1 The Benefits of Night Walking

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The night of 1 June 1995, Hogwarts.

The night corridors of Hogwarts have a special charm - the halls, deserted, filled with shadows and the glow of torches hung along the walls, seemed to hide many more secrets than during the day, when the clamour of crowded students was about to drive you mad. And all the time you could hear everyone wondering whether Skeeter was right in her "truthful" articles, or whether the Boy who had once again eluded the Unnamed One wasn't lying about how the Wizarding Tournament had ended.

Even now, after I'd nearly died in the graveyard, after I'd delivered Cedric's stiffening body to Dumbledore with a bewildered grimace on his frozen face, the touch of the cool breeze wafting through the corridors of the ancient castle helped to calm my heated forehead a little. It would be another half hour before I could go back to my bedroom, where the curtain of the bed concealed my absence, but Ron probably knew that I often walked alone in the castle.

I felt a little warmer at the thought of my friend-after he'd made sure I hadn't thrown my name in the goblet, we were a team again, and his and Hermione's support had helped me through the first few hours after the tragic end of the Tournament and the duel with the Dark Lord.

Checking the Map from my pocket, I was surprised to see Hermione and Ron walking towards me from the Gryffindor living quarters. Making sure that my friends were heading down the same corridor where I was sitting on the windowsill, I decided to play a little prank on them, as my invisibility cloak kept me safely hidden from view. I picked up my feet so that my friends wouldn't hurt them as they passed, and waited for them to appear.

At last, Ron and Hermione appeared around the corner, walking steadily, as if they were still in the middle of the night, arguing animatedly, as they always did. The closer they got, the better they could hear what they were talking about. Hermione seemed quite unhappy, and Ron was flushed with emotion.

- I don't know when this is going to end, I'm sick of listening to his moans and regrets. - Ron wrinkled his nose like a toothache.

- Ron, don't forget, this is your job, Dumbledore pays you, and your career depends on the Headmaster too.

- Paid... It's a pittance for what I have to do and listen to all the time!

- But if you fail, Headmaster Dumbledore won't help us get a job at the Ministry in the future! - Hermione put her hand on Ron's shoulder reassuringly. - 'And anyway, you'd better keep quiet for now, there's no telling who might overhear our conversation.

- Overhear?! - Ron snorted, "Who could overhear us in an empty corridor?!

- Just Peeves or any other ghost," Hermione said grudgingly. - Or even...

They walked past my window and left, leaving me puzzled at the phrases I'd just heard. Ron is getting money from Dumbledore? Hermione is on some secret mission for the Headmaster? So secret that they hadn't even told me about it? I forgot that I was going to make a joke about my friends, slid quietly out of my seat, and followed the couple, sneaking around.

A few minutes later they turned towards the gargoyle guarding the headmaster's office, and I quickened my step so that I could get next to them and slip into the narrow staircase while the stone statue was falling into place, hiding the passage.

The door to Dumbledore's office was already hospitably ajar, the rustling of parchments telling me that the Headmaster was still working despite the late hour.

- Come in, Mr Weasley, Miss Granger. I see you've been given my note. At last you and I have some time to discuss business. It's been a difficult end to the year, hasn't it? - The old man pointed to the armchairs opposite the window. - Lemon wedges? Tea?" he said, waiting until the boys were seated.

- No, thank you, Headmaster," Hermione answered for the two of them. - We've come to find out how to behave on holiday with Potter.

Only the stupor that had attacked me kept me from shrieking in surprise. As I approached the loose door, I turned to listen.

- First of all, you don't have to write to him all summer. - The principal's sneer made me cringe. - Let him sit alone at the Dursleys', the worse off he'll be, the more miserable he'll be, and when Molly invites our Chosen One to Burrow in August... He'll be much more... accommodating....

- Mr Dumbledore, why? - Hermione didn't finish. I thought for a moment that she was hesitating.

- The boy needs connections with the magical world," Dumbledore looked at the girl affectionately. - And by aligning himself with the Weasley clan, he will have that connection and the support of ordinary wizards.

I shuddered at the realisation of what the Headmaster had in store for me for the greater good.

- Mum wrote that she's already preparing a pot of Bonding Potion, waiting for Potter to crawl into our house," Ron grinned.

- Tell her again not to mix it with the Passion potion - the boy's feelings for young Ginevra will be better awakened when the Affection potion has taken effect and he trusts you both unconditionally again. And be discreet. Especially you, Ron, and your sister. I don't want Potter, like last summer, overhearing him getting a potion from Molly, then Bill, Charlie and Percy having to catch him all over the woods.... It's not a good idea to wipe his memory again.

I clenched my teeth into my lower lip, my mouth salty with blood. But the pain in my bitten lip was nothing compared to the hurricane inside.

- Mr Headmaster, would you mind updating your spell on Ron," Hermione said suddenly.

I turned to listen again, trying to catch the slightest nuance of the conversation.

- Are you sure, my girl? - The Headmaster stretched out, looking closely at Ron, who was getting a little nervous.

- 'Yes, Mr Dumbledore,' Hermione shook her head stubbornly. - 'He nearly snapped after the tournament when he spoke to Harry tonight, and tonight your spell has finally broken, and Ron is getting annoyed with Potter's company again.

- Good," the Headmaster stood up, pulling out his wand. - Mr Weasley, I appreciate your trust, which allows me to set you up to be friends with Potter again... and get paid accordingly. A hero needs helpers, and those who will prevent him from taking a wrong turn if need be.

Dumbledore waved his wand and whispered something, which I couldn't hear from my seat. But I saw Weasley, who was tense in his chair, shrouded in a haze of sun-white, and then visibly relax.

- I'm sorry, Mr Dumbledore," the redhead said somewhat guiltily. - 'I really almost had a fight with Potter today, and now I'm feeling better again.

- That's fine. And remember, this magic doesn't make you friends with anyone, it just takes away the irritation directed at that person.

A dumbfounded expression appeared on Ron's face, but Hermione, who was listening intently to the headmaster, nodded affirmatively.

- Here's your money for the summer, you'll have to work hard this summer too. - The sugar in Dumbledore's voice made you want to choke yourself. - Your pass to the Forbidden Section of the library has already been renewed for next year, Miss Granger, and I've spoken to Madam Pince and she's agreed to loan you some books for the summer.

Realising that the old bastard's 'audience' was over, I began to quietly make my way downstairs so as not to get in the way of my 'friends' leaving the office. The magic of the invisibility cloak was beyond even a great light wizard, so I managed to remain undetected. As I jumped out of the now-open passage in front of the descending Gryffindors, I walked quietly to wherever I was going, completely crushed by what I'd heard. The pain of betrayal by the people closest to me was tearing at me, and I wanted to smash my fists against the walls, screaming at the top of my voice, cursing the Headmaster and the Weasley family for thinking they had the right to control my life. Gritting my teeth and ignoring the tears streaming down my cheeks, I clung to the walls and made my way to some ancient hall that hadn't been visited in a long time, judging by the flakes of dust on the floor and the decayed furniture. Once safe, I fell to my knees, trying to smash my head against the floor and dull the pain of a heart torn by betrayal with the pain of my body. An involuntary burst of magic turned all the furnishings in the room to ash, except for the stone chest, an ugly, scorched stain in the centre of the room. A hoarse, despairing half-cry-half-wail tore from his throat, his fingers scrabbling at the soot-stained stone slabs.

Through the whirlwind of out-of-control magic that raged around me came the backlash of Hogwarts' magic protecting it from damage. A cold, ancient force, not fully under the control of even the Headmasters, touched my consciousness powerfully, taking away the pain.

Before I fell asleep, I managed to utter in a weak voice:

- Dobby! - The houseboy emerged from the void, his eyes bulging as he saw the ruined hall. - Take me to the chair by the fireplace, clean my clothes, and tidy this place up. And keep quiet about it!

* * *

- Harry! What are you doing here?! - Ron's surprised voice snapped me out of my dream. I squinted and reached for my glasses that had fallen during the night, but Hermione's warm hand gently lowered the glasses from the floor to my nose.

- We saw you sleeping in the chair in front of the fireplace this morning Harry, you can't make fun of yourself like that! - Hermione looked at me with slight disapproval.

At that moment, I remembered what had happened the night before. And if it hadn't been for the power of Hogwarts still shrouding my soul in a veil of snowflakes, I probably would have yelled at them, cursed them with some nasty spell in front of everyone, but now I just jerked sharply, raising my hands to my face and clutching my head.

- What, Harry, a scar? - Hermione spoke up with concern in her voice. - 'Shall I take you to Madam Pomfrey?

- No," I forced my voice to sound calm. - I just fell asleep in an uncomfortable position, and now I have a headache.

- Get up, the train leaves in an hour, you slept through breakfast. - Ron walked up the stairs leading to the boys' bedroom. - Dumbledore had made such a speech today, about the return of the Unnamed One, that everyone but the Slytherins had been impressed.

- Dobby! Bring me a light breakfast, please. - Ignoring Granger's raised eyebrows and her readiness to attack, I savoured the still-hot croissants and coffee. - Hermione, you're going to set me on fire with that look. - I tried hard to keep the phrase with a friendly chuckle, though my inner voice demanded that I use Cruciatus on the traitor.

As we descended into the hall filled with rushing students, we encountered the departing delegations from the other schools. The Durmstrang students, who had lost their headmaster last night, were following in a column behind Kram and a senior student I didn't recognise as leaders. Krum, despite the fact that we were rivals in the tournament, gave me a friendly nod like an old acquaintance, and I had to wave at him, causing another envious glance from Ron, who hadn't decided to ask for his idol's autograph.

- Harry! - A soft female voice caught me off guard.

A graceful girl, deftly manoeuvring between the students rushing to the exit, approached me, striking the others with her perfect beauty.

- Fleur.

- I wanted to say thank you, Harry," Veela smiled charmingly. - You saved my little sister Gabrielle and we owe you a debt of gratitude. If you ever need help, send me an owl. - Hot lips brushed against my cheek, dispelling the pain inside for a second.

- I'll remember, Fleur. - I grinned and looked over at Ron, who was standing there with glassy eyes, completely out of reality, and Hermione, who was flaring her nostrils angrily. Why is my perpetually dishevelled 'best betrayer' annoyed, though?

* * *

The further away from Hogwarts the train got, the weaker the spell I'd cast on my mind during the night became, and I began to shake again. The urge to grab my wand and bash Ron's smile deep into his skull was becoming unbearable, and Hermione's endless cries of separation from the Hogwarts library were awakening thoughts of the Torture Curse. Finally, when I felt like I was going to explode with rage and tell the traitors what I thought of them, the compartment door swung open with a bang, and I took great pleasure in launching Stupefy at Malfoy, who hadn't even had a chance to open his mouth to say something nasty. The Stupefy beam, created with maximum effort and fuelled by my anger, threw the blond into the corridor, but the impact with the wall was softened by the bodies of his bodyguards, knocked down by the flying suzerain. A Confundus thrown in the corridor was enough to seal the effect, and the trio of Slytherins stumbled helplessly to the floor, suddenly forgetting how to get to their feet.

Ron was staring at me with his mouth hanging open.

- Harry, you can't do that to a ferret! - The redhead was just choking on his words.

- Harry James Potter! - Hermione's voice, shaking with indignation, cut Ron short. - How could you curse a student, even that creep Malfoy! Snape might take a couple of hundred points off the faculty next year for that!

- Hermione, Snape will still take those points off Gryffindor. He hates me as much as he hates my father. And Malfoy came here to mock me.

Oddly enough, the charge of magic I'd released at Malfoy had helped keep me from having a nervous breakdown, after which I'd probably wake up in St Mungo's with my memory of the last few days erased by the sly bastard. With an incredible effort I forced myself not to pull away from Hermione and Ginny who were hugging me, I walked towards my uncle, who seemed to have grown even fatter in the time we had not seen each other. Thankfully, Mrs Weasley, who was hugging the twins by the next carriage, hesitated, and spared me from what had become a disgusting 'motherly hug' - I don't know if I would have been able to restrain myself if the woman had tried to come any closer.