

Suddenly, the memories stopped and Harry found himself seated once again in Dumbledore's office. He relaxed back in his chair, thinking about everything they had seen. Harry was beginning to see just the reason for Voldemort's actions. Appalled, he recalled the young girl ten-year-old Riddle had picked on, doing to her exactly what had been done to him. And for a moment, Harry was reminded of Snape, who antagonized students as James Potter had teased him.

As though on cue, Snape slammed into the room. "A little calmer next time, hmm, Severus?" Dumbledore advised gently.

"I refuse to let him off, no matter what twisted little tale the spiteful brat has told you this time," Snape snarled.

"I didn't say anything!" Harry cried indignantly. Snape's look showed he clearly did not believe Harry.

"What happened?" Dumbledore asked, offering Snape a lemon drop, to which he received only a dark scowl.

"In regular fashion, Potter was being insubordinate," Snape gritted out.

"I was taking the notes!"

"Yes, because your little scribbles were clearly the potion I had assigned!"

"It was El-" Harry cut of, breathing hard, and slouching pointedly in his seat.

"It was what? A little language you made up?" taunted Snape. "Did you use it to talk to your go-"

"Don't finish that sentence," Harry warned.

"You see, Albus! This boy is threatening me!"

"Avir mentik, tentiru makitai," Harry muttered. "It was shorthand."

"That was not shorthand!" Snape snapped. Harry pulled out a roll of parchment, labeled in large letters CHARMS, dated a few days earlier. He opened it to show the same collection of symbols.

"See, I take all my notes like this. I was simply doing the work." Harry slammed the paper down on Dumbledore's desk, glaring at the potions master.

"Ah, there now! No harm no foul. Young Harry just knows shorthand. No detentions needed, and of course you'll give him full credit for the day," Professor Dumbledore said, his smile not masking the direct orders. Snape glared at Harry one last time before sweeping from the room in his usual epic fashion. "Why don't we head off? I believe you have a Herbology lesson to get to." Dumbledore made his way out of the office, humming an unfamiliar tune, and Harry followed, shaking his head in amusement.

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The next day, Harry, Ron, and Hermione arrived early for charms to find Susan already sitting there, staring blankly at the wall opposite her. Hermione, without hesitation, sat next to her and gently linked their arms, Susan immediately resting her head on the offered shoulder. "You good?" Hermione asked, squeezing her hand. Susan let out a long breath and nodded.

Harry watched, an ache in his stomach. He wished he knew what to say, but he had lived his whole life without parents. It is easier to long for what you've never had than to miss what has always been there, Harry knew. Ron shifted, looking as awkward as Harry felt. The girls were talking quietly and whatever Hermione was saying seemed to be increasing Susan's spirits.

"Oh, I have the notes from potions for you," Susan said suddenly, reaching into her bag. She handed over an extra copy of the previous day's lesson. "I know Hermione's words are too big for you to understand."

"Thanks," Harry said dryly, giving the laughing duo next to them a dark look. "But I can guarantee I know a bunch of words Hermione doesn't." The aforementioned girl raised her eyebrow. "A whole other language you could say."

"That's not fair," Hermione complained, giving him a hurt look. Harry just grinned his famous grin and saw Hermione's face relax into amusement. "Very funny. Come on Ron, I don't fancy staying here anymore." She pulled the redhead into the room against his many complaints.

"You sure you're okay?" Harry asked after a moment.

"I'm far from okay," Susan said softly, "But I'm getting there. I don't think I'll ever be the same. Se la vi." She gave a shrug. "I'm glad you're concerned, though." A small blush crept up her neck that Harry thought was the most adorable thing he'd ever seen.

"I'm glad you're glad," Harry replied dopily. And without realizing what he was doing, Harry gave slipped his hand into hers, words spilling from his mouth. "Do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me?"

"Yeah, sure," she said happily, giving his hand a squeeze. Harry was extremely light-headed as they walked into the classroom, their hands still entwined. Hermione immediately popped into the seat next to Ron, where Harry usually sat, leaving her seat next to Susan vacant. Needless to say, Harry didn't remember much of the lesson the next day.

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Saturday, the eighteenth of October, was the best day for a Hogsmeade visit yet, in Harry's opinion. If he was being at all rational, he'd have realized that previous trips had been on warmer days, sunnier days, weekends without homework and revision. However, Harry being decidedly irrational, as one who's infatuated usually is. To top it off, Harry wasn't even worried about Voldemort attacking. The most urgent worry for him was what precisely to wear today on his non-date with Miss Susan Bones.

"For the love of Merlin, Harry, just pick one," Ron groaned. The whole dorm had been awoken early that morning by Harry, who was extremely anxious about whether or not he was going on a date, and Dean, who beyond giddy for his first official date with Ginny. Ron had nearly hexed poor Dean, but settled for continuously pouring cold water on his while he showered.

At the moment, Neville was taking his own shower, Seamus was looking for his favorite pair of jeans, Dean was carefully making sure his outfit was clean, and Harry was sifting through the entire contents of his trunk, looking for the perfect shirt. Ron was responsible for helping him, being Harry's best friend and all that.

"Ron, it has to be perfect," Harry snapped. "If it's a date, then I want it just right and if it's not I want her to want it to be." Ron groaned a long-suffering groan. There was a rap on the door, to which Seamus granted entry.

"Put on some pants before you let someone in!" Hermione shrieked at Seamus, who immediately went red, stuttering about thinking it was one of the boys. "Well don't just stand there." Hermione threw him a pair of jeans that were sticking out from under Neville's bed, which happened to be the pair Seamus was looking for. He pulled them on, and began searching for a shirt, his blush slowly creeping away.

"'Lo, Herm," Ron said lazily. Hermione sat herself on Harry's bed as well, looking with curiosity at the strewn clothes. "Harry wants to impress Susan." Hermione nodded her understanding.

"Well then," she said briskly. "Take a seat, Mr. Potter." Harry obeyed, dressed in a pair of slacks and his pajama shirt. "The first thing is pants. And no, those won't do. You need to look casual, yet hot. No comment needed, Ronald." Ron shut his mouth immediately. Hermione dug through Harry's trunk, making little noises all the while. Finally she pulled out a pair of dark blue jeans, worn in a few places and with a small rip in the back pocket.

"Those are ripped," Harry said. They'd been given to him by Bill Weasley a few years ago for Christmas.

"In the pocket," Hermione agreed. "Go put them on."

"Aunt Pet-" Harry stopped short, realizing what he'd been about to say. He grabbed the jeans and went into the bathroom to change, informing Neville that Hermione was there at the same time.

When he returned, Hermione was holding a deep red shirt, that buttoned up the front. "It's Collin's. I just went down and got it," she explained. "Put it on." Harry did as he was told and stood still as Hermione circled him. "Something is missing. Ginny!"

They all looked at her sharply, her piercing scream having taken them by surprise. There was a pounding on the steps.

"No need to wake the dead," Ginny snapped, entering the room. Her hair was swept into two need braids, a knit cap on her head.

"Give me your necklace," Hermione ordered. Ginny didn't hesitate in removing the leather band from her neck, and Harry saw it had a small ebony stone on it. "Go on." Hermione was holding it out to him. Harry tied it around his neck and the girls both nodded in approval.

"Lose it, Potter, and I'll make Fred and George look saintly," Ginny threatened. Harry nodded his understanding. "And wear the bracelet I gave you. Don't worry, it's manly." Harry did as told, feeling very much like a marionette, but deciding to listen to the girls just this once.

As soon as the rest were ready, the group headed down to breakfast, where Harry invited Susan to sit with them, following a sharp jab from Hermione. After a quick meal, Ron and Hermione headed off with Neville and Seamus, leaving Harry and Susan alone. Ginny wished him a quick good luck as she passed by with Dean.

"Where do you want to go?" asked Susan, as they headed out into the bright morning light. The days were just starting to turn cold and the air held the scent of fall. Susan had on a more decorative that practical scarf and a jean jacket. Harry had been ordered to borrow Dean's bomber jacket, which had been given to him by his grandfather who'd fought in World War II, and was glad for it now.

"Dunno."

"I have an idea," Susan said, pulling him on more quickly. Harry became quite nervous when they turned down the alley Madame Puddifoot's was on. But she passed the tea shop without a second glance, stopping in front of a candle store. "I want to show you something."

Bells jingled as they entered and Harry was surprised when no smells assaulted his nose. Aunt Petunia had often brought him into scent shops when he was younger on occasions Mrs. Figg was unavailable. He'd grown to hate the smell of the mixed scents. The Valley was nothing like those stores, and Harry supposed it was charmed to keep the candles at bay. Rows of colors appeared in perfect order on both sides of the center aisle. Susan pulled him back further where things became mixed, different sizes, colors, shapes.

"What're we doing?" Harry asked, not knowing why he hushed his voice.

"My mum loved to shop here. We'd come all the time when I was little. Even Aunt Mia would come, and she never really went anywhere," Susan said, her voice also quiet. Harry wasn't sure what he should say and he didn't want to muddle it up. "This one." Susan pulled a candle off of the shelf, a slightly off-white with yellow rose petals in it. "Rose Rain. Mum's favorite. She had perfume too; she always smelled like it." Susan breathed in deeply, tears pricking the side of her eyes.

Harry gently closed his hand on the candle as well, his fingers brushing hers. Gently he brought it to his nose and sniffed. The smell was pleasant, unlike anything Aunt Petunia ever had. Somehow it seemed familiar. Harry tugged Susan closer and held her in his embrace for a moment.

"I think I get it," Harry whispered. Susan smiled at him, seeming to feel much better. She replaced the candle on the shelf and moved on, grabbing a few down to smell as they went. When they reached the register, Susan had chosen a few candles to buy and did so, as Harry waited.

They proceeded to the Three Broomsticks for butterbeer and then to Zonko's. After a stop at Honeydukes, they traveled up to the Shrieking Shack to talk.

"I don't know why I said all those things before, about my mum," Susan said, staring up at the shack. Harry glanced at her, watching her ruby locks. "It's onlyour first date."

"It's a date then?" Harry asked, excited. She smiled and nodded. "Good. I was hoping…. So, um, does this mean we're, er, dating?"

"I suppose we are," Susan said. "And you know what people who date call each other?"

"Yeah," Harry murmured. "Now how to break the news to Mrs. Weasley that I've got a girlfriend."

"And I promise I don't blubber when I'm kissed," Susan joked, an old spark restored to her eyes. Harry smiled. He felt confident with Susan, a new sensation when it came to dating.

"Is that so?" He didn't know where the words were coming from, they were just coming.

"Mhmm." Harry was leaning closer to her, and suddenly, a strange sense swept over his as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He whirled around, eyes searching. "Harry?"

"Susan, go into the shrieking shack and there's going to be a trapdoor. Go through it until you reach the end. It comes out underneath the whomping willow. Immobilize it and get into the school. Tell the teachers Hogsmeade is under attack, and tell the to get here now. I want you to stay there," Harry ordered, his voice commanding and ominous.

"Is the DA going to fight?"

"No," Harry said, detached. Had he been paying attention, he'd have noticed something pass over her.

"Be safe," she called, dashing off to do as he'd asked.

Harry took off in a sprint, reaching the nearest students, who happened to be seventh years. "Hogsmeade is under attack. If you know the disillusionment charm, start working your magic. Otherwise get back to Hogwarts. Now."

"You're off your rocker, Potty," drawled Malfoy from nearby. "I don't see any danger." As he spoke, a loud explosion sounded from Madame Puddifoot's and shrieks filled the air.

"Bite me," Harry snapped. He took off again, until he reached Ron and Hermione. "Go, please."

"No such luck," Hermione said absently. "Ron and I will round up the DA and set the youngest ones in charge of getting everyone out. Here comes Ginny and Dean. You do whatever you have to."

"There are elves here," Harry informed them quickly. "Be very careful."

Without explaining, Harry shrugged off Dean's jacket, handing it to the friend before he conjured a set of long daggers, whirling around as more explosions filled the air; Harry met the blade swinging down on him. He pushed the attacker back, swinging out his weapons. He stood before an elf dressed in dark red. The eyes were pure black, such was the hair. And Harry jumped to avoid a leg drop kick, slicing off the elf's head as he landed. A cry came from around him.

Harry didn't pay attention, rushing to the Three Broomsticks, from where many elves were spilling forth, all dressed in the same deep red. Breath deeply, he pulled out a nearly invisible silver chain with a silver stone on the end. Reciting the incantation, the stone transformed into the silver frame that he'd traveled through so few weeks ago. And from it came a fierce looking elf that Harry knew as Kilarati.

"I summon my army," Harry said. Kilarati gave a sweeping bow before she vanished. Harry turned away, searching for death eaters. He wasn't disappointed as a swarm of black was emerging from the Hog's Head.

Harry sensed elves coming from his portal, dressed in silver, green, and purple. They raged, meeting the masses of red. From down the street he hear apparition pops as both the ministry and the Order arrived. Taking a deep breath, Harry cast a back shield on himself and pulled out his sword, giving a quick glance to the wizards and Dumbledore's Army before he transfigured his clothes and blended among the elves the battled over the grave of the Three Broomsticks.