Chapter 11. Magic Show    (September 9-10, 1997)

"I love you, Ginevra Molly Weasley." Harry whispered to the sleeping mass of red hair nestled between his arm and chest.

What an exhausting, inspiring, humbling little adventure it had been. Ginny's initiative had proven to be a true game-changer: for the first time in the fourteen months since Harry had steadfastly, but somewhat blindly, committed to confronting Voldemort, there was finally an emerging glimmer of a real plan. Details were still thin on the ground, and so much more needed first to be learned and understood, but there was the tantalizing hint of a possible way to overcome, to save lives, perhaps even to salvage some vestigial humanity within a little boy who had long ago turned dark.

If the Fugos were to believed, and Harry had received fairly absolute persuasion of that last night, it no longer made sense for him to try to do it all alone. Ginny's fate had become inextricably woven into his own and, in the Fugo's opinion, the fate of their struggle as well. Harry's instinctive response was deep remorse: at each step along the way, he had felt a twinge of anxiety in accepting her friendship, her assistance, involvement, and eventual love and partnership. At each step, he had worried that he was endangering her, but he had always somehow convinced himself that if things went wrong, he could still mercifully decouple, and still ensure that she had a chance to survive and become a beacon to the light in some sort of post-Harry world. He had continued to cling to that conviction at some level... until last night.

If there was one consolation to Harry, it was in now understanding that the threshold had truly been crossed quite some time ago, and that perhaps there were aspects to their convergence that almost seemed like destiny; like they were never really his to control. He was beginning to suspect that Ginny's fated involvement in the struggle against Voldemort might have already been predestined by her survival in the Chamber of Secrets. If not by that time, then certainly the die had irrevocably been cast by the time they had escaped together from Malfoy's summer residence last spring. Fundamental things had changed that day for both Ginny and himself. That was when Ginny's ability to shield his scar had become near total, and he was becoming increasingly convinced that this was when he had acquired the ability to telepathically sense her stronger emotions. Had Fawkes been trying to explain this to Ginny last week? Maybe Fawkes's intimate involvement, effecting their escape via phoenix fire, had led him to understand their growing interdependencies? Perhaps in evacuating them via magical fire, he himself had inadvertently caused the change; affected or amplified those interdependencies? Who knows? There wasn't exactly a huge body of literature on the effects of phoenix fire on the human magical essence. He found himself wondering what the Fugos might be able to explain, if he ever found another opportunity to speak with them again, about the role Fawkes may have played in all of this.

So, here was this beautiful woman sharing his bed, his life. Perhaps sharing his fate... sometimes even sharing his mind. Should he feel remorse for her loss of the simpler life of a student, of should he feel immense gratitude for her unwillingness to let him face fate alone? Perhaps he would forever feel a bit of both, but at least one thing was finally becoming clear: it was quite unlikely that feeling guilt at Ginny's inextricable involvement would help him do what he needed to do. Conversely, the experience with Fugos had convinced him that acting alone was not the recipe for the best, strongest, most benign resolution to the Tom Riddle threat. And if he could not act alone, then he was certain that there was nobody else in the world whose help he could ever trust the way he knew he could rely on Ginny.

"Ginny, I love you more that you can ever know." he breathed. "I need your strength and your wisdom. I need you more than anybody has ever had a right to ask."

"Mmmmm." she answered.

A dim light had crept into their room at some point, but it was getting no brighter since Dobby had affixed a thick woolen blanket to their window and, with only modest protests, had canceled the alarm charm that Harry had cast on his model Hungarian Horntail. On those rare mornings when neither Harry nor Ginny had awoken past the early glimmerings of dawn, the dragon would long since have started firing blasts of imaginary fire at their faces by now. But thanks to the elf's ministrations, the horntail emitted only sleepy little puffs of smoke from a head shrouded beneath a scaly wing.

Thank Merlin there were no classes or meetings on his Tuesday morning schedule, because Harry's brain felt like a dented ingot of lead. Salvatore's aged sherry may have had something to do with it, the exceptionally late bedtime would not have helped, but the primary culprit was almost certainly the rigorous cerebral exercise that Tremelda had paced him through. Like it or not, that is only just the beginning.

Speaking of beginnings... this whole Tuesday could not be spent in bed. Harry gently edged his way to the side, kissed Ginny's hand as he removed it from his chest. In the low light, it looked sweet and delicate. Could this be a hand tasked with helping to save the world? Harry was not going to bet against it. Either way, he kissed it again and laid it gently on the covers.

He made his way unsteadily to the window, and tugged on the blanket, but it held firm. "Finite incantatem." he murmured, and the blanket fell away from the wall to reveal a window through which now shone a hazy, mid-morning sun. Ginny stirred at the change in light but didn't open her eyes.

Harry opened the door to the den. Dobby had already cleared off the table that had been stacked last night with sandwiches and fruit for their very late supper. On the center of the table the elf had left a note telling them not to go breakfast in the Great Hall; saying that it was important for Harry Potter and Witch Wheezey to sleep, and that Dobby would deliver a meal to them when they were ready. Surprisingly, Harry realized that he was already hungry, despite having eaten so late at night. Ferocious hunger was often a symptom of magical exhaustion.

Harry very nearly succumbed to the temptation of immediate eggs and bacon, but decided that training would still come first, if only because it helped him to think. It was too late for his early morning run (even after a year's commitment to the regimen, he still didn't like to attract attention by publicly flaunting his workouts among a community that was still quite resistant to exercise), and he figured that it would be best to give his magic a rest, but that left a welcome prospect of some good strength and agility exercises in the Room of Requirement.

After feeding Emerald and quickly changing into with workout garb, he briefly debated waking Ginny, but decided to instead tag a little note on at the end of Dobby's and let her rest. He made his way quietly through the door and closed it behind himself with a tiny click.

Ginny's eyes snapped open. She registered an emptiness... in the bed, in their quarters... in her heart. "I love you too, Harry." she murmured, a little forlornly. Fortunately, her mood was quickly bolstered by Emerald bouncing onto the bed to greet her. Ginny lay there for a while, absentmindedly stroking the appreciative cat, while reflecting back at some of the more extraordinary happenings from the night before.

It was frankly a bit of a blur. The final discussions by the fire had been disorienting for her because she had been purposefully excluded from some of the most intense revelations of the night: some scary things that Harry and Tremelda had pursued. A brief wave of resentment swept through her: Harry was hers to protect and Salvatore had deliberately employed the most artful and imaginative distraction techniques to lure her away so that the love of her life could be isolated and subjected to harsh interrogation. But the wave subsided again just as quickly as it had swelled. No, it had not been a trick; Salvatore had warned her and explained the premise. She herself had agreed: there were critical aspects of Harry's condition that could not be fully understood as long as she was protecting him. Perhaps her vague sense of betrayal was a feeling that they had gone off and learned fundamental things about Harry's condition, but had not made the opportunity to explain things properly to her yet. Instead, she had been instructed to refortify her weakened lover, to hold his trembling body by the fire, and to listen to a final disorienting discussion about whether or not Harry needed... to die.

She still didn't understand truly what it was that had been found in Harry, and under what basis that implied that he might or might not need to be sacrificed. But she did understand that everyone had emerged with guarded optimism, and that she herself was supposed to be a key part of the solution. And she knew that Harry would certainly explain it all to her... because he needed her.

It was a shock for her to understand that Harry actually needed her now every bit as much as she needed him. Perhaps more, if that could ever be even remotely imaginable. This was now their shared quest. Together they would sort through the mysteries, they would plan, labor... and together they would prevail.

Ginny wondered why she felt so exhausted when it had been Harry who had undergone the ordeal. Then it occurred to her that she had been called upon to flood magical power back into him, to counteract his depletion. Perhaps without realizing it, she might have continued to nurse him back to health overnight. Oh well — magical exhaustion could be like physical exertion: if you did the right things to recover properly, you would end up stronger than you'd been beforehand. And in her experience, the two best things for recovering for magical exhaustion were invigorating physical exercise and lots of good food. On that thought, she gently disengaged herself from a now-sleeping cat, pulled herself out of bed, stumbled over to find Harry's note, and then swung into action.

"Where have you two been?" Neville asked, as Harry and Ginny sat down for lunch at the inter-house table.

With a slight wince, Harry realized that although neither of them had skipped any actual obligations, their very presence often attracted inadvertent attention, and missing two straight meals would surely be noticed. "We had to investigate a lead for our research." Harry offered evasively. "Why? Have people been asking about us?"

"Research? Oh, that's a likely story." Luna said cheerfully. "We told the people who asked that you were off celebrating the 475th anniversary of the first global circumnavigation."

"We told? What do you mean we?" Neville frowned, in slight consternation.

"Which people?" Harry asked.

"No, not witch people." Luna explained. "The sixteenth century Spanish navy was very misogynistic. Even having muggle females on board was believed to bring misfortune."

"Oh... ummm... sorry Luna, I meant which people asked about us?" Harry clarified.

"Yes." Luna confirmed, with a pleasant smile.

A look of weary bewilderment slowly crept down Harry's face.

"And some wizard people too, come to think of it." Luna added, as she served herself some fish and chips. "Hmmm... peculiar shape for abaia cutlet, don't you think?" she mused as she waved a fish stick in Neville's face.

"Ummm, I thought it was haddock." Neville said distractedly as he patted Hannah on the back. His girlfriend's head had just dropped onto the table, where it lay buried in her arms, twitching. Several people at the end of the Hufflepuff table nearest them were watching with concern; somebody asked what the word 'palsy' meant. Another person watched worriedly as Ginny turned abruptly away from Luna and began chewing part of her hand. Someone muttered something about 'contagious', and denizens at that end of the Hufflepuff table began to abandon their lunches, finding excuses to leave early.

"Haddock?" Luna tittered softly. "Oh, you're always so silly, Neville."

A loud snort emerged from Hannah's buried head, followed by a whimper. Ginny sputtered spasmodically, and small tears formed at the corners of her eyes. Luna smiled absently.

Harry breathed deeply and started anew. "So,... Neville,... was somebody asking about our absence?"

Neville thought for a moment. "Yes, several of your students: I think their names are Jennifer, Sarah and Jack. And after you missed supper last night, Hermione has started watching the table like a hawk." His eyes crept nervously toward the Gryffindor table, then quickly darted away again.

"Don't forget the poor little Slytherin boy." Luna added.

"Poor little... ??" Neville stumbled.

"Blond hair, prefect, always so miserable." Luna clarified.

"Draco?" Harry asked incredulously. "What would Draco Malfoy want with us... and you say he's... miserable?"

"Draco slithered over this morning to whine and snarl a bit." Neville recalled. "He made some unpleasant insinuations about your absence, but it wasn't clear if he really wanted anything."

"He's so miserable because nobody likes him and his daddy is scared of death eaters." Luna explained. "Oh, and Gringotts froze all of the family's assets."

Harry and Ginny both wheeled to face her.

"Mwah bib..." Ginny paused and removed the hand from her mouth. "Where did you learn all this, Luna?"

Luna frowned as she swished her fork at something around Neville's ear. "Classic Ravenclaw powers of observation." she said vaguely.

"Huhh." Harry and Ginny exclaimed as their querying gazes swiveled around to each other.

Harry opened his office door wide and left it that way. The light from his office window poured across the room and into the relative dim hallway. It was a clear signal: Professor Potter was present, accounted for, and available to the inquiring world. He had just lined up several books on his desk to begin his work, when the first of some unknown number of inevitable visitors and interruptions for the afternoon appeared.

This one was avian: a large tawny owl was perched on his window sill, tapping on the pane with its stout beak. Harry slid aside an adjacent pane to admit the bird and it hopped onto the tall seat back, with one leg extended. The note it bore was brief:

Dear Mr. Potter,

I am writing pursuant to your request for a meeting to be held at Gringotts for the specification and creation of a charitable trust under the joint signatory authority of yourself and Miss Ginevra Weasley.

As you are aware, we had originally agreed upon a meeting to commence at 10:00 A.M. on Thursday, Sept. 11. However, due to unforeseen circumstances arising on our end, I must humbly request a rescheduling of this meeting. I would like to offer you three possible options for rescheduling.

Options:

1. 10:00 A.M., Saturday, Sept. 13
2. 1:30 P.M., Monday, Sept. 15
3. 10:00 A.M., Tuesday, Sept. 16

Please request the scheduling option that would be most convenient for you, or request alternate preferences for times and dates after Sept. 16. Once you have made your selection or request, please return this form with the delivery owl provided.

Thank you most kindly for your understanding! I most solemnly promise you that every effort will be made to avoid any further inconveniences to your esteemed clientship.

Sincerely,

Griphook
Gringotts Junior Financial Fellow dccclvii

It was a polite and solicitous letter, but it struck Harry as odd, because he had heard from multiple people that Gringott's was cautious, deliberate and meticulously detail-oriented; messing up a set schedule did not seem to mesh with their normal business conduct. It occurred to him to worry a bit that there was something wrong and hoped that it would not complicate their plans to set up the trust; hopefully ministry interference wasn't already manifesting itself in some annoying way. But rather than idly speculate, he decided to reserve the Monday time slot, then he would send an owl to Remus, who had agreed to accompany them to the meeting in an advisorial capacity (the werewolf was very astute in legal and financial matters). Hopefully Remus would be able to accommodate the scheduling change. Finally Harry also resolved to owl Bill to see if he knew of any signs that Gringotts was feeling any unseemly pressure from the Ministry. He sighed, knowing that this would blow at least an hour of his busy day. Oh well.

He had barely put quill to parchment when he heard footsteps coming down the corridor in his direction and sensed a familiar, expected, and rather unpleasant magical signature. But... was Luna right? To Harry's increasingly sensitive perception, it almost seemed like a somewhat strained, frazzled power essence was emanating from Draco Malfoy.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the distinguished and venerated Professor Potter..." sneered the voice that Harry knew all too well. Draco was certainly capable of sustaining the same greasy, arrogant intonations for which he was famous. Harry looked up into the boy's face, recalling what Ginny had mentioned about Draco appearing almost ill at the Start of Term Banquet. What Harry's eyes saw, superficially, was a healthy, immaculately kempt visage... but... how strange... as his sight engaged for more then the normal cursory glance he suddenly found himself seeing right through... glamor charms!

Draco flinched. "What are you looking... what do you want Potter?!"

Harry shook himself and blinked. Must not stare Harry!

"Sorry Draco, my contact lenses clouded up for a second." Harry lied. He smiled the most disarmingly pleasant face he could come up with — the product of some time he'd spend in front of a mirror crafting his various disguises. "So how can I help the esteemed Mr. Malfoy today?"

Draco's smooth voice from a minute ago was in tatters. Harry had not intended to throw his former rival into a state of disarray, but clearly this conversation had already fallen off the intended track and Draco was not coping particularly well. "I came here to get... I mean, I've been giving things some thought and..."

Harry continued to smile pleasantly.

"Here!" Draco thrust a parchment onto his desk. "I might start taking Defense Against Dart Arks... Dars Artk... DADA! I might take DADA after all and I need this bloody form signed."

"Sure." Harry said. "You know that Professor Snape has the authority as head of house to approve this as long as you have the prerequisites. He could have saved you a trip."

"Yeah, but I wanted to... I mean... okay... right. I'll remember that for next time."

Harry ran his hands carefully up and down the parchment, trying to detect any untoward charms or deceit that a skilled trickster might have been able to engineer. He didn't have the exceptional skills of a Bill Weasley to rely upon, but to the best of his own scrutiny it seemed like a plain scroll of parchment, bearing the standard course adjustment form. Draco had not tried to lend him a quill or ink. However modestly surprising it might be to think that Draco might change his mind and actually register for a course instructed by Harry Potter, there did not appear to be anything out of the ordinary. Harry reread the letter to check for any unusual phrasing, but everything still checked out... so he reached for his quill, signed on the line marked "Instructor" and then, with his bare hand, added an invisible magical signature immediately below that... just in case.

"Here you go. Welcome to the class!" Harry said as he looked up and rolled the the parchment.

Draco jumped, whirling and away from where leaning over the sofa by the hearth. Harry swore he glimpsed a white blur as Draco thrust his right hand into his robes.

With a quizzical smile on his face, Harry extended the signed parchment out toward Draco.

Draco snatched the parchment out of Harry's hand in a manner that was either excessively brusk or very edgy. He gestured over toward the love seat. "Scruffy furniture, Potter." he said hurriedly. "Thought someone of your stature could do better."

Harry shrugged. "Standard Hogwarts issue. Thanks for the suggestion — maybe the faculty should propose an upgrade at some point, but I can certainly make do with old furnishings until the after the war is all sorted out. I can think of dozens of better ways to spend school money right now. Anyway, see you in class tomorrow morning?"

Draco sneered... or grimaced (it was difficult to tell them apart) and hurried out the door. When Harry heard the footsteps fading down the stairwell, he got up from his desk and went over to examine the sofa that had attracted Malfoy's attention. He went over it twice with his hand, but once again didn't detect anything suspicious. He frowned... then returned to his desk.

He was just starting letter two out of three when a second set of footsteps grew louder in their approach to his door, and he looked up to see... no surprise... Sarah, Jennifer, Quinn and Jack.

"Hi!" Harry said with a smile. "I heard you were looking for me — I guess now I won't have to track you down myself. What can I do for you?"

There was an awkward fraction of a second during which it was unclear which of the four of them would speak. Without Ryan, Mary-Jo or Nick around, the group didn't have a clear natural leader, but on the spur of the moment Jack rose to the occasion. "Professor Potter, we happened to notice your recent absence. Your posted schedule didn't show anything about where you were."

Harry didn't particularly like where this conversation was starting out, and had trepidations about where it might be headed, but he respected these kids and met their gazes earnestly. "Sorry mates! I was out of the castle yesterday for some important research, which ultimately proved quite successful. I had originally hoped to be back by supper time, but the way things went I didn't get back until very late... or, in fact fairly early today. But I'm back now — can I help you with anything?"

It was Sarah who stepped forward this time, frowning. "Professor Potter, did you have any way to alert anybody back here if anything had gone wrong while you were out of the castle?"

Harry's eyebrows shot up. Ouch! Okay, that's one way to pull the plaster off! He gazed from one set of earnest eyes to the next, recognizing quickly that although his instinct had been primed over the past year to take offense in a question like this, there was nothing to be gained by antagonizing this bunch. Besides, the situation was fraught with comedic irony. Funny enough to make him laugh. So he did. Quite heartily.

Eight eyes watched his mirth quizzically, wondering whether to feel hurt, angry, or relieved.

Harry's laugh subsided to a smile. "Okay, four against one is completely unfair. At the very least, please call me Harry instead of 'Professor Potter', and then please make yourselves comfortable..." he gestured at the sofa and a pair of chairs, "so you're not hovering over me so intimidatingly."

The several seconds that it took them to find seats gave him an opportunity to consider how he wanted to handle this. Just when he felt he had convinced the various authority figures in his life that they were better off giving him latitude, now he had students demanding accountability. Up until this very moment he felt implicitly accountable to Ginny, and under the right circumstances he would defer to Minerva and Remus... even Dumbledore, if the headmaster continued to be helpful. But this little scenario of being ambushed by students was not something he had prepared for. So he let his instincts take over. Let's hear them out.

When he spoke, he honed his voice to an even keel, trying neither to convey arrogance nor admit shame. "In regards to your question, no, I didn't have any way to alert someone here if things had gone wrong. I did have very capable backup with me while I was gone though."

Jennifer shook her head. "Not enough." she said.

Sarah nodded in response to her fellow student. "Harry, we know that you are a bit of a... maverick. We know that you have locked horns with authority. And we love you for it because everybody who takes one of your classes now knows the difference between ineffectual and effectual leadership." She leaned forward, drilling into him with her intense gaze. "But don't let your aversion to ineffectual leadership get in the way of acting responsibly."

"Listen, Harry." Quinn broke in, "You don't owe us anything. You don't need us to tell us what you have to do, but you have to understand that you do owe it to the world to not only protect the world, but also protect yourself."

"Strategy, Harry!" Sarah said, pounding her fist into her hand. "You had one single point of backup, right? How much harder is it to plan a surprise attack to take out two people as opposed to one? It might make it tougher for them, but not tough enough!"

With eyes blazing, Jennifer had joined the shark feeding frenzy. "Whatever important thing you did last night could have ended up with you lying out somewhere in the middle of nowhere, bleeding to death while your backup was incapacitated or worse, right? You need at least one more line of defense — someone at a neutral location, out of the line of fire, whom you can signal for help. Like Sarah said — strategy Harry!"

Harry sat back and let their waves of tension roll over him. His eyes were wide with rapt attention, but it was difficult to entirely cull the bemusement from his expression. Especially as Jennifer spoke: she was a small girl who could easily have passed for someone several years younger than her biological age of sixteen. When the red flush started to sweep over her otherwise pale complexion, though, Harry knew all too well not to step lightly around this passionate young witch.

Quinn spoke again in his earnest but conciliatory manner. "We debated it as a group at the end of one of our training sessions. The consensus was that if you look at the relative track records of successful auror missions versus failures, two pairs of feet on the ground is better than one, but the best scenario is when you have two field operatives who are able to reach a third party contact at a moment's notice. This is balance between optimizing safety and operational effectiveness on one hand versus too many points of contact clogging everything down on the other. Trust me, Harry, we don't want to interfere. We don't even need to know what you're doing, but we'll all be a lot happier if you at least have some simple way to signal for help in case something goes wrong. You put us on that tether this past summer, and thank you very sincerely for doing that because you saved lives, okay? But you're way too important to all of us. You have to put a little tether on yourself too."

Harry sat there, eyes scanning the four faces: Sarah and Jennifer (tense; expectant), Quinn (intense, but solicitous) and Jack (standing back; engaged but expressionless). He smiled. "I don't stand a chance in hell tomorrow morning, do I?"

"Huh??" Sarah exclaimed.

"Teamwork? Strategy?" Harry said. "Something tells me that some of you spent as much time this summer studying teamwork and strategy as you did in practical exercises. I'm thinking our little rumble scheduled for tomorrow morning in AHA might be a bit of an eye-opener?"

Jack grinned. "No comment!"

"Don't change the subject, Harry!" Jennifer was glaring daggers at him.

"Don't worry, Jennifer, you made your point." Harry assured her with a warm smile that brought her red coloration down several shades. "I can't poke any holes in your logic, and to be honest when things were at their most frenzied this summer I did have a couple of people... I think you may meet them tomorrow morning, actually... who in some ways did just about what you're proposing. But the fact of the matter is that I'm on the go a fair bit, and it's difficult to find a full-time Harry-sitter."

Jack chuckled. "We can post a notice on the castle bulletin boards. Wanted: full time Harry-Sitter. Must be accustomed to round the clock peril. Death eaters need not apply."

Sarah giggled. "Potter Junior would be sure to apply."

"Potter Junior?" Harry asked with a little trepidation.

"Ryan, of course!" Sarah explained. "Come on, don't tell me you haven't noticed how he idolizes you."

"Errr... I'm not sure idolize is the right word." Harry mused.

"What, you don't think Oedipus idolized his dad?" Quinn joked.

"Don't be ridiculous, Quinn!" Sarah chided. "Ryan worships the ground Harry walks on; he just has to make it look like he's gunning for Harry, because Ryan's a devout Slythindor, and Harry's obvious a Gryfferin."

"Slythindor? Gryfferin?" Harry inquired. "What are you the rest of you, a bunch of Ravenpuffs?"

"No way." Sarah corrected. "I'm obviously a Slytherclaw, and Jennifer can be so agonizingly Gryffelpuff."

"They told me I was a thick-headed Huffledor." Jack inserted. "And I've unilaterally decided that, like all so-called men of Ravenclaw, Quinn is a pure jessie."

"See if I ever correct your potions essays again, Trowers." Quinn grumbled.

"Oh Merlin!" Harry moaned. "The founders must be rolling in their graves — what have we wrought upon ourselves?"

"Listen Harry, you're still evading the issue. We're not going to leave your office until you accede to our demands that you act in a strategically responsible manner." Jennifer interjected. She did not sound quite so intimidating as earlier, however. Clearly the silly conversation had taken some of the edge off her stridency.

"Okay ladies and gentlemen..." Harry leaned back in his chair and folded his hands. "That was where I was going with my earlier thread of conversation before we got a little... uh, sidetracked. When I was going out on dangerous excursions last summer, I really did have a couple of people watching out for me. I can't rely on them for every little jaunt I go on, but since you're so keen on the idea... if you thought it might be somehow worth your while to experiment with this operations control concept that you've come up with, then I might be convinced to work with you to put in into practice..."

The four students waited with bated breath.

"... if you either win or draw tomorrow morning."

The four students continued to stare. Silence hung for a long moment.

Finally Jack grinned again. "You're on! I can't wait to see Ryan's face when he hears the stakes." The other students laughed in agreement.

Harry smiled too as the group got ready to make their departure. Something occurred to him though. "Hey, that's a few times you've mentioned Ryan. What didn't the other three come along with you to gang up on me?"

"Well, Mary-Jo and Nick have a bunch of sessions scheduled for remedial OWL prep..." Jennifer began.

"I think that's a euphemism for snogging." Sarah snickered.

"And Ryan suggested that this particular discussion required the subtle art of diplomacy..." Jack concluded. "Which he admits is not his strong point."

Ginny did not want to go down those dank steps into the dungeons. She could think of twenty things that she would rather do with her afternoon — and that wasn't even counting all the things that she would be roping Harry into if he wasn't so busy. But she was the courageous, intrepid researcher... and she really did want to get to the bottom of this drinkable portkey business that death eaters were using to such advantage. And the one person in the castle who was most likely to have an idea how they were doing it was the person least likely to be willing to help a Weasley. And the sign on his office door said "Professor Severus Snape". She took a deep breath and knocked.

"Who is it?" came the invidious voice.

"Ginny Weasley, sir. I've come to ask for some assistance."

The entrance burst open like a cannon blast, revealing the potions master, looming menacingly in the spot where an instant before had been a solid oak door. "What?!" he boomed.

"Eep?" Ginny struggled to find her voice. "I'm sorry sir, did I catch you at a bad time?"

He glared at her, but shrank a few inches to become merely intimidating. "Any time is a bad time to be trifled by your nonsense, Miss Weasley..." his breath rattled disapprovingly, "but I presume there will be no dissuading you. You may come in but do not touch anything, and do not bother to sit down because I can assure you that you will not be staying long."

Ginny bit down firmly on her tongue. The initial shock having worn off, her redheaded temper and obstinacy were beginning to stir. Nonetheless, she did manage to say, "Thank you, sir." in a hypocritically neutral tone.

Snape strode to the far side of his desk. He also did not sit; rather he whirled to face her. "So, what is it?!" he seethed.

"Sir, I have been given permission to study an important and vexing problem that has arisen in recent death eater attacks." Ginny began. The gravity of her tone and the weighty subject matter seemed to throw the potions master off guard a bit and his sneering expression subsided further to mere abrasiveness.

"The problem is..." she continued, "that death eaters have developed or acquired a mechanism to effect transportation that behaves much like portkey transit, except that the technique functions in the presence of anti-portkey wards and the use of summoning charms on active or immobilized death eaters do not retrieve any portkeys."

Snape regarded her for a moment through narrow slits. "Portkeys are not my specialization." he said. "Go see Flitwick." He turned his back and began reaching for an unrelated book on one of his shelves.

"Professor Snape, we have strong reason to believe that this mysterious portkey behavior is governed by drinking something." Ginny interjected quickly. "A liquid portkey perhaps? Almost certainly a potion."

His hand paused in mid air, forgetting the book it sought.

"Sir, do you know of some advanced potion that could turn an entire human being into a portkey? One that would not be recognized by anti-portkey wards?"

Snape remained frozen, statuesque. Finally he lowered his hand and turned to face Ginny. "No." he said simply, with expressionless face.

Ginny peered at him quizzically, wondering what was meant by the sudden change in his demeanor. Both stood motionless for several moments. Finally Ginny spoke. "Okay, thank you for your time sir. I guess I will have to contact some person named Horace Slughorn." She turned and made her way toward the door.

"Wait." Snape said tonelessly.

Ginny stopped and turned. "Yes?"

The potions master stood, eyes boring into Ginny in a calculating manner. Instinctively she marshaled her occlumency shields, but no intrusion was forthcoming.

"I think I may have an idea..." he mused.

Ginny cocked her head curiously.

"It will not be easy... it may take time..." he said contemplatively.

"Sir, I'm more than prepared to invest my time heavily on this project; hopefully to the point where it wouldn't place too many demands on your schedule. If you had an idea how they might be doing this, and could point me in the right direction, that would be wonderful."

Snape stood frowning thoughtfully.

Ginny paused to await the potions master's response, but then remembered an important caveat that had escaped her in her earlier flustered state. "Sir, if I might add something?"

He raised his gaze and shifted it vaguely toward her left ear but said nothing.

She persisted. "I forgot to mention that the goal of the exercise is not to create such a capability for ourselves. That, of course, would be illegal. Rather, the goal is to understand what they're doing to a level adequate for figuring out how to disrupt it."

He nodded, then wandered over toward a stack of miscellaneous parchments and papers in the far corner of his office. He sorted through the stack, picking up the occasional document, briefly examining it then dropping it into a second pile. Ginny waited patiently.

Finally Snape picked up small stack of leaflets, browsed through them, and selected a single sheet. He read it carefully, then pulled out his wand and neatly sliced out a single photograph which he handed to her. It was a picture of a green plant.

"Phyllanthus niruri." he said. "It should be in bloom this week on the hillsides north of the lake. Go out there tomorrow right after lunch and harvest it some while the blossoms are at their peak. I'll meet you out there."

Ginny frowned as the studied the picture. It looked frustratingly similar to various different weeds that she could recall having pulled from her mother's garden. She carefully inserted it into her potions reference. Still caught somewhat by surprise at the sudden turnabout, she was more effusive in her thanks than her pride would normally have tolerated. "Thank you sir!" she said, "I appreciate your assistance, and if you could spare the time to help identify the plant tomorrow, I would be very grateful."

He said nothing, but pointed toward the open door. She nodded and quickly removed herself from his presence. When she was half way up the first flight of stairs up from the dungeons, she heard the loud boom as an office door slammed.

Recovering her equilibrium, she rolled her eyes. "Now that was surreal." she muttered to the empty stairwell.

"You really should come down to breakfast." Ginny said as she emerged from the shower after their agility workout.

Harry was stretching in a languid, contemplative manner. He too had showered, but he had changed straight from one set of workout garb (full of perspiration from the morning's exercise, plus a bit if mud from their early run) into another clean set. "I think I'm going to pass until after the AHA session. Could you do me a favor and grab me an apple when you're down there? I'll eat it on my way down to class." Harry responded.

Ginny raised an eyebrow, but restrained herself from any Molly Weasley platitudes about food, and about a great breakfast making great magic. She knew that Harry would likely soon be put through an intense workout that might not be very compatible with a full stomach. She also sensed, though she would never say it to his face, that her boyfriend actually had a little case of nerves.

Harry actually was vibrating a bit. Fortunately it was a good type of excitement: he was intensely curious to see what the students had dreamed up in their quest to subdue him in a seven-on-one battle.

Ginny gave him another once-over and smiled. "I didn't say you needed to eat anything, but I have officially decided, with full girlfriend's prerogative, that I shall request your presence as an escort downstairs. This will give me an opportunity to permit you to get your own apple." She winked.

Harry grinned, straightened up and offered his arm.

"Besides," Ginny added, "this will give your kids a chance to set up without you hovering over them."

Your kids... The term seemed natural and apt, despite the fact that four of them were older than Ginny, and the eldest of the seven, Sarah, was barely two months younger than Harry. But yes, these were Harry's kids and after this morning, a morning in which Harry was certain they would all show people just how grown up they were, they would still be his kids.

Table five attendance was definitely more sparse than usual that morning. Susan, Hannah and Neville were there, surrounded by a smattering of younger students, but none of the super seven were around, which automatically reduced the decibel level substantially. Ginny gave everyone a friendly wave, then steered Harry toward a quiet end of the table occupied only by Daphne, who was reading the Daily Prophet.

Daphne's eyes lit up as they took seats next to her. "G'morning!" she said brightly.

"Morning!" Harry said, smiling, but clearly a little bit distracted.

Daphne looked at him appraisingly. "No, it can't be... Harry, you're nervous?!"

Harry and Ginny both laughed at her candor. "Actually, I'd prefer if we said that I'm excited," Harry responded, "but, yeah, I think we're in for an interesting session!"

"Hey!" Ginny interjected, pointing to the back of Daphne's Prophet. "Gringotts Taking Unilateral Action on Supposed Dark Assets," she read aloud, "Ministry in Uproar."

"Oh yes," Daphne said thoughtfully, "Rumors started in the Slytherin common room last weekend that Lucius Malfoy's vault got locked up tight late this summer under suspicion that it contains dark objects. Another several vaults have been frozen."

"How strange," Harry pondered thoughtfully, "the goblins have always been so careful about maintaining neutrality."

"Well, I don't like to repeat speculation," Daphne said, "but Dad is under the impression that two of the Gringotts associates suffered serious curse damage in July, and an internal investigation traced the curse to an old artifact stored in Malfoy's vault. Turns out that the artifact was goblin-made, while the subsequent curses were added by a Malfoy ancestor. Professor Binns would know more about goblin policies regarding use of their handiwork, but it's my understanding that assigning a curse to one of their objects is... well, kind of sacrilegious I guess."

"That's pretty plausible and detailed for speculation — thank you Daphne!" Harry said. He noticed her quizzical expression and hastened to add, "It may answer some nagging questions of mine. We had an important appointment at Gringotts coming up and they wrote yesterday to reschedule. That had struck me as rather strange behavior for them, but perhaps a bit more understandable in light of them have to do all this sensitive... housecleaning. Oh, and it might shed a bit more light on the erratic recent behavior by our own resident Malfoy."

Daphne frowned thoughtfully as if this reminded her of something, but she didn't elaborate. Instead she nodded and sipped her tea quietly while Ginny finished her breakfast and Harry subsided into his own contemplations.

At twenty before nine, Harry and Ginny excused themselves to make their way up to the Room of Requirement and the morning's big event. The seventh floor corridor was already bustling. Since Harry had left the room unwarded after the earlier workout, the super seven had already let themselves in and had placed a colloportus on the door while they went about their preparations. In addition to this, already over a dozen other people had arrived earlier and were milling about the corridor. Many of them were adult members of the AHA who were taking time off work to attend. Fred and George Weasley waved them over eagerly to their little group that included Lee, Katie, and Angelina and Theo Johnson. Ginny went straight over to them with a big smile on her face; Harry signaled to them that he would be a minute as he had just felt a tug on his sleeve.

"Good morning Harry!" said Professor Flitwick, looking up at him.

"Good morning sir!" Harry smiled. "Have you come for the show?"

"That I have! That I have! I always heard such uproarious stories last year from Minerva but was unable to make your sessions because of my schedule. No such barriers with this early time slot."

"Wonderful, I'm glad you could make it, sir!"

"Harry, I won't keep you from all of your friends..." Professor Flitwick looked up to greet Remus and Tonks who had just arrived, "but I did want to pass along Minerva's regrets, but she has a class of second years to mind." The little professor adjusted his eyeglasses. "So I offered to pay special attention to the happenings and share the memory with her later via pensieve."

"That's very thoughtful of you, professor!" Harry said with a smile. He turned and grasped Lupin's hand firmly. "Great to see you, Remus!"

Lupin grinned but then averted his glance a little nervously as he watched Tonks sneaking up on Ginny — always a slightly dangerous proposition. Ginny gave a little shriek but recovered quickly and the two women shared an enthusiastic hug.

"Hey," Harry said, turning back to Lupin, "are we on for Monday?"

"Certainly, Harry," Lupin responded, "and, are we on again for Tuesday?"

"Tuesday... " Harry pondered, "Oh right!" Harry drew a little circle in the air to symbolize a full moon. "Sure, that shouldn't be a problem. Sorry I missed you in August!"

"I think you were a little busy." Lupin responded, with a grin. "Congratulations on your NEWTs and faculty appointment. You and Ginny never cease to amaze!"

Ginny, who was being dragged over by Tonks, lit up when she saw Remus. She gave him a big hug and began engaging him in conversation. Harry smiled and began to make his way over to talk to the twins, but had only gotten a few feet when Lupin signaled him.

"Harry, let's do Tuesday night at Grimmauld Place!" Lupin suggested. "Now that you can leave school at will, there's no need to go back to... to the old spot."

Harry nodded enthusiastically, "It will be after eight before we make it, but we'll be there."

Harry briefly acknowledged a cheery greeting from Cho Chang, then moved once again to join the Fred, George and their group. Fred threw an arm over Harry's shoulders and turned him to face their circle "So here we present to you... " Fred began dramatically, "Harry the harried!"

"Popular Potter!" added George.

Harry chuckled. "Great to see you all — thanks for taking time off work!"

"Tut tut. It's nothing," Fred responded, "We've worked hard enough the past couple weeks to spare a morning a week."

"Especially if we can use it to drum up more business." grinned George. "Hey, speaking of business, is Harried Popular still coming to the Burrow this weekend?"

"Yes, definitely." Harry was still chuckling over the latest nickname. Fortunately none of them seemed to last very long; the twins were too creative to overwork any of their jests.

"Good," Fred stated. "We will arrange a few demos out in Dad's shed. Some products are pretty close to the testing phase."

"Great! I can't wait to... " Harry's sentence trailed off. The Room of Requirement was open. Ryan stood tall in the doorway, and nodded to Harry. "Well everyone... let's go in!" Harry announced.

The Room of Requirement had never looked quite like this before. For starters, the ceiling was very high, to enable seating that afforded good views over four foot high boulders and even over to the far side of a pair of twelve foot high hillocks. As people filtered in, Harry gathered his seven adversaries together to briefly confirm the rules of engagement with Flitwick, who volunteered to referee the competition. Ginny, for her part chose the hill nearest the stands and climbed to the top, from which she surveyed the scene. At precisely nine o'clock she nonverbally cast the sonorus spell and said, loudly enough to carry out of the room and down hallway, "Attention everybody! In sixty seconds the door will be locked and people should be in their seats!"

At that notice, the seven students spread out equidistantly along the sidelines, Flitwick scurried up the hill to exchange a word with Ginny, and Harry began to walk deliberately around the set.

At 9:01, Ginny cast a briefly glance toward the door to check for stragglers and, seeing none, called out, "Colloportus!" As the door closed, she then turned to the rather sizable audience, which included the BHA, IHA and AHA classes, some additional members of Harry's NEWT classes which weren't in the HA, and the entirety of Professor Caldwell's third year DADA class who normally met at this time. She surveyed the group and then, with her magically amplified voice, began, "Welcome everyone! Before we begin, I would like to..."

"Woooo woooo!! Weasley's teaching us! I knew there was a reason to sign up for this class!"

Zabini recoiled from the sharp elbow he received from Daphne, but still managed to sustain a wide, roguish grin.

Ginny could not quite prevent either the blush or smirk that stole across her face. "Ummm... I'm sorry to disappoint anybody, but I am standing up here in a very temporary capacity to fill in for your normal instructor, a certain Professor Potter, who is currently over there..." she pointed toward the south end of the room, "doing reconnaissance."

Harry gave a cursory wave of his hand to acknowledge some cheers from the crowd, but otherwise continued his pensive stroll around the room.

"What I wanted to say," Ginny continued, "was that this exercise has been planned by the seven members of the AHA class whom you see spread out around the periphery." They too acknowledged cheers from the crowd. "While to all appearances this may seem to you to be a competition, it is foremost a learning exercise, and secondarily a research activity. If you watch Harry, then you should view his techniques and strategies in the context of someone who is seeking to defend himself in a situation where he is on the run and outnumbered. If your sympathies lie with the seven students, then you could regard them as a posse in pursuit of a fugitive. In either case, many of us would hope to never be thrust into either role, but we live in uncertain times and it never hurts to have in the back of our minds some idea of possible strategies in the event that we find ourselves in dire circumstances."

She paused for a moment to let everyone digest the context, then continued. "For safety's sake, the rules of engagement are simple: no contestants will cast any spell that incurs a substantial risk of putting anybody in the hospital wing. By 'anybody', I mean any contestant, official or audience member, which means that we're forbidding spells that can produce undesirable accidents. No incendio, reductor or comparable." Again she paused. "For the audience, we have put in place a second safeguard in the form of a room-length ward that should prevent all spells from harming you. When we tested it, we discovered that the ward partially blocks the effects of disillusionment charms. Harry decided that was a perfect little accidental bonus because if contestants disillusion, the audience will actually still be able to see them... although they will probably look a bit shimmery."

Ginny paused to consult her notes, then resumed, "The object will be to immobilize your opponents. For today's activity, once anyone has become immobilized, teammates are not permitted to revive that person. If the seven hunters immobilize Harry before the twenty minute clock expires, they will be considered victorious. For Harry to win, he must immobilize all hunters. Anything else can be considered a draw." She took a deep breath and began walking quickly toward the sideline. "Let the match begin!"

"Five two P!" yelled a female voice that Harry recognized immediately as Mary-Jo. Harry didn't know what 'five two P' meant, but whatever it signified he was pretty sure he'd better take cover — now — and dedicate a minute to trying to hone in on the seven magical essences on the playing field.

Unbeknownst to his seven adversaries, Harry had tested the invisible spectator protection ward running the length of the Room of Requirement and discovered that it also had the tangible unique benefit to him of masking the dozens of potentially distracting magical essences in the stands. That would enable him to focus more clearly on the seven that were most crucial to his task. He was pretty certain that the students would use disillusionment charms, but he would still be able to sense them.

Near the bottom of one the hills, he found a rock that provided him with 180 degrees of cover, and hastily put up a shield to protect the remaining portion of himself. He closed his eyes, visualized a map of the terrain in the playing field, and superimposed the seven magical auras onto that map. His situation began to become clear.

Although the playing field would appear to most spectators as a largely random jumble of rocks, with a couple of hills placed within the large central area, the students' had clearly invested a large amount of thought into the layout. The largest boulders, all six of them, were arranged along the periphery. Each of these six boulders provided excellent protection: someone crouching behind any of these stones were only vulnerable to attack from someone standing on a hill. Furthermore, given the angles of rock faces, each boulder provided protection from one of the hills, but only one, not both, of the hills.

He opened his eyes as it all came together. The peripheral boulders were excellent defensive positions, but anyone crouching behind one would be in a poor position for attack. The hills were excellent attack positions, but were difficult to defend. Between the peripheral boulders and the central hills were a number of smaller additional boulders, strategically situated to provide a bit of cover for anyone attempting to run from the periphery to one of the central hills. That was the plan! The students planned to man the periphery, and filter attackers to the hills to harass Harry! In his current position hunched behind a smaller boulder, he was largely sheltered from the students on the periphery, but would be a sitting duck to anyone on the nearest hill.

The very moment he made that realization, he suddenly figured out what Mary-Jo's "two" meant. There were 'two' students making a dash toward the hill right above him. It made perfect sense for them to send two people together: one to shield and one to fire. Harry had not yet figured out his best counter-strategy, but one thing was abundantly clear: he could not let two very determined and wily students perch on the hill right above him!

Sustaining his shield behind him, he threw caution to the wind and charged straight up the hill, dispensing a barrage of weak stupefies directly in his wake just in case he had misjudged the students' positions.

"Zero C2! Zero C2!" cried out an agitated Quinn. Harry had still not figured out the instruction code that they were shouting, but the tone of Quinn's voice told Harry that his decision to charge up the hill was exactly what the others did not want.

As Harry reached the crest, he sensed the two charging students slack off and retreat to positions behind smaller intermediate boulders. He also sensed the crackle of spell fire in the air around him, but it was poorly aimed; likely the consequence of poor site-lines from the peripheral boulders.

"M C2! M C2!" yelled Mary-Jo. In response to this command, Harry felt a sudden jolt as all seven students suddenly left their cover for barely a second then slipped immediately back into place. What the... ??

The implications of that command were immediate. The errant spellfire paused for only a moment, and then was replaced by a deadly accurate series of stupefies that rattled off Harry's shield. Feeling the reverberations through his arm, he ground to a halt just short of the hill summit, realizing that if he proceeded another twenty feet, he would be susceptible along a full 360 degrees, and even he had not yet managed to project a shield spanning much more than half a sphere. He had read once that Grindelwald had mastered a complete, spherical shield, but this skill had remained inaccessible to everyone else, since it would require the ability to emanate controlled, powerful magic in a completely non-directional manner.

"Two C2!" Mary-Jo shouted. C2 obviously was the hill that Harry had mostly climbed. By the feel of it, the two students who had begun charging the hill earlier were once again on the approach. If they took the hill summit, then Harry would be exposed surrounded. That's when the audience saw him grin in inspiration.

Holding his shield steady behind him, Harry charged forward and, on the fly, conjured a stone wall, four feet high by six feet in length, on the side of the summit immediately above the two approaching students. He dashed the final ten feet into the cover of the wall. Then, counting on the element of surprise, he let his rear shield drop for several seconds as he stood tall, leaned over the wall and fired two-fisted stupefies, taking down both Sarah and Nick who were only a few seconds sprint from the summit. Harry restored his shield and huddled at the base of his wall.

"Arrgghhh!!" bellowed Mary-Jo. Harry was pretty sure that this was a code phrase for something unprintable.

Things went quiet for a long moment. "M C2 update!" Quinn yelled. Harry once again felt all of the remaining students jump instantly out from their cover for a second or two then retreat back. The earlier tip-off was almost enough for Harry: in the instant that they left their cover, he whipped to one side and dashed off a couple rapid impedimenta spells toward one student (probably Jack) who was a little slow to resume cover. The second spell went just wide of his foot; Harry swore under his breath at the missed opportunity.

After thirty seconds, Mary-Jo shouted, "Five P." The command was calm. Nobody moved. After another brief interval, Mary-Jo again shouted "Five P." Again no one stirred. Shield facing forward, Harry edged upwards to test the water. No sooner had his head edged above the level of his wall, spellfire sizzled from behind him, and he fell back to the ground. Pretty sharp perception for people hidden behind boulders!

The audience buzzed. "How'd they do that? How do they see him?" Tonks whispered to Ginny. Ginny shrugged. There was clearly some dynamic at work here that almost nobody in the room could unravel.

Before anyone had too much time to ponder the mystery, Mary-Jo cried out, "Five action!" and all of a sudden the whole field was a blaze of frenzied motion: all five students dashing madly from cover to cover, each dash punctuated by a stream of stupefies, impedimentas, leg-locker curses and, oddly enough, even stinging hexes, aimed directly at Harry, whose shield was buffeted and rattled by the intense, sporadic and diverse barrage. The frenzy persisted: students dashing solo along the periphery in both clockwise and counter-clockwise, occasionally darting inwards to one of the intermediate boulders, before racing back out again.

"Sweet Merlin with flowers in his hair!" Tonks mumbled. Lupin nodded with a deep frown on his face.

Ginny was mesmerized, but her subconscious recorder was hard at work, because while she had no idea how this strategy, whatever it was, would play out, she knew that it was something that she and Harry should devote some solid pensieve time to. Eight rows above them, Hermione and Ron sat with very different demeanors. Ron's eyes were zipping back and forth, an expression of utter bafflement on his face. Hermione, however, was barely even watching; she had a scroll and self-inking quill and was hastily drawing diagrams, raising her eyes occasionally to try to detect more nuances.

Harry spent nearly a minute of concentrating on nothing but his shield, which had proven imperfect in addressing the diversity of spell type and direction, but fortunately only a couple of stinging hexes had slipped through before he managed to tune it to the full range of incoming magic. Temporarily safe, but pinned in place, he tried to spot a pattern to the motion in order to forecast any gambits, lures or directional thrusts that might emerge, but the strategy remained opaque. Finally, although he recognized that although it would be very risky for him to try to move right now, he spotted a way by which he could work things to his advantage, not by trying to anticipate any specific pattern, but rather by relying on his opponents' diversity of motion. Specifically, if he focused not on specific people, but rather on a specific region of the playing field, he should be able to catch students in the brief moments when they were exposed. Holding shield steady with one hand he focused his mind on one blank space hosting the intersection of several paths between boulders. He concentrated... concentrated... sensed an aura about to emerge from the boulder on the right, unleashed three stupefies in rapid succession... and down went Jack Trowers.

"Two two C2!" came Mary-Jo's frantic instruction. All four remaining students skidded to a halt and changed direction. Harry sensed them converging into two pairs, and then realized that both pairs were suddenly out in the open, charging directly at him from two oblique directions. He fired an intense volley of impedimenta spells at the nearer of the pairs but saw his spells deflect harmlessly, while a sporadic burst of hexes emerged from both pairs. Harry then realized two things: the first and obvious was that each pair was composed of one person holding a shield while the other cast spells, and the second: this was almost certainly a last-ditch effort to break the stalemate in the face of what was probably an expiring clock. He couldn't actually see the time because the clock was directly behind him, but he sensed that it was now or never: he needed to somehow penetrate those shields.

Harry knew that there were two different ways to defeat shields: bash through them with intense spellfire or get around them. Not wanting to throw too much energy into offense on one pair when he needed to simultaneously defend against the other, he chose the second option. Sensing that the spellfire on his left was a bit more erratic than that on his right, he sprinted directly toward the leftmost pair. When he had closed to within ten feet of them, he quickly veered hard left, while spinning to unleash a rapid stream of weak, but wide-angled petrificus totalus spells. Quinn and his shield both dropped to the ground, leaving Mary-Jo, standing alone, undefended in the midst of casting her offensive spells. Her disillusionment charm fell as she scrambled to muster a shield against Harry's onslaught, but he was too fast for her.

Jaws clenched, eyes blazing, she roared, "Oh sh... !!" and dropped to her knees, frozen.

Harry spun around as his shield nearly splintered. The last two students were charging straight toward him, no shields of their own, opting instead for a veritable fireworks of every legal hex or spell in the book. Crouched barely above the ground, shocked by the dazzling array of rapid fire spells, Harry flung every ounce of his power into his shield, took a deep breath to try to find a balanced shield power that would still permit him to unleash some offensive spells of his own when...