Do You Believe in Miracles?

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

They Do Always Seem to Enjoy That, My Lord

“Remus!”

Entering the Room of Requirement, Harry stepped forward and embraced his former teacher. Weeks had passed since he’d last seen Remus Lupin, and Harry missed the man greatly.

“Harry! How are you? I’ve missed you, you know.”

“I’ve missed you, too.”

Remus smiled warmly at Harry. He was clean and healthy-looking, if not a little thinner than before. Harry assumed it was a result of Sirius’ death, as he himself had certainly lost weight in the past few months.

“How have you been, Harry?” Remus asked again.

Figuring he could not give an accurate answer, Harry shrugged. Some days he was fine, others were nearly impossible to take the next breath.

“Harry,” Remus began, looking evenly at Harry, “I know it’s been hard, and I know I’m not your parent or your godfather, but….”

The old werewolf sighed. Harry furrowed his brow as he tried to work out what Remus was saying.

“If you ever need to talk about Si… Sirius, I’m here for you, Harry. I miss him too and….“

Remus cut off as his voice caught in his throat, and the awkward atmosphere caused Harry to tense. He loved Remus, but Harry was not ready to discuss Sirius with anyone, especially not with one of Sirius and his parents’ best friends.

“Remus,” Harry interrupted, “I’m okay, really. I mean, it’s hard… but I’m doing okay. I promise.” He gave the other man a reassuring look and a quick hug.

The door opened and Harry turned around to see Ron and Hermione enter with Ginny, Neville and Luna; his first D.A. members of the new year. He motioned them over, and Hermione began a parchment for them to sign much like their previous one but without the secrecy spells.

Within minutes, the Room of Requirement began to fill with students from every House. Harry thought for sure that the Room began to expand as did their numbers, and he decided to give a few more minutes for the last stragglers to arrive.

As Harry shut the door for the final time, he looked around at the people scattered in the room. Nearly all of the original D.A. was in attendance, as well as nearly twice as many new members. Harry felt a small twinge of nervousness at the number of students he was being asked to teach. Did their teachers even have classes this big?

Scanning the room to look over the new members, Harry quickly spotted the blond hair of Draco Malfoy among a small group of Slytherins. Turning away, he avoided eye contact with the boy whom he had broken down in front of the previous day. Harry sincerely hoped Malfoy did not plan to embarrass him in front of all the students he was supposed to teach.

“Ron, Hermione,” Harry said quietly, “I need you guys; Ginny, Neville and Luna, too. I can’t watch everyone at the same time. I need your help.”

The group nodded their heads as Harry summoned the courage to begin his lesson.

“All right, everyone,” he called. “We’re going to split into groups and work on disarming jinxes, just to see where everyone is right now,” he added in response to the groans coming from the more experienced members. ‘Expelliarmus’ was an obvious bore to anyone who had been in the D.A. last year.

“Some of the more experienced members and Professor Lupin are going to come around and make sure you’ve got it,” Harry said, gesturing to the group of his friends behind him, watching as the students broke themselves off into groups. Harry let the others choose groups to work with, letting out a groan when he noticed the group he was left with, as if he should have expected anything else.

He walked over to the small group standing near the back of the room, comprised mostly of Slytherins. Zacharias Smith argued with one of the members of the group, and Harry sped up to try and prevent them attacking each other, sure that Zacharias would be outnumbered.

“ - just here to spy on Harry, huh? So you can attack him and run home to tell your parents what good little Death Eaters you’ve been?!”

Pansy Parkinson stood at the head of the Slytherin group, hands on her robust hips, looking irritated. “Don’t be ridiculous, Smith. We’re here to learn Defence. None of us are Death Eaters, so deal with it and leave us alone.”

Harry walked briskly to get between the two.

“Oi! What’s this all about?” he asked.

“They’re just here to hurt you, Harry! They’re Slytherins. What else would they be here for? They’re probably on You-Know-Who’s orders!” Zacharias’s face flushed as he spoke to Harry, his eyes never leaving the Slytherins.

Harry looked at the group and noticed a portion of the Slytherins were students from his own year. Pansy Parkinson stood less than a metre from Zacharias, while two students Harry recognized as Blaise Zabini and Millicent Bullstrode stood just behind her on either side. Draco Malfoy was behind his classmates, scowling as he watched the procession. Harry held the boy’s gaze, as if daring him to bring up the previous night’s events. He would have sworn Malfoy gave him an almost imperceptible nod before looking away.

“Er, yeah,” Harry said distractedly, turning his surprised eyes back to the group before him, “why exactly are you here? I mean… you’ve never shown much support for me before,” he added, sincerely hoping to get an answer.

Pansy huffed. “We’re here to learn Defence, like I told this one,” she hissed, pointing at Zacharias. “Besides, it’s extra credit for Defence Against the Dark Arts, and if you haven’t noticed, Potter, this war doesn’t only affect you.”

Doubting very much that they were only here for the extra credit, Harry stared at Pansy sceptically. It was hard to believe the children of Death Eaters had not learned more from their parents than Harry could ever teach them. Even though he knew Malfoy was on the Order’s side, he had heard nothing about the loyalties of the others. However, Harry knew he could not judge the Slytherins by their parents, or he would be no better than Snape.

“All right, I believe you,” he said, keeping eye contact with Pansy.

Zacharias’ jaw dropped. “Wha - what?!”

Harry looked directly into the pale blue eyes of the boy before him. “I’m not going to refuse to teach them because they‘re Slytherins, Smith. The moment they betray or go against me, they will no longer be welcome here, but that applies to every person in this room.

“Besides,” he continued, “it’s like Pansy said, this war doesn’t just involve me. They need to be able to defend themselves, too.”

Harry felt the stare of Pansy’s beady brown eyes on his back as he spoke to Zacharias. The Hufflepuff scowled at Harry before walking several steps away and waiting for Harry’s direction.

Turning his back to the Slytherins to make sure they were okay with his declaration, he noticed the four eyeing him speculatively.

“Interesting, Potter,” Pansy said slowly.

Harry raised his eyebrows to the girl, and took out his wand to begin working on their disarming jinxes.

After more than an hour of correcting technique and incantation, Harry was faced with nearly eighty Hogwarts students who could all properly disarm an opponent. He felt the familiar warmth that came from having his peers learn from him and produce results.

“We’ll meet back here Tuesday at the same time, everybody. Great job tonight,” he said.

The students bade Harry goodbye as they departed for their common rooms and Harry was slightly surprised to receive respectful nods from the Slytherins on their way out. Harry had to admit, they did seem genuinely interested in learning from him and had been as attentive as any of the others as they worked. Even if he was not yet convinced of all their true loyalties, he held hope that perhaps they would still turn to the Light side. Everyone who refused to join Voldemort was one less enemy Harry had to face on the battlefield….

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry collapsed into bed Monday night exhausted and exhilarated. He had no regrets about handing the Quidditch Captaincy to Ron after seeing the way his friend ran tryouts that evening. His red-haired friend had a natural affinity for strategy and leadership. Given the opportunity, he took it in stride. Not to mention the less time Harry could spend in the spotlight, the better, in his opinion.

After a long warm-up and gruelling tryouts, Gryffindor House had a team with tremendous potential. Harry had returned to his position as Seeker, and Ron to his position of team Keeper. Ginny, Katie Bell, and Dean Thomas made up the Chasers, and two new students filled the positions of Beaters: a fierce fourth year named Hannah Muffet and third year Taylor Andrews, who had nearly knocked Ron off his broomstick during tryouts.

Pulling the curtains shut on his four poster bed, Harry fell into an deep slumber within minutes.

“My Lord, the preparations are in place.”

Harry looked down with disdain at the kneeling form of Lucius Malfoy.

“Excellent, Lucius. Soon I will have my revenge,” he answered with a smirk.

Bellatrix Lestrange’s maniacal laughter filled the room.

“Quiet, Bella! Have you fulfilled your duties?” he sneered, eyeing her with contempt.

The tall woman knelt before Harry, eyes fixed to the floor.

“Yes, Master. Potter will be at your mercy this Samhain. I can only beg for a moment to play with baby Potter before you dispose of him.”

“Tell me what you would do to the boy,” Harry commanded.

Bellatrix’s eyes glinted maliciously. “Master, I would make him scream for a mercy he would never receive. His dirty blood would spill at your feet. I could eviscerate him while he watched….”

Lucius’s lips transformed themselves into his signature smirk. “They do always seem to enjoy that, my Lord.”

“There is no need to beg, Bella,” said Harry. “You will have your play time. I cannot wait to hear him scream.”

A sizzling white-hot burn pierced through Harry’s scar. Sure his head was going to burst, the world seemed to swim before him, and he found himself starring into the red cat-like eyes of Lord Voldemort.

“Ah, Harry, how nice of you to join us,” sneered Voldemort, his voice high pitched and cold. “I see you have not yet lost the habit of eavesdropping when you are unwelcome. Oh well, no matter. Neither you nor that meddling old fool can stop me this time. I will be seeing you soon, Harry….”

“NOOOOOO!!” Harry woke with a start, screaming as he opened his eyes to see the blurry red hair of Ron Weasley.

“Neville, go get McGonagall!” Ron bellowed.

His friend’s voice came as if it were far away. Harry trembled violently as he struggled to free himself of the bedcovers, gasping as he pressed a clammy hand to his burning scar. He never noticed the commotion in the room as he was pulled to his feet.

“Professor! Over here!”

Harry found himself looking at the face of his Head of House as his shaking frame was led down Gryffindor Tower.

“Dum…Dumble…“ he sputtered.

“Relax, Potter,” McGonagall said soothingly. “We’re going to see the Headmaster now.”

What seemed like hours later, Harry and Professor McGonagall entered the Headmaster’s Office.

“Harry, my boy! And Minerva! What brings you here at this late hour?” Dumbledore motioned in the pair before turning his blue eyes to Harry with concern. Harry took a wary seat in his usual chair.

“The boy has had another vision, Albus,” McGonagall began. “His friends were distraught; he hasn’t even calmed on the way down here.”

Dumbledore knelt down before Harry. The frightened teenager stared blankly out the office window and Dumbledore’s fingers gently coaxed his chin to look at Harry directly.

“Harry. What happened?”

“I- I had a vision.” He let out a shaky breath. Harry had no idea where to begin, so he told the Headmaster everything he could remember.

“He said he was going to take me on ‘Samhain.’ When‘s Samhain?! And he said nothing you could do would stop him! How was he able to speak directly into my mind like that? I’ve been doing better in Occlumency. I practice everyday, I swear!” Harry babbled in fear as his voice began to rise.

“Harry!” Dumbledore said, putting up a hand to slow the younger boy. “I know you have practiced, and I have been informed you are making excellent progress in Occlumency. Do not doubt yourself, Harry. Voldemort has had a connection with you since the night he gave you that scar, and I believe that you will not be able to completely block a deliberate attack on your mind until you master Occlumency. That will take time.”

Harry felt slightly better about his own efforts, but he was hardly reassured.

“As to your other concerns, Samhain is an ancient wizarding festival of darkness and death, long lost over the years. It is the night when the Darkness runs free, wild and untamed, yet doing no harm. Celebrated on October thirty-first only by the most traditional of wizards, it is usually to honour those who have died. However, in past years Voldemort has corrupted the evening using an evil ritual to harness the Dark‘s power.” Dumbledore’s face was tight with the cold fury Harry had only seen a couple times, and never wanted to see again.

“Also, never forget, Harry, Voldemort is overconfident in himself and arrogant in the extreme. He will always think no one can thwart him, and he will always be wrong. I will not let any more unnecessary harm befall you, my boy. I promise you, I will do everything to keep you safe.”

Harry barely managed a weak nod in response. Still terrified of his vision and even more terrified to fall back asleep, he felt his traitorous eyes going droopy with exhaustion as the threat of immediate danger dissipated. He complied as the Headmaster took a Pensieve memory of his dream and was exceptionally grateful when the man handed him a vial of Dreamless Sleep.

“I will examine the memory for any information you may have missed, Harry. Come to my office tomorrow after dinner and we will work out a plan for your protection. For now, I am sure of your safety for the evening, so return to your dormitory and try and get some rest, my boy.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry tried furiously to avoid looking at Malfoy during their next Potions class and found himself utterly distracted from their modified Draught of Peace assignment. Malfoy was a constant reminder of his father and of Harry’s vision. He shivered as he remembered Malfoy Sr.’s smirk and repulsive tone as he told Voldemort how his victims ‘liked’ to watch themselves being disembowelled.

Sick, sick fucking bastard…, he sneered to himself. A tremor ran through his body just as he went to add their syrup of hellebore, pouring more liquid than required into the simmering cauldron. Their silvery vapour suddenly turned dark and viscous. Harry swore under his breath as Malfoy glared at him for the mistake.

Snape approached their desk and stared into the cauldron. Harry closed his eyes and waited to be scolded. Slowly opening his eyes, he noticed Snape giving him a calculating look before continuing on.

“What the fuck, Potter?!” Malfoy sneered under his breath, working quickly to save their potion.

Harry shook his head, his mind still stuck on Snape’s silence and pondered at the irony of the situation. Had Snape not yelled at Harry in fifth year for messing up the exact same step in the original Draught of Peace?

After a terse lunch, Harry began walking up the increasingly familiar stairs to the Headmaster’s Office. He pushed open the door and stared blankly at the group of people before him. Snape, McGonagall and Aberforth were seated before the Headmaster’s desk, all the professors who were invested in his well-being in one way or another.

Four pairs of eyes followed Harry as he took a seat in the remaining chair. He stared at his fidgeting hands to avoid his teachers’ eyes.

“Harry,” called Dumbledore softly. When Harry met the Headmaster’s gaze, the man looked every year of his age.

“I have viewed the memory you gave me last night, Harry, as well as other sources to confirm your suspicions. There is indeed a plan, and Severus assures me that Voldemort is extremely confident that it will succeed.”

Harry swallowed, trying to squash his anxiety. “How do you know that, sir?”

“It is enough that we know, Potter!” Snape hissed.

Harry responded with a tiny nod and looked back down at his shaking hands. He must have been at a Death Eater meeting, Harry thought. He knows they’re going to try and take me…. He might be forced to help!

The young man panted in his panicked state. It was one thing to learn of a situation, act on impulse and rely on adrenaline to keep a clear head. It was another thing entirely to deal with the forewarned knowledge and panic that something could happen, and Harry thought he rather preferred the former.

“Do not fear, Harry,” Dumbledore said. “We are doing everything in our power to protect you and already have several plans in place to assure you stay that way.”

The old man stood up and walked around the desk to face Harry.

“The wards on the school have already been checked and reinforced. New wards are being erected as we speak.”

Harry gave him a nod. He truly appreciated the man’s efforts, but he could not help but think that they would not be enough.

He looked up as the Headmaster called his name once more. The older man held out his hand, and Harry reached his out in return to accept whatever Dumbledore was giving him. A small gold ring dropped onto Harry’s palm. The ring was a simple golden band with a flat emerald inlayed at the top.

“Sir…?” Harry asked, confused as to why the man was giving him jewellery.

“The ring is attuned to your magical signature, Harry. It will heat up when any person within five meters means you serious physical harm. No one can remove it from your finger, unless you remove it yourself. If you touch the stone and speak the incantation ‘Reverto Suboles,’ you will be immediately returned to my office where the mother stone resides.” Dumbledore motioned to a large emerald in a glass case.

The man smiled softly at Harry and continued. “It is very carefully enchanted to ensure anyone checking the stone for curses will think it is simply to heat up when you are near enemies, and in the unlikely event that you are captured, your captors would not think twice to leave you with something that would cause more pain. It is the best way to assure they would not remove it.”

“How would they remove it, if only I can?” Harry asked timidly, afraid of the answer.

Aberforth turned his hard, blue eyes to him. “I doubt the Death Eaters would be wary to cut off your finger, Harry.”

Harry blanched as he regarded Aberforth after the man’s statement. Letting out a breath, Harry put his face in his hands, rubbing anxiously at his eyes; the actuality of his situation was becoming more and more real by the minute.

Weight pressed onto Harry’s shoulder and he lifted his head to see the sad eyes of his Headmaster.

“Breathe, Harry. I have no doubt that you will remain safe, and Voldemort will once again fail.“ The man stood up and returned to his desk.

“However, the ring has several extra protections on it. It is enchanted with the most powerful Tracking Charm, so if you are removed from the school, the Order will be alerted to your location immediately to remove any Anti-Apparition and Anti-Portkey wards preventing your ring from being activated. The ring will turn cold when it is possible for you to activate the stone and return to the castle.”

Harry nodded and turned the item on his finger, feeling as if the ring was rather risky. He had to hope no one discovered the its true use and cut off his finger, let alone wait until the Order could dispel wards before he could get out. The Killing Curse could be said in seconds; dispelling wards could take hours….

“Severus, if you would please?”

Harry watched as Snape stood up and went to the door. Confused, Harry turned back to Dumbledore.

“There is one final precaution we are taking, Harry.” The older man beckoned towards the door, and Harry watched with growing dread as Snape returned a moment later with Malfoy. Didn’t Harry see enough of him already?!

Malfoy took a seat between Snape and Aberforth, obviously as confused as Harry was as he looked at the others.

“In light of recent events, Harry will be taking up residence in Mr. Malfoy’s dormitory.” The Headmaster’s eyes held their twinkle, and Harry knew that look meant trouble.

“WHAT?!” bellowed Malfoy. “He can’t stay with me! You said those rooms were mine!”

“You have your own rooms?!” asked Harry incredulously.

“Yes, Potter,” Malfoy retorted, “and you are not welcome in them!”

“Why does Malfoy get his own rooms?!”

“Perhaps because my father is a maniac who put a price on my head the moment I switched sides?!”

“Boys!” yelled McGonagall, speaking for the first time in their meeting. “I understand you may have past grievances with each other, but you will put them aside in common interests and learn to be civil!”

The boys lowered their heads in chastisement before glaring at one another. Snape looked as if he was imagining a long, painful death for each of them.

“Minerva is right, boys,“ Dumbledore agreed. “Draco, your rooms are the most warded and protected in the school, and for the time being, Harry needs the advantage of those wards. Harry, it will be expected that you are in Gryffindor Tower, and any advantage should be used as such.”

“Indeed, it may be unfortunate, although it is the best solution,” drawled Snape. “The dormitory is also close enough to my own chambers that I should be able to keep an eye on you two in hopes that you do not succeed in hexing each other into oblivion.”

Malfoy glared daggers at Snape mutinously. Harry sighed and resigned himself to living with his school rival for Merlin knew how long.

“What about my friends, sir?” Harry asked Dumbledore.

“You are welcome to have any guests you wish, Harry. However, you must invite them in exclusively each time, as the wards will not allow them entry otherwise. This situation is only until the end of October, gentlemen. Afterward, if all goes well, Harry can move back to Gryffindor Tower and return to a normal routine.”

Harry held back a laugh in the irony of the statement . His life was never normal. Dumbledore inclined his head as if he realized what Harry’s half-hidden grin was about.

Professor McGonagall put a hand on Harry’s arm. “You are still welcome in Gryffindor Tower any time, Mr. Potter. The only restriction is that you must return to your new chambers before curfew.”

“Yes, Potter,” Snape sneered. “It would be prudent for you to refrain from your late night wandering for the time being.”

Harry clenched his jaw and stared at his Potions teacher. Over the past weeks, he discovered Snape could actually be civil during Occlumency, but that did not stop him from being an insufferable bastard the rest of the time.

“Now as it is nearly time for lessons to begin, we will get Harry settled into his new rooms tomorrow, and he can spend this evening in Gryffindor Tower.”

“Ay, boys,” said Aberforth. “You’re both excused from my class tomorrow morning to get settled in, but I expect your homework to be turned into my office before tomorrow evening.”

Harry and Malfoy muttered a disgruntled thanks to their teacher and Dumbledore excused them in time to retrieve their books before Potions class.

Great, thought Harry on his way out. I get to live with Malfoy or let Voldemort have me. Lucky me.

To Be Continued…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Author’s Note: Sooooo… the question is… Will Dumbledore’s wards fail, and the boys end up captured, or do the wards work, and the boys bond over their new living arrangements?? Let me know what you think!

A hugggeee thanks to KitBaiu, and ShadowSamurai for whipping me into shape! An even bigger thanks to everyone who’s read and reviewed, you guys make this worthwhile!

Next week’s chapter title is… “Welcome To Our Humble Abode.”
(And I must say, ‘tis one of my favourite chapters!! 0.o)