Chapter 16: We Are Under Attack!

THE BINDING OF FATES

CHAPTER 16

WE ARE UNDER ATTACK! (DEFENSE AGAINST D.A.D.A)

Summary: Is it paranoia if they are really out to get you?

Breakfast was a tale of two worlds. One was of an excited student populace seeing friends and familiar faces embarking on a new year at Hogwarts. The other, an isolated lightning rod of panic and suspicion.

Harry scrutinized everyone.

No one was safe from his piercing gaze. Many averted their eyes when his eyes caught theirs, even the older students. Someone had wiped out Hagrid's chicken coup, and no matter how indiscriminate it appeared, Harry knew the culprit really wanted to kill the few roosters there. He told Jon to look out for symptoms of possession by the Horcrux during the short journey back up to the main hall. However, the true magnitude of the danger the school was in could not be expressed in such a short span of time.

The Basilisk's gaze was fatal. It was only due to extremely lucky circumstances that Hermione, Colin, Justin and Penelope were only petrified. And, a student possessed by Voldemort was no laughing matter either. Unfortunately, with the diary supposedly safe and locked away, Harry had no clue which Horcrux was in play nor who was being manipulated.

Wait. That wasn't true.

The Cup! Hermione, Ron and himself stole it from the Lestrange's Vault. He knew he had a 'Malfoy-did-it' obsession before that everyone thought was ridiculous, but this time it could only be him. Lucius Malfoy probably had some way to get it from the vault, and used Draco to bring it here.

He did look a bit under the weather last night at the Welcoming Feast.

Harry had to act fast. Whoever was behind this was sinking further and further into Voldemort's control as the days went on. His head hurt, and his face was damp with perspiration, even in the cool morning air of early Autumn. His magic was volatile, almost on the brink of sparking through the multiple weapons on his person.

Harry currently had five wands on him: one in each of his specialized boots, his regular Troll Hair on Holly in his pants pocket. Their prototype Diablo wand was in the bracer, and the Niffler tail wand tucked in the inner pocket of his Hogwarts robe. That would be his go-to disarming weapon for now.

Jon was the epitome of well acted normalcy. Polite, quiet, and eerily relaxed as students from Gryffindor asked him measured questions. But Harry noticed that Jon was not immune to the tense situation as well. From time to time Jon would slip his right hand into his left sleeve, touching the Diablo wand secured in the invisible threstral bracer. Jon's normal Olive branch wand with Dragon heartstring was in his regular pants pocket.

Alexandria was undoubtedly the star of the morning. Shea even came across and said hello. One thing about Hogwarts students is that they missed nothing when it came to inter-house interaction. A Slytherin fifth year greeting a new Gryffindor girl was not something seen every new term. She sat down next to Jon, who the Quidditch team seemed to hold in very high regard. Even more so now as Alexandria had no qualms about sitting with lower-class students, even passing Jon platters of food which Jon could have stretched and reached for himself. Jon thanked her politely and continued small talk with Alexandria, Hermione, Katie and the twins.

Harry was definitely not in a talkative mood. Even Ron was catching on. He probably deduced that something was up with him, but uncharacteristically decided on listening in on the two newcomers' discussions rather than pry. Harry thought for a second that Ron was being quite observant but then pushed that thought away as he realized that Ron was more focused on the what the pretty French girl was saying and her mannerisms.

Schedules were handed out, and breakfast came to an end when the bell rang for their first class: Herbology.

Harry was scanning the behavior of everyone he laid his eyes on as they went about in various directions towards their respective classes; especially students that seemed to be heading in the shortest route towards Myrtle's bathroom. "Jon," Harry indicated that he follow him. Both boys stepped away and Harry dropped his voice to a whisper.

"I have to make sure the chamber hasn't been opened already. Prepare another letter to Tonks. We need her to source the closest chicken farms so we could raid them for roosters, tonight if possible. I think your sleep spell would be best to capture them. I will need a snake as well. I can command it to go down and check to see if the inner sanctum has been opened. Don't tell her why we need the locations of the farms. Not yet. I hope she trusts you enough to help."

"Our talks have been tense, but she still will listen. I am dreading the day when she decides to question me. My story has held for now, but sooner or later she is going to want the truth," Jon whispered back.

"She might. Just watch out for that Secret's Unveiled potion."

"Can't I just explain?"

"Negative. That's a no-no. At least my excuse of 'time travel' is a known legend amongst wizards. Resurrection and Dimensional travel? She'll freak out." Harry folded his arms.

"Freak out?"

"Go crazy."

"I see," Jon frowned. "I'll improvise if it comes to that. I could do without any kicks to the head."

"Funny. I'm surprised she hasn't figured out that Time travel keeps the person exactly the same...no age change or anything. Technically, I should look like eighteen if it really was 'time travel'."

"You seem quite sure of this phenomenon," Jon hissed.

"Hermione and I did it before. Only a couple hours jump. But we saw our past selves doing stuff we did before. It's crazy."

Jon rubbed his eyes and his face.

"That means two Harry Potters running around at the same time."

"Bingo." Harry nodded.

"Bingo?"

Harry sighed. "It means you are spot on correct."

"Magic is getting more and more crazy by the second."

"Tell me about it. Things are changing already. All this is sorta new. And dangerous." Harry nodded, scanning the students who went up the western staircase. Hermione waved at him.

"Coming Harry?" Hermione asked as she slipped her bag over her shoulder. Ron also pulled up short, waiting on the both of them.

"Um... Yeah," Harry replied, focusing on his nearby friends. He even took a hard look at Ginny, who seemed to be fine. She caught him staring at her and blushed, dipping her head as she followed Professor McGonagall to their first class. "Take Jon down, I gotta go to the loo. Be there in a bit. Cover for me if Sprout asks."

"Professor Sprout," Hermione corrected. "All right, but don't be long! Jon?"

Harry and Jon bounced fists and Jon picked up his bag and followed Ron and Hermione down to the greenhouses. When he was about to leave, Harry noticed that Alexandria was still seated; watching her schedule and worrying her lower lip. He hung back, watching her. She was intensely focused and made no move to get up from the table.

"Hey," Harry said behind her. She started, caught unawares.

"Oh! Harry, you surprised me!" she hit him playfully on his leg. "I cannot understand these instructions to my potions class. It says 'dungeons', does that mean...prisons? Zis school has classes in prisons?"

"No, we call the floors below ground the dungeons. Come, I'll show you." He offered her his hand.

"Merci," she took it and rose to her feet, gracefully stepping over the long bench with Harry's helping hand. She stopped, scrutinizing his uniform and face. "You have gotten taller. Impossible."

Harry smiled. Katie had said the same thing. "From my humble experience, rescuing damsels in distress gives them exaggerated opinions on their rescuer," he joked.

"Oh really? Why do you say that?" she folded her arms and wrinkled her nose.

"Katie told me the same thing yesterday."

"Maybe because it iz true?"

"Maybe. But I did help her out this summer holidays when that guy's-" he pointed to Draco -" evil father tried to hex her at her job. Don't tell anyone though. That secret is only between the three of us... and Tonks. Katie doesn't even know yet. I'm letting you know because you don't know what he's like, and how his family operates. Be careful around him."

Now more than ever

"He looks like a Thomas, or a Malfoy," Alexandria observed.

"Malfoy, right on the money. He's Lucius' son."

"Thank God Uncle V advised against inviting him last minute," she whispered. "He heard that our mutual business associates were distancing themselves from Malfoy when the British Aurors came knocking at a social event at his house. Embarrassing, but it appears that nothing substantial came of it. We retracted their invite, regardless of the outcome of the investigation." Draco had turned a corner and was now out of sight. "And he looks young."

"He is in my year," Harry shrugged. Alexandria playfully dismissed that fact with a smirk.

"You two are heroes. Mes chevaliers immortels," she smiled at him.

"Right. I forgot about that."

Harry and Alexandria walked along the halls, continuing with their small talk as they weaved through hustling students.

"Potions and Charms are my best studies. What is ..." she looked at the timetable- "Professor Snape like?"

"He is... complicated. Mean. Nasty. A bully. A genius level potions alchemist. Expert with knowledge of the Dark Arts. Dangerous."

Alexandria's eyebrows shot up. "And he teaches here?"

"Yeah. Believe it or not, Professor Dumbledore puts his faith in him. He hates Gryffindors and dotes on his little Slytherin Snakes. Probably going to be the teacher you hate the most," Harry's expression soured. The man laid his life on the line for almost twenty years, and was instrumental in Harry getting the knowledge to finish off Voldemort. He still couldn't afford to offer any positives to Alexandria on the incredible scope of his bravery, and loyalty to the Light. It would contradict everything the students perceived of Severus Snape.

"...Don't lose your temper, and keep your wits when dealing with him. He may seem unfair, but arguing against his bias won't get you anywhere. It makes it worse."

"Damn," she whispered. "Sounds like a monster. I will take your advice and play it very safe," she agreed.

They arrived outside the Potions classroom and Alexandria was the last student in queue. "Thanks!" she waved with a smile. "Wish me luck!"

Harry gave her a salute and grinned. He turned on his heel and hustled back out of the dungeon levels and back to the ground floor. Jogging now, he made his way to his room and retrieved his invisibility cloak. He glanced at the clock in the common room. Almost fifteen minutes of his class had passed already. He cursed as McGonagall would most probably be looking for him at lunch break to issue detention for skivving off Herbology.

Fate really had a way of causing certain events to happen. Ron and himself were given detentions by both Snape and McGonagall for crashing the Anglia into the Whomping Willow. He could probably bet a thousand galleons that Ron somehow would get himself into detention by the end of the day. Another thousand would probably be on Snape being the dastardly disciplinarian.

Within a few more minutes he was at Myrtle's bathroom. When he was sure it was clear, Harry drew his wand and opened the door. He stood still as a statue, alert, focusing on the silence within the gloomy space. No Parseltongue murmurings could be heard.

"Lumos!" He pointed his wand at the ground in the dim bathroom. The fine layer of dust was not disturbed by any signs of recent footprints. He aimed his bright light at the entry to the chamber where the faucets and sinks were. The porcelain and paint seemed intact, no seams or crumbled stone indicating that it was ever opened.

Nobody had come this way as yet.

He closed the door and took out his Fwooper feather wand. He walked backwards from the doorway, casting the Confundus charm in a zig zag pattern of tiles leading towards the entrance. Hopefully that would dissuade anyone from attempting to go inside this particular bathroom until he solved this mystery of the Rooster killer.

The defense class was right after lunch. Harry already had his prophesized detention slip in his pocket. Right now the year two DADA class was subdued, waiting on the new teacher to come out from his room. After a couple minutes had passed, a Hogwarts house elf opened the classroom door carrying above his pointy ears what appeared to be an ancient record player complete with an obnoxiously big speaker horn. The large megaphone-shaped speaker bobbed along the middle corridor and the elf eventually placed it on the teachers desk. He climbed on the teacher's chair and took out a record from a trunk that had floated in behind him. With a showman's flip of the flat black disc, the house elf placed the record on the turntable and snapped his fingers. The player began to spin. With deft fingers, the house elf shuffled and pulled the record back , making a bass beat scratch out loudly from the speakers.

The whole class was dumbfounded by the tiny elf DJ seriously at work. The Elf stopped his intro, letting the record spin twice as fast as it caught up to the beginning of a track. A loud Public Service Announcement ding emanated throughout the classroom.

"Allow me to re-introduce myself. My name is LO!- OH! Lo-to-the-Cee Kay!"

There was a loud bang and a huge cloud of smoke. Lockhart appeared wearing what appeared to be Aviator shades and a sixteenth century top hat. He was dressed in flashy lavender robes, singing into a World War II SCR 536 two way radio.

"I used to move Galleons by Grin to the Gee Tay!" He gesticulated, pulling a massive gold chain from his neck.

And on it went for about two minutes, Professor Lockhart spitting some fire along with DJ Towel Fresh on the tables. One or two of the students were actually nodding their head to the beat, while the rest was literally frozen, too astonished to move, just watching each other with bewildered expressions. Harry and Jon drew their wands under the tables. This reminded them of the weird and extremely erratic behavior Katie was exhibiting when Malfoy planted the Horcrux on her.

"Hermione, Ron. Go and get Professor Dumbledore. Dean, stop that. He's been cursed, or confounded. Go with them, keep your wands drawn. It is not safe." The three of them carefully got out of their seat and kept low as they exited out the class.

"Got the hottest witch in game wearing my chain, that's right -OH!"

"Lockhart and Malfoy were in Flourish and Blotts for the beginning of the term last time around," Harry informed Jon. "When the book was initially given to Ginny. Seems he got to Lockhart instead."

They both stood up out of their seats as the ridiculous performance continued.

"No direct curses on Lockhart. Weapons free on the elf," Harry ordered Jon. They both brandished their wands.

"Stupefy!" Harry shouted, aiming at Lockhart. The spell shot true, then amazingly Lockhart expertly deflected the bolt of magic at the last instant. Harry froze, lowering his wand.

Well, that is DEFINITELY something new...

Lockhart unbelievably continued with his rap, except now he was focusing solely on Harry, battling verbally towards him. Harry could have sworn that the white of his eyes were now turning pink in colour.

"Depulso!" Jon shouted at the elf. The elf and his record player went careening towards the blackboard. The record player broke into pieces, the gaudy horn clattering loudly on the ground. "Incarcerous!" Black embalming bandages shot out of his wand and wrapped the elf from head to toe. Lockhart stopped, comically frozen mid syllable.

The whole class went deathly silent.

As if a puppet's strings were cut, the Defense teacher's posture slumped. His head fell forwards, arms hanging lifelessly at his sides. His back hunched over unnaturally. Lockhart flicked his arm and a wand snapped into his hand. He slowly looked up and grinned at the two boys facing him. Harry could recognize that expression anywhere, it was a constant nightmare ever since year five.

The situation turned deadly serious. Lockhart lowered his centre of gravity and aimed his wand.

"Get out of here! Go! Go!" Harry screamed. "Jon! Shields! Protego!" Harry commanded, bringing up a shield using the bracer on his left arm.

A blood red, scorching bolt of magic shot out from Lockhart's wand, splashing against his shield and igniting the paintings and shelves lining the wall. Screams, screeching of chairs and a mad scramble ensued as the dozen or so remaining students ran out of the class.

Harry retaliated with his troll hair wand casting a powerful levitation spell. Lockhart flew up in the air as if he were shot out of a cannon. Amazingly, he flipped; and cast a cushion charm then a sticking charm onto the ceiling. Lockhart was spread out like a human spider on the ceiling. With lightning speed he fired three spells at the chain supporting the iron chandelier.

"Diffindo! Reducto! Depulso!"

The massive chandelier was severed from the ceiling, falling over the two boys. Harry countered with Winguardium, which froze it for only a fraction of an instant. Lockhart's Reducto curse immediately shattered it into fragments and his banishing chain finisher sent scalding hot debris from above towards Harry's shield. The Protego Charm shattered under the deadly barrage. Red- tipped metal shards ripped through his bracer shield and sink into his left arm, torso and his face. Harry staggered and was on his way down when a wrecking ball slammed into his right side. He registered that Jon had bodily tackled him and flung him across the desks on his left. He rolled off the unforgiving furniture and crashed in a heap against the bookshelf.

Harry's vision was red, his world was pain. His left arm felt like it was mangled in barbwire. His face was a searing oven of heat and blood. Jon was scampering over the desks, running away from the ensuing attack spell chain. The desks and furniture behind him exploded as Lockhart tracked them with another combination of Bombarda and Confringo. Jon threw his frame over the last desk and poured pure desperation into his bracer as he crouched in front of Harry. The Aegis, a multi-layered crystalline shield, rippled to existence in front of them. A red splash of Enflamare fire curse engulfed the shield, making Harry's world an even redder hell.

"Stay down, keep cover!" Jon screamed. The flame based spells suddenly cut off, and now was replaced by a long string of Latin. Jon crouched low in front of Harry, his Aegis shield protecting him from a multitude of multicolored spells lancing from Lockhart's wand in rapid fire. Desks, books and chairs crashed against it.

"Watsh outh.. fug thuh greens spullz- you c-can't block t-t-them.." Harry gurgled. "Doddgg... Runnngg.." Why couldn't he speak properly? Why did it feel like he was missing his left arm now? He tried to look down to his left, but that eye was registering only black and red.

"Stay down! Keep behind me if you can," Jon bellowed as he drew his Diablo Wand. Lockhart was scampering like a massive spider along the ceiling, trying to find an angle to get past the defense. Jon tracked him, allowing various projectiles to bounce off his Aegis.

Both wand and the bracer began to glow a bright white. When the continuous barrage lapsed for a moment, he cocked back his arm like a javelin thrower and heaved. The previously innocuous nine inch wand transformed mid flight into a massive Diablo claw and pierced Lockhart's attempted shield and skewered him through his chest, pinning him to the ceiling.

Lockhart looked at the massive toothpick lodged into his chest with astonishment. His wand clattered to the ground. His hands slowly curled around the engorged Diablo claw. As soon as he did this, he began to stiffen, then his skin turned a pale gray, fully petrified. The stone ceiling splintered behind him, and with agonizing slowness, his stone body slid off the claw and smashed into the ground. Pieces of his hands broke under the weight of his body with a crunch.

Jon summoned his Diablo spear piercing the ceiling using Harry's Niffler wand. It reverted mid flight to its previous shape and he caught it out the air. He set it back into his bracer. He pointed the Niffler wand again , this time at Lockhart.

"Kleptopliss!"

Lockhart's watch, a pouch of coins, a ring full of keys and his gold chain came tumbling along the ground towards him. Jon picked up his backpack and levitated these things inside it. The bookcases near to the front of the class were now completely on fire. He was never successful casting the Aguamenti spell and Harry was in no condition to move, far less cast any spells. Harry was struggling to turn his head to the left, trying to figure out what was going on with his body.

"Look here, don't look at it. On me," Jon said, crouching next to Harry. He kept a firm index finger on the crown of Harry's head, the only place not covered with blood. Jon's lips drew into a thin line as he surveyed the damage. "Eyes on me. I'm going to get you out." Jon scooped both of their bags and pointed his Hippogriff feather wand at Harry.

"Winguardium mobilicorpus!"

Harry made a gurgling sort of scream as he was levitated off the ground. He tried to turn his neck to the left to see what was the god-damned awful sensation where his arm should be. Firm, but gentle fingers restrained the top of his head, once again.

"Keep your head still and don't look at it!" Jon ordered as he transported him out of the burning classroom. "This place is going up in flames. Madame Pompfrey will help you soon. I swear to it."

Harry could only gurgle some more as more black smoke entered his lungs and heat piercing into his right eye. The door opened and glorious cool air rushed into his mouth. The right half of his vision contained the ceiling and the hallway; a blurry grey of stone and dusty windows. The left side was simply pain painted in red and black. After a few seconds of riding the up and down wave of levitation he couldn't feel his face anymore.

"It's bad... innit?" Harry used his right arm to point to his face, delirious. His mouth felt full of blood. It was getting hard to breathe. "I can't feel...or see."

"It is. I will get you to the healer."

"Nevr...bin thish bdly hrt bfore..."

"Jon!" An authoritative voice called. "Oh Merlin help us... Get him to the medical wing! At once!"

Harry barely acknowledged a tall midnight blue shape with a triangle of white hanging from a pale face. "Severus!" the blue shape shouted. "Help get him to the infirmary! I will see to the fire."

"Goodness." A dark shadow leant over, blocking the meager light. "Open, Potter. This will help," a hoarse voice which sounded terribly like Professor Snape commanded. Something cool was pressed against his lips. Harry decided it was time he close his eyes.

Well, the one he could feel, anyhow.

Jon watched on as Professor Snape administered the potion. Harry's left arm was a bloody mess of shredded robes and tissue. The left side of his face was completely mangled, with bits of metal protruding out of his cheek and forehead. The left eye was severely damaged and covered with swollen flesh, blood and a clear, pus-like substance.

"Mr. Black, I will clear the halls in front of us, no one is to see him like this," Snape commanded. "Keep him as steady as you can. Can you do that?"

Jon nodded, not totally sure, but there was no alternative right now. The headmaster was dealing with the inferno behind them. Snape drew his wand and flicked three times. A ghostly white patronus message shot forth to different areas of the school. "With me," he ordered and strode purposefully down the hall, casting aversion hexes at intersections where students might cross their paths. Any students who did encounter Snape quickly turned on their heel and ran away when they saw the grim expression on his face.

Jon kept to his task, concentrating as hard as he could on keeping Harry level. Within a couple minutes they arrived at the doors to the Infirmary. Snape raised his hand to halt. He poked his head in. Madame Pompfrey, McGonagall, Flitwick and Sprout were there waiting.

"Are classes cancelled and students returned to their common rooms?" Snape asked immediately.

"Yes, Severus," McGonagall snapped. "What is the meaning of this alarm?"

Snape ignored the question. His eyes took in the empty beds, all except one that had curtains drawn. "Who is that in there?"

"Miss Penelope Clearwater. She has been confounded." Pompfrey informed.

"Is she sedated?" Snape demanded.

"Yes, what is going on?" Flitwick pressed again.

"Something very, very ...sinister," Snape pushed open the double doors. "Brace yourselves. Potter has been severely injured. Mr. Black, bring him in."

The teachers gasped as Harry was levitated in. Pompfrey immediately took over the hover spell and laid him gently on the closest bed.

"What happened?" she demanded. She was using a medical charm to remove the destroyed sleeve off his left arm.

"Shrapnel from the destroyed chandelier propelled with magic," Jon informed. "It was red hot after being obliterated with Reducto."

"Who did this?" McGonagall whispered. Madame Pompfrey conjured a massive magnifying glass to hover over Harry's face.

"Lockhart. Possessed. And confounded."

"Lockhart?" Sprout cursed. "That ponce? Has Albus dealt with him?"

"No. He is dealing with the fire."

"So what happened to Gilderoy?" McGonagall demanded.

"Dead."

"What? By whom?"

"We battled," Jon declared. He did not extrapolate further.

"You, what?" Snape snapped, watching Jon with a deadly glare. Jon didn't seem remotely concerned.

"I also dealt with the weird elf creature. Should still be alive, he was easily restrained." Snape studied the young man for a few moments.

"At least you are efficient," Snape murmured under his breath.

"Start from the beginning, young man," Sprout sighed, more confused than before. Jon calmly explained to them the weird chain of events while Pompfrey took out long metallic tweezers and gauze.

"Something, changed, you say. Instead of acting confused and foolish, you described his manner as puppet strings being cut. And then he got aggressive."

"Pretty much. He was singing and rhyming into a device. Then when we tried to stop him, he opened with Bombarda and Enflamare."

"By all things holy," Flitwick swore. "That doesn't make any sense..."

"It didn't make any sense...but we were there and that is what happened...and this was the outcome," Jon indicated Harry's condition.

The teachers and Jon stood a respectful distance away as Pompfrey worked on Harry. She unlaced the bracer and put it on the bedside table. There was a cloth soaked in potion over his injured face, and she was diligently using tweezers and scalpel on his bicep, shoulder and forearm. There was a metal bowl filling up with extracted shards of metal and embedded pieces of blood soaked robes. After ten minutes of this she encountered some longer slivers of metal that were not coming free. It had lodged into the bone.

Albus strode through the door, levitating two disillusioned shapes in front of him. His face was solemn. "How is he, Poppy?"

Madame Pompfrey huffed, putting her hands on her wide hips.

"I will have to remove, then re-grow the bones in this arm. And use re-knitting potion on the flesh. The damage is too severe to try to surgically repair. There may be a slight possibility the eye can be saved, but I will need Severus to brew an eyesight repairing potion and a particularly tricky eyeball restorative. Some of the metal has gone very deep in his face. The only positive is that the metal itself is not cursed, which should make healing spells and medicine work without too much of an issue after the physical repair is done."

Albus removed the disillusion spells and placed the bodies on two beds. The heads of house scrutinized Lockhart's stone skin and broken hands. His mouth was opened wide, his nose chipped. Albus covered Lockhart with a white sheet. "He was dead before the petrifaction set in. He did not deserve this," Albus said sadly. "He was one of us, even for a short time. May he forever rest in peace."

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and finally found her normal voice. "Mr. Black, thank you for saving Harry. Are you injured? Do you need anything?"

Jon shrugged. "I am fine. Maybe some water... I would be thankful, please."

She snapped her fingers and a house elf appeared.

"Milly," McGonagall commanded. "Bring a pitcher of cool water, and a pot of tea. And biscuits. Something a bit stronger for the teachers as well. This has been one first day to remember, or preferably, to forget." She watched Harry's mutilated side and shook her head in sympathy.

"Yes, Mistress. Milly will see to it," she vanished with a pop.

"If I am needed, I will be in my lab. I shall begin on the ocular restorative." Snape turned on his heel, his robes billowing impressively as he stormed out of the hospital wing.

McGonagall laid a hand on Jon's shoulder. "You were quite brave, young man. It seems that you are trading favours. First he brings you in when you were injured, now you bring him in return. You two are bound together by fate, apparently."

"Apparently. I was not even as close to being as badly injured as he is, however. He didn't even know the extent of how badly he was hit." Madame Pompfrey left the bedside to retrieve a medical surgery kit and a few bottles of potion kept in the metal cabinet. "I don't think he would have stayed awake if he saw what happened to him. Shock can incapacitate a man if he is not accustomed to seeing injuries like this..."

McGonagall nodded gravely. Both of them knew going into circulatory shock could potentially lead to death.

"Poppy is one of the best there is. He will be alright," McGonagall reinforced, her mouth in a thin, hard line. Milly reappeared with a large covered silver tray balanced in one hand and a basket of biscuits and flour based snacks in the other.

"Please feel free to have a seat in the recovery area. I need to begin work on his face," Pompfrey advised. She pulled the drapes around the bed.

After the teachers and Jon shared a quick cup of tea, the other heads of houses excused themselves and left to see to their own house. Albus Dumbledore rest a hand on Jon's shoulder, nodding solemnly.

"Thank you, young man. The hat chose well last night. I am afraid there is a school wide curfew until the Aurors come in and do their investigation. May I escort you back to your dorms?" Professor Dumbledore offered.

Jon nodded, due to the fact that with all the moving staircases he doubt he would remember how to make it back on his own anyway. "Thank you, headmaster. Your assistance is greatly appreciated."

They bid farewell to Madame Pompfrey and both of them left the infirmary. They walked in silence along the corridors. Dumbledore was first to open up conversation.

"I have the strangest feeling that you are not worried, nor showing any spike of anxiety or adrenaline usually accompanying such a dangerous situation."

"I guess," Jon replied vaguely, shrugging. They walked on a bit in silence, Dumbledore humming to himself. Jon had the feeling that the elderly wizard was burning with desire to interrogate him, yet was pretending to be patient and kind to not alienate his new student. He waited patiently for the questioning to begin, and was not disappointed a minute later.

"What do you really think happened in that classroom, Jon?"

"Sir, my suspicion is that multiple curses were cast on Mr. Lockhart. And from what I have heard previously, he was a showman, a personality with more flash than substance. At first, he definitely was in control and wanted to leave a strong impression, but it all came out wrong, and disturbing. As if he was being twisted. Maybe he was trying to fight it, in his own way."

"Your classmate, Mr. Thomas, said he was singing to music?"

"Yes sir, the elf was using a record machine."

"And when the elf was stopped, only then did he attack. Am I understanding this correctly?"

"Yeah, basically," Jon shrugged.

"Interesting," Dumbledore muttered, pulling his beard and staring into the distance.

Jon said nothing, just walked alongside him in silence. They arrived at the Fat Lady and it swung open immediately as Dumbledore approached. He and Jon stepped through into a room full of students awkwardly trying to pretend that they were chatting, reading or playing board games and cards. They immediately became quiet, and focused on the two of them. Albus Dumbledore noticed the rushed irregularities; the chessboard incorrectly setup on the board, one or two open books were being held upside down. A sixth year pretending to be interested in a first year group of students.

"Good afternoon, dear children," Albus said benevolently. The Gryffindor den all responded with a chorus of 'Good afternoon Professor Dumbledore'. Albus smiled, raising his hand in thanks. "Professor McGonagall will be with you shortly. Please remain in your common rooms until further notice."

"Where is Harry?" Hermione blurted out.

"Hospital wing," Dumbledore replied.

"Can we see him?" Alexandria added.

"Certainly, but not today. The curfew is in effect, and it is a very strict one." Dumbledore raised his finger in warning to his captive audience. "No one is to leave. Your meals will be brought to you and your head of house would keep you updated. Things will be fixed, have no fear. Have a good afternoon, keep safe and enjoy the rest of the day off from your classes. I must see to things."

He turned and ducked through the entrance.

Alexandria ran towards Jon and grabbed him up in a hug. "I am so sorry," she said, rubbing the back of his hair and squeezing her body to his. Jon returned the hug with one arm. He admitted to himself he was getting a bit attached to these hugs.

"How is Harry?" she asked, pulling away and keeping a hold on his arms. Jon shook his head sadly. Hermione, Ron and the quidditch gang all came closer to hear the news.

"Not good at all. I have avenged him. He will recover, knowing that the person who did this to him has paid the price," Jon declared. "Keep him in your thoughts everyone, he needs all of your prayers and well wishes."

Tonks was currently packing up her books at the end of her lecture at the Ministry of Magic. Her hair was left in her natural black colour, her robes were the more conservative, all black loose garb instead of her preferred fashionable styles. She exited class without any small talk with her fellow recruits and made her way to the designated Apparation zones. Within moments she was in her room, taking off her scratchy robes and putting on a loose t shirt, feeling drained. The days were monotonous and admittedly she was a bit bored.

The Auror recruit classes were frighteningly dull. She knew that the actual job consisted of periods of normalcy spiked by field calls. Investigation and clue gathering was the bulk of the work. Sitting in court and having breakthroughs in cases would be the highlights of her day. It was rare that there were a lot of calls to action even though it might, just might get hectic when there were crises.

A month ago she thought that the Auror job would prove that being a half-blood Black did not condemn her to inferiority where magic was concerned. She knew her relatives shunned her mother and father, and by extension, her. She would show them all she was worth the title of being a powerful witch; capable of living up to the Ancient and Most Noble Black heritage, regardless of her mother's removal from the Family Tree Tapestry.

She flicked her wand to open her cupboard and watched the red robes draped over the mannequin. With another flick she shut the doors with a snap. A month ago was before she met those two, before she became a Guild Hunter.

Tonks threw herself face down on her bed. She wondered how Harry was doing. And also Jon. Jon was another enigma. Through their correspondence and few visits he volunteered no information that was not specifically asked. Jon clearly was not picking sides over the 'incident'. Jon was simply Jon, clinical, calm, a silent sponge absorbing everything around him. A boy of few words. All in all, a strange lad.

The three of them were the Crow's Vambrace. She was their Clan Witch, but everyone they met immediately knew that Harry was their ghost leader and driving force. Jon was the muscle. Tonks was their all around spell-caster and spokesperson. It still amazed her that they were so good together, their unique strengths and abilities synergizing with uncanny success. The results made her bank account go from zero to Hero, their adventure had saved lives and brought renewed hope to Salles and Estagal.

Now she contemplated if she had screwed it all up. She didn't know if she could really work with those two again on the field if she couldn't trust Harry. Harry admitted that he was eighteen, amongst other, personal things.

A hardened wizard in a flickin' twelve year old body.

The magic that feat took was incomprehensible. Harry was a mage, no... a Grand Sorcerer in a class all in his own if what he said was true.

Tonks rolled off the bed and took out a photo album of herself growing up from underneath it. She thumbed through happier times, and stopped on a photo of herself and a few friends at the first Quidditch Match during her third year. She looked so innocent and cute then. She stood up in front of the mirror on the closet door. The loose muggle t-shirt did nothing to hide that she was no longer that little girl. Her experiences in France also changed her outlook on mortality and magic. Dealing with rogue elements could turn deadly, and death could strike even during mundane tasks.

Mundane tasks like barrel bathing in a farm barn.

In hindsight, learning that Harry was not exactly who he said he was seemed inevitable. That moment when he had confronted the Russian in that barn without fear was key. He had met her gaze with such ferocity; even after he surrendered his weapon, conveying that he had this deadly situation under control. In Carcassone; that awesome display of brute force to take out the skirmish with one strike.

The history books said it was impossible, but the latest Scribe de Reveur has acclaimed that the British Guild Crow's Vambrace has been tentatively accredited with the First Wizard to achieve the ability of Flight. Further debate by the International Confederation of Wizards would be required to scribe this occurrence officially in the Wizard's Worldwide Almanac of Magical Records.

Those two boys were forces unto themselves. Their magic was an integral part of them, not simply channeled through their wand. They were heroes inside... and it showed externally in their capacity for magic.

Monsieur Valmont called them 'Immortal Champions.'

Tonks was really starting to believe in their corny offhand jokes. If the entire bloody south of France could empower the legends they were carving out for themselves and she was witnessing it firsthand, why would she even fight it?

Her lads were fucking legit.

Tonks wrinkled her nose and as she flipped back to the photo during her third year. She concentrated as she looked in the mirror. Her body shrunk a few inches, her bust decreased dramatically and her skinny arms and legs widened a bit with baby fat. Her face also rounded out a bit, and her shape became more plump than svelte.

She struck a pose, her mind racing.

Tonks shook her head, this was insane. She should not even think of it. She had no business even thinking of this. She was older. He was younger. That was it.

The Ez-rest Owl perch dinged throughout the house and made her jump. She immediately reverted to her natural shape and sped down the stairs. When she saw the snow white owl on the perch outside the window her hair turned colour into a bright pink and she raced to open it.

RD

Hogwarts is under magical attack.

You must acquire a Rooster and bring Cloud. We need locations of nearby poultry farms. Secure the clan base using our funds if necessary. These are the last direct orders from RH.

I am writing on his behalf because he has been severely injured and has been potion induced into a deep coma. He is in critical condition. There is a possibility that he may be permanently blinded in the left eye.

Mr. B

Tonks sat down abruptly. Her hair reverted to black as she put her fingers to her mouth in shock. She folded the parchment and took out a fresh one. She thought of all the questions she wanted to ask, but instead wrote a short response.

It shall be done.

RD

AN: Thank you for reading. I have seen a lot of visitor traffic from all over the world on the chapters, I am so happy you are reading and enjoying! Hopefully you guys would spend a moment and hit me up with some genuine feedback and general thoughts about what you think of the story so far.

We fic authors feel content and happy when you do, be it good or bad (and a little sad when you don't lol). It helps us create a better story for you!

Shout out to Smutley, Geetac, Mwinter, Just Yuki, Shadow Mistress, Nymlover, Artanis Rose and Story Cypher for your comments. Thanks and Much respect!

Until we meet again.

-TDLN