Harry Potter sat in a compartment of the Hogwarts Express as it quietly rattled on toward London, well past midnight. Hermione was leaning against him, dozing; his arm was wrapped around her waist. A thick book, On the Applications of Geometry, lay on the seat beside her, neatly bookmarked thirty pages in; on Harry's left sat a small confectionery box. The cabin felt empty with just the two of them, but no-one had felt comfortable enough to sit with them for long. Neville had spent time with them, but as the night wore on, he'd left to sit with some friends from Hufflepuff.

Outside, buildings from the outskirts of London rushed into view and past them, vague masses in the dark; the Express began slowing down and its whistle blew gently for a moment. They were only a few minutes from King's Cross. Harry gently shook Hermione awake.

"Mm?" she asked sleepily.

"We're almost here," he said. There was no risk of being overheard, but he still instinctively kept his voice low. "We should make sure everyone's awake and quiet." He took up his sweet box and offered it to her; she took out the last brownie and ate it.

He'd had the second-last a few hours ago, and the same Wakefulness Potion spread through her body. She stood up to stretch, leaving a cold patch against his chest.

"Thanks, Harry," she said. She picked up her book and put it away in her pouch around her neck, which was maybe a twentieth of the book's size. "Let's go."

Being used to using magic, they hadn't thought to bring lamps or candles, and the train was shrouded in darkness, but perhaps that was just as well. They held hands and felt their way down the corridor, knocking on each cabin door as they passed, making sure those inside were awake and knew not to do any magic. At the end of their carriage, they bumped into Sirius. Unlike the teenagers, he was still wearing his black robes.

"Everyone on this side is awake," he said, also instinctively keeping his voice down. "Are you both ready to go?"

"We're hardly going to take much luggage just for one day," said Hermione.

Harry's eyes flicked down to the glittery pink purse at his side. He actually did have rather a lot of stuff with him, but it shouldn't slow him down.

"Be careful," said Sirius.

"Really," said Harry.

They winced as the brakes squealed, and the train hove to a stop. Sirius opened the door, transformed, and sniffed experimentally. After a few seconds, he cautiously wagged his tail once and loped off the train, into the darkness.

Hermione pulled Harry's Invisibility Cloak out of her pouch and threw it on. They'd had a long argument, each insisting the other wear it and get the extra protection; Harry had won more out of stubbornness than reasoned debate. She ghosted away.

King's Cross had closed for the night hours ago, and the only noise was that of the late-night city traffic outside; passing cars and the beat of techno music from a nightclub. The air was still warm, and quite windy. Empty plastic bags and lolly wrappers blew against locked chicken wire gates.

Harry followed Hermione out, walking as quietly as he could, wand raised, expecting attack at any moment. It would be too much to hope that none of their enemies knew they were coming. Hopefully they wouldn't sink to attacking a train full of twelve-year-olds, although that might be optimistic. It hadn't stopped them before.

"Harry," Hermione breathed, beside him. "Up ahead is a locked gate. I can't open it without triggering everyone's Traces. Do you have Sirius' magic knife with you?"

"Give me a minute," said Harry. He stuck his hand into his purse, up to the shoulder, and rummaged around.

"We're only away from Hogwarts for less than one day," Hermione whispered. He could hear gravel crunching gently as she moved around. "What on Earth did you bring?"

"Everything," he said gloomily. "I'm used to using Summoning Charms as a sort of all-purpose filing system; it didn't occur to me that I wouldn't be able to use one here." He pushed a butterbeer aside and finally found the knife. "Got it."

Sirius walked up and transformed back. "I can't smell any trails fresher than two hours old," he said. "Except for one man who smells worse than I did two years ago. I'm pretty sure he's a homeless Muggle. He's asleep."

"Could he be a Polyjuiced enemy?" asked Hermione's disembodied voice.

"The smell's too authentic," said Sirius, tapping his nose. "Dog senses, remember? Anyway, it looks like we're clear."

"Stay on guard, and lead the students out," said Harry.

He followed the familiar route to the nearest gate; padlocked chicken wire, like the rest. He slid the blade in and jinked it around; the lock clicked open and fell into his open palm. He waved back to the train, pushed the gate open, and walked out.

Before the Express had set out, McGonagall had sent letters to all parents, telling them to pick up their children at noon the next day, and then sent Patronuses to amend that to three thirty a.m., since it was a safe bet that at least one of those owls would be intercepted. Muggle parents idled in cars lined up along the street, while a group of wizards and witches stood around, chatting quietly.

Harry walked into a street lamp's circle of light, and they stopped talking at once. He smiled and gave a thumbs-up.

"We're all here," he said. He stood off to one side, as the students filed out of the station, one or two abreast. They greeted their parents and were driven or Apparated away: ten, twenty, thirty …

"It looks like we're in the clear," Hermione whispered.

"I can't believe it," Harry replied, not looking around. "I was sure some idiot would give the game away by casting a light charm or something."

"Me too," she said. "I can't wait until we're back at Hogwarts. Should we go?"

"If anyone were going to attack, they'd hardly wait until half of us had already left," Harry said. "I'd better tell Sirius we're heading out."

"I'll go," said Hermione. "You'll probably need longer to talk to your family than I will for mine. I'll find you at Little Whinging when I'm done, and then we'll go and look for Cho?"

"Sounds good," he said. "See you in a minute, Hermione." And he Disapparated.

… … …

This is the sequel to my previous novel, Honey, which you can reach from my profile (FF doesn't like hyperlinks). If you haven't already read that, do; this chapter is partly a recap and brimming with spoilers. If you have, then may I present Milk …

… … …

One of the conditions of Harry's provisional Apparition licence was that he was forbidden from Apparating into public spaces such as urban roads, but this didn't really seem like the time or place to worry about that. He stuffed his wand and purse into his jean pockets and rang the doorbell, hoping that the Dursleys would be cooperative despite being woken at this hour and knowing they wouldn't.

The doorbell had been changed since last time; rather than the standard ding-dong, it tweeted a tasteless little tune. After a few notes it was, thankfully, drowned out by a series of furious barks. Harry blinked; Aunt Petunia hated animals, he couldn't imagine her letting one sleep in the house. Maybe Dudley had asked for one for Christmas and thrown a tantrum until she acquiesced? Harry couldn't imagine him actually walking or otherwise taking care of one, but it was the sort of thing he might have asked for anyway.

There came the thumping of heavy footfalls, and the lights came on, blindingly bright against Harry's night-adjusted eyes. The door swung open. Inside was Aunt Marge.

They stared at each other for a moment, then she slammed the door. It had a catch that automatically locked when shut; Harry stuck his knife in, twisted, and shoved it back open.

"Get out," Marge said, glaring.

"Wait," said Harry. The knife had fallen out of the keyhole; he caught it before it fell and dropped it back into his purse.

"Get out or I'll call the police for breaking and entering," she said. "No, wait, if you're here at this hour, you must have committed a crime already. I'm calling the police."

"Wait, please," said Harry. "This is important. I need to talk to Uncle Vernon. It's urgent."

She gave him a truly murderous glare.

"It'll be even more urgent when the police get here, you little rodent," she said.

"Look – Vernon, Petunia and Dudley are all in great danger," said Harry. "I have to warn them."

"You're a lying sneak," she said. "Get off my property, now."

"Will you just let me talk to – wait, your property?" The penny dropped. "You mean –"

"I mean," she said. Her voice shook for the barest moment. "That they went to pick Dudders up from school two days ago, and there was a – car crash. And – now I'm staying here while they sort out the estate." Her voice hardened. "And I'm certainly taking in no criminal charity cases in the meantime."

"Of course," Harry said to himself. "Of course they did. Attack the source, while they're away from home and safety."

"What are you talking about, you hooligan? In fact, I don't care. Get off my property, now, or I'll charge you with trespass, too."

"Why did I wait until term ended?" Harry said. "Why did I give them time to get organised? Hermione!" He took off at a run, vaulted over the hedges and out of Marge's sight, and Disapparated.

Hermione's parents lived in a suite in an inner-city high-rise apartment block; when Harry Apparated outside, two Muggles were passing by. They didn't notice him appearing out of thin air, but neither could miss the crack of displaced air, and stared at him.

"Er," he said. "Don't mind me, that was just a, er, really loud pop from my bubblegum."

Both Muggles shrugged and went about their business.

Harry hurried over to the main gate. It was electronically locked; he wasn't sure whether the knife would work on it. He wasn't confident he could Apparate precisely up six storeys, either, so he buzzed the intercom for apartment 608.

"Hello?" came Hermione's voice.

He exhaled with relief. "It's me," he said. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine. My parents are just waking up. Why wouldn't I be fine? We haven't been apart for two minutes. How did you persuade the Dursleys so quickly?"

"Can you open the doors for me?" he asked.

"What's our first password? The fruit one?"

"Banana," he said. On her suggestion, they had spent a few minutes randomly flipping through a dictionary, coming up with call-and-response code phrases against impostors. They planned to discard each after use, in case they were overheard. "And the second half?"

"Needle." There came a click. "The door should be unlocked now. I'll have to send the lift too, hang on …"

A minute later, he knocked on her apartment's door. There came the padding of light feet and the door opened. Behind was a girl who might have been Hermione at age twelve, had she had short dyed-black hair and a glower. She wore boxers and a night shirt, both dark grey.

"Hello," said Harry. "You must be Hermione's sister? Tess?"

"'Lo," she mumbled. "C'mon in. Shut th' door b'hind you."

He followed her into the Grangers' maisonette, into their living room, which was much as he remembered it from his last visit: cluttered with books and personal projects and radiating an air of being very lived-in. There were bookshelves lining the walls, charcoal sketches over them, and four worktables overlooking a wall window. One, presumably designated for Hermione, was empty; the other three had a stripped-down personal computer beside some tools and spare components; a selection of artist's pencils and a canvas with a photo-realistic sketch of circling vultures; and a pile of books on ancient Egyptian culture, the life and times of JS Bach, and the Cold War.

Hermione had a kettle on; her parents were sitting on a couch, rubbing sleep out of their eyes. Tess hopped up onto the table with the sketch and gave Harry a long look. Her eyes were much darker than Hermione's, but possessed the same incisive intelligence.

"Hello," said her father, Em Granger. "What's going on? Oni just showed up out of the blue, saying she had to tell us something. I thought we were supposed to be picking you up tomorrow afternoon?"

"Hello," said Harry, then, to Hermione, "How much have you told them?"

"I – er – might have made a few tactical omissions in my letters home," she said, blushing.

Her parents exchanged glances.

"I thought we agreed to total honesty," said Harry.

"Well," said Hermione. "That is to say. Yes, I suppose so."

"Okay," said Harry. "Then we have to get out of here. Now. They're coming."

"What, already?" said Hermione. "I thought we had at least a few days before he revived again."

There was a delicate silence.

"Why don't you start from the start?" said her mother, Danni, looking at Harry. "Take a seat."

He shot Hermione an apologetic look and sat at the table with the books. "Okay. Let me think.

"It all began a bit more than a year ago, when Lord Voldemort, the Dark Wizard who was first defeated by a … spell misfire when I was a baby, managed to resurrect himself," Harry began. "He talked to me and told me that there was a conspiracy of ancient witches and wizards, headed by Albus Dumbledore, which performed a sacrificial ritual on Hogwarts graduates, mostly Muggle-borns. This obviously would have made Hermione a target. He persuaded me to help him work against Dumbledore in order to bring down the conspiracy. When that was done, he promised he would disband the Death Eaters to prevent their own blood purist agenda."

Em, Danni and Tess all exchanged glances. Em opened his mouth to interrupt, but Danni touched his arm and he stayed silent. Harry continued.

"Most people didn't believe he was really back, and he stayed undetected for a while. We tried to keep it that way. Then there came an attack on the wizarding world, when Hermione and I were at the circus. We suspected it was Dumbledore moving to destabilise the Ministry and seize power. Then there was another attack, on Hogsmeade, which killed two students. We met the perpetrator, the so-called Marionette Man, who told us he lost his childhood friends to the sacrificers. We then went with Voldemort to the Ministry of Magic main building. There was a prophecy about him and me being kept there; we later found out that one of us is destined to kill the other."

"It's less bad than it sounds," Hermione put in.

Harry gave her a sideways look. She really hadn't told them anything. Sensible of her. "We got the prophecy," he went on, "of course, but the Marionette Man showed up again and brought the building down on us. We barely escaped with our lives and covers, but Voldemort was revealed to the world. The Minister was overthrown, and a new man, Scrimgeour, replaced him. A few months after that, Hogwarts was attacked by the Marionette man. We helped fight off the attack and tracked him down. We cornered him, but then he … killed Ron, and got away again."

Danni sucked in air through her teeth. "You told us that the Prophet article was exaggerated," she said to Hermione.

"Um," Hermione said in a very small voice. "Yes. I – I thought you'd panic and pull me out of Hogwarts if you knew the truth."

"Panic?" Danni asked. "No, panicking is where I pull you out because, reading between the lines, there are blood supremacists at your school who regularly threaten you, and I doubt your teachers are capable or willing to protect you. Pulling you out because your classmate was killed while you watched is quite rational! It could so easily have been you, Oni."

"That's a fair point, actually," Harry said, turning to Hermione. "How do you know Voldemort didn't booby trap your body the same way he did Ron's, after the Ministry?"

"I checked with Madame Pomfrey two days ago," said Hermione. "There's no ink on my body and she couldn't find any residual magic. I suppose Voldemort must have thought I'd be likelier to check myself thoroughly, and if that had happened, the game would have been up."

"Maybe," said Harry. "Mrs Gran – er, Frobisher, hear me out, please. After that, Dumbledore took over as Minister. In retaliation, we and Voldemort cooked up a plan to kill him, which mostly worked. But there were problems. One, it turned out that Dumbledore was keeping the sacrificers from taking too many people. With him gone, there's nothing stopping them from committing mass abductions and murders. And if they do the rituals more, they'll become even more powerful.

"Two, Dolores Umbridge, the current Minister for Magic and a particularly nasty blood purist, killed Voldemort. Judging by Voldemort's last words, we think she escaped with the Elder Wand, which, according to legend and how well Dumbledore fought, makes the wielder unbeatable in battle. We expect her to also try to abduct and sacrifice people, especially students. She might be an even bigger problem than the older sacrificers, because she has control of the Ministry. Not only does that include the DMLE, but she also has instruments monitoring underage magic use.

"Three, it turns out that Voldemort was actually the one behind the Marionette Man, who was secretly our Defence professor in disguise. That makes three factions, all against us."

"Didn't you just say Voldemort was killed?" said Em. "By this Umbridge character?"

"This is the fourth time he's died that I know of, if you count the diary," said Harry. "He's come back to life faster each time; I think maybe he's getting better, what with all the practice."

"So he's revived already?" said Hermione in dismay. "I thought we'd have another week or two at least. How do you know?"

"Because the Dursleys are dead," he said.

There was a pause.

"Oh, Harry," said Hermione. "How –?"

"Aunt Marge said it was a car crash," said Harry. "When I was a kid and they didn't want me to know about magic, that's how they told me my parents died. Voldemort's read my mind and he likes to think he has a sense of humour, so …"

Hermione walked over and hugged him side-on. Em opened his mouth again, and again Danni touched his arm to keep him quiet.

"He must have targeted them to undermine my mother's blood sacrifice defence charm," Harry went on. "He's probably been planning it for a year at least. The charm kept his followers out, but he personally is immune to it because he was revived with my blood, so it must have been him."

"He was revived with your blood," Hermione stressed. "But that body was destroyed. His new form wouldn't be made of your blood. I mean, your psychic link is gone, isn't it?"

Harry shrugged. "Either way, he or someone working for him killed them to get at me. He's … not afraid, exactly … he's wary of me because the prophecy says I have a shot at killing him, but he actually respects you; he once called you 'the nearest thing to a competent student Hogwarts has'. So that means he's going to get at you in the same way. We're lucky they haven't been here already."

"Er, trying to see the forest rather than the trees," said Em, "a lot of violence has been going on, and Harry's family has already been attacked. Okay, if you say that we're likely to be next, we'll believe you; you'd know better than we would. You think we should go into hiding?"

"What?" said Tess, indignant enough to stop mumbling. "I only just started high school!"

"Yes," said Hermione, "sorry, Tess, but Voldemort, the sacrificers, the Ministry – they really aren't nice people. I don't think it'd be too hard to escape them, though. None of them understands Muggles at all; if you moved out of London and changed your names, I should think that would be enough, although I'd sleep easier if you left Britain altogether."

Em and Danni exchanged glances. He continued. "We trust your judgement, Oni. You have more information and experience in this than we do. But what about you? Both of you? You're obviously in even more danger, and you're children. If anyone should be fleeing, it's you."

"I can't," said Harry. "The prophecy says that either I or Voldemort will kill the other. If I fight him, win or lose that's fine, because the prophecy doesn't say that no-one else could kill him if I failed; but if I go into hiding, there'll be nothing that can stop him from taking over the world, and he knows this."

"I'm staying with him," said Hermione.

Her mother opened her mouth to argue.

"You can't stop me, Mum, not any more," said Hermione. "I can Apparate, for one thing. Sorry."

"You're fifteen," said Danni. "Children shouldn't fight in wars. Remember how you said that after you saw the documentary about Uganda?"

"That was when I really was a child," Hermione said quietly. "Mum. There's nowhere truly safe for me, not any more. My only chance is if we win."

"If it's not safe," said Tess, "why're you here?"

"We assume the post is being intercepted," said Hermione, "so we couldn't just write you a letter. And even if we did, we didn't think you'd go into hiding without a face-to-face discussion. Most families don't trust their children quite that much. Thank you for believing me. But yes, with those three factions out there, it's dangerous, so we're not staying here for long. Some of the Professors made Portkeys back to Hogwarts, and they're set to trigger at midnight. We hope that most of the students will get their families to flee in that time, and that no-one is attacked. It's very soon; our enemies hopefully aren't organised enough to do much on such short notice."

"We're setting up Hogwarts as a safe zone," said Harry. "It's a fortress, and there are enough of us that we should be able to hold it. We mean to dig in and hope the three enemy groups fight each other to a standstill. Muggles are welcome too, but I don't think that's a good idea."

"Because it's hiding out in the middle of a war zone?" Danni asked.

Hermione exchanged glances with Harry.

"Well, yes," said Hermione. "Also, there are Muggle-Repelling Charms and doors that you need wands to open and so on, and I get the feeling no-one will –"

"Hold the phone," said Em. "If Hogwarts isn't safe enough, and if you're planning on staying at Hogwarts –"

"Yes," said Hermione.

There was a pause.

"You'd better hurry up and pack," she added. Her voice shook. "At noon, the Ministry is going to realise that they've been had, and they won't be happy. Good luck and goodbye, mum, dad, Tess." She stood and hugged each in turn.

"What – now?" said Danni. "But you just got here. Aren't you at least going to spend the night? We could make up a couch …"

"We don't have the time," said Hermione. "We have to pick up a friend of Harry's and visit Diagon Alley before midnight tomorrow."

"That won't take twenty-three hours," Danni said.

"We expect to have to make a bit of a detour," Hermione said. "I'll see you all later. Good luck. I'm sorry." Harry took her hand, and they Disapparated.

They appeared in a pasture, empty except for a few sleeping cows. Hermione sat down.

"That was," she said, "easier than I'd expected."

Harry knelt down and gave her a hug. They stayed that way for a few minutes.

At length, she stretched, and they stood back up.

"Which way is it from here?" she asked.

"Give me a minute," said Harry. He put his hand over his purse. "Up." His Firebolt jumped into his hand; he mounted it and kicked off.

The sky was overcast here, with stars peeking out between the cloud cover. It was still quite warm, even at night, and the air was calmer than in London. The fields were reduced to dark grey blurs from the air. As he got higher, the landscape spread out below him. In most directions were more fields, chequered with matte black which might have been woods. In another was black with white spots: stars reflected in a lake, mirror-smooth in the still air. Straight ahead was a black polygon on a dark grey background: a manor house. Beyond it was more black with coloured lights, probably a village.

Harry landed and dismounted. "This way," he said, and they set off.

"Could we just fly there?" Hermione asked hopefully, after a minute, when she slipped on something she didn't choose to investigate.

"I don't think so," said Harry. "There are probably defences against the air, like at Hogwarts."

"Mm, it'd be pretty awkward if I had to heal a broken arm here," she said. "With our Traces."

"Do you know how?" he asked. "I'm pretty sure we've never learnt any medical magic in Charms."

"In theory, yes," Hermione said. "I've never done it before, though, and I'd like to have someone with experience with me for my first time."

There was a beat.

"I thought I might like to be a Healer," she continued, "but it's supposed to be really competitive, so to get a head start I've been reading a few books on medical magic, ever since we had careers advice."

"I thought you were going for the Auror stream," said Harry.

"They both have the same subjects," said Hermione. "Charms, Transfiguration, Defence, Herbology and Potions. And I'll stick with Arithmancy and Runes, of course. Like I said, they're competitive enough that I'd really better have as many NEWTs as possible. I thought about keeping Care of Magical Creatures too, but Professor McGonagall told me she wouldn't let me have another Time-Turner, not after how frazzled I was in third year."

He shook his head. She was mad. As if she wouldn't get into whatever she wanted, when she'd get at least five Outstanding NEWTs and probably special commendations in all of them.

They topped a rise, and Malfoy Manor came into view below them: huge, dark and ominous.

"Ugh," said Harry.

"No wonder Malfoy's such a creep," Hermione said.

"Pretty sure that's just him," said Harry. "Put the Cloak back on."

"I still say it should be you wearing it," she said, but shrugged into it and vanished from sight anyway.

"Look, it's my fault we're here in the first place," said Harry. "I'm not letting you take any more risks for my sake than absolutely necessary."

"I know you won't," Hermione said unhappily.

The Manor was at the bottom of a small valley. A high iron fence tipped with scout arrowheads was in their way, forcing them to go fifty yards around to get to the front gate. There was a silver bell and a repeating snake motif.

Harry tried the gate. "Locked," he said.

"The knife?" suggested Hermione.

Harry looked at the gate. "On a Malfoy's property? I'd bet my Firebolt it's warded against that."

"How will we get in, then?"

Harry reached up a tapped the bell with his fingernail. In a bass voice, it aahed the first eight notes of a minor key version of Chimes of Westminster, then stilled. A few seconds later, there was a pop, and a house-elf appeared behind the gate, holding a candle. He looked younger than Dobby; the Malfoys must have found a replacement.

"This is a most inappropriate hour," he said with a sniff.

"I'm a … friend of Draco's," said Harry. "I have to speak to him. It's urgent."

The house-elf frowned but nodded. "Who shall Blat say is calling, sir?"

A voice in Harry's head dared him to say 'My name is Cho Chang'.

"Brenton O'Sullivan," he said at random.

Blat blinked, then narrowed his eyes and raised a hand, fingers poised to snap and unleash house-elf magic.

"Petrificus totalus," said Hermione. There was a flash, and the elf went rigid and fell over backward, dropping his candle. She pushed her hood back and just gave Harry a look.

"Um, thanks," said Harry. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

"Someone the elf doesn't recognise shows up in the early hours and gives a name he's never heard after noticeable hesitation?" she said. "Honestly, I can't believe people thought you were lying when you said you didn't enter the Triwizard Tournament, not when that's your standard."

"You should be glad I didn't say the first thing to come to mind," Harry replied. "Besides, what was I supposed to have said? He probably knows most of Malfoys friends' names and faces, and I bet I'm on a blacklist."

Hermione rolled her eyes, shook her head and turned instead to Blat.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I really am, I know you were only doing your job. I don't hate house-elves, but …"

"Hermione," Harry said. "Our Traces. We don't have much time."

"Try the knife now," she said. "He was about to blast you through the gate, so he must have disabled any spells on it for fear of a misfire."

He slid it in; the lock turned, and the gate swung silently open.

"It's incredible how incautious wizards, and House Elves, are about Invisibility Cloaks," said Hermione, putting her hood back up as they walked up the paved path to the manor. "I can't count how many times you've got past security by being invisible, when the people who set up the security know that these cloaks exist."

"Well, how many precautions have you made against them?" Harry asked. "They're a little hard to block, in case you hadn't noticed."

There were hedges on either side of the path, with occasional gaps that made it look like a maze. Harry was sure he saw a pair of eyes glinting at him from ground level, but didn't break pace. As they reached the front door, it swung open, revealing Narcissa, who wore a nightgown and hair rollers, and Draco Malfoy, in a dimly-lit greeting room. Both had their wands lit and pointed at Harry.

"Potter," Malfoy spat. "I'm going to kill that stupid elf. What are you doing here?"

"I want to talk to your father," said Harry. "Is he in?"

"No," said Malfoy.

"When will he be back?"

"Get off my family's property or I'll curse you."

"Expelliarmus," said Hermione, from somewhere behind Malfoy; his wand flew from his hand and disappeared as she caught it and hid it under the Cloak. The Malfoys spun round in surprise, and Narcissa raised her wand at where Hermione's voice had come.

"Expelliarmus," said Harry, and caught her wand. He walked past the threshold and kicked the door shut.

"So," said Malfoy coolly, glaring at him, "you brought the Mud– Dolohov, with an Invisibility Cloak. What do you want?"

"Granger, actually," Hermione corrected, and her voice came from about ten away from where it had been last time. "And your father, Harry already said."

"Or can you at least tell us where some Death Eater is?" asked Harry. "We're actually looking for Cho Chang, from school; they might not have told either of you about her. We think Lucius would know where she is, but, really, any of the high-ranking ones will do."

"Oh, is she all you want?" Narcissa said. "If you want that trollop, take her and welcome. She's done nothing but eat and complain since she got here."

"She's here?" Hermione asked. From her voice, she was on the far side of the room by now.

"What's this?" Malfoy asked.

His mother shushed him. "Locked in the attic," she said, pointing. "Up the spiral staircase two flights and through the trapdoor. May we have our wands back, now?"

"We'll leave them once we have Cho," Harry said. "Not that I don't trust you but, well. Get back, or I'll Stun you."

"Hmph," said Narcissa, but she backed off and motioned her son to do the same. He obeyed with a scowl.

There came a flurry of distant pops.

"AURORS!" she shouted. "HELP! IN HERE, I'M BEING ROBBED BY –"

"Stupefy," said Harry, and she fell unconscious, and Draco a moment later.

They ran upstairs, Harry using the borrowed wand for light. He didn't get more than glimpses of the Manor, except that it was slathered in green wallpaper and endless silver snake motifs. No wonder Malfoy had wanted to be a Slytherin; the décor would be unbearable for anyone else.

There was a click from downstairs, and the shouting of Aurors, at the same moment Harry got to the top of the spiral stairs. There was a trapdoor above them; Harry pulled out his knife for it.

From downstairs, they could hear Malfoy shouting and his mother's higher voice calmly talking over his; he made out the word 'upstairs'.

"Go on ahead, Harry," said Hermione. "Glisseo." She Summoned a silver candlestick holder, Transfigured it into a mass of ball bearings, and threw them down. Harry nodded and climbed through the wreckage of the trapdoor, leaving her to delay the Aurors.

The attic was about four yards square with a triangular roof three yards high at the highest point, support beams at regular intervals. It looked to be bare wood panelling, although, other than the light from Narcissa's wand, it was dark. At the far end was Cho, dressed in a pristine white tunic and with her hands over her head, lying face down on the floor. Her hair was an inch or two longer than before and rather greasy; her nails were ragged.

"Don't hurt me!" she cried.

"Depilato," he said. The jinx connected, and all her hair fell out, revealing a plain white scalp.

She looked up. "Um?" she said. "Isn't that – Harry? Harry Potter?"

"Yeah," said Harry, "and Hermione. Sorry about that; we've had bad experience with people with hair. I've got a hat in here somewhere; hang on. Accio hat." A pointed witch's hat flew out of his purse and into his hand; he offered it and Narcissa's wand to her. "I'll get you some regrowth potion later."

"I'm sure there's a story behind that," she said, fitting the hat on.

"Yeah, I'm sure there is," he said shortly. "Are you oh – bloody hell."

He finally noticed her right arm. From the palm of her hand, along her forearm and bicep and down past her short sleeve were angry red wounds. Words, cut with a knife. She followed his gaze and brought her arm back, hiding them.

"We'll get that looked at right away, I promise," he said. "But we have to get out of here first."

Cho nodded. "Who's that downstairs? Death Eaters, Aurors?"

"Bad guys," Harry said.

Her hood down, Hermione climbed through the trapdoor and repaired and locked it. "Hello. Can you Apparate?"

"Oh, hello," said Cho. "Badly. But there are wards against that anyway."

"Okay," said Hermione. "We have a Portkey. Actually we have four, between us."

"I think there are wards against those too," said Cho. "I've overheard a few conversations, and they've talked about security once or twice."

Harry and Hermione exchanged glances.

"I didn't know you could ward against Portkeys," he said. "Do we have a backup backup plan?"

"We could go out through a window," she suggested. "There are some downstairs."

"Past the troop of Aurors?" he replied.

There came a muffled eeeeee and a crash.

"The troop of angry Aurors?" he amended.

"Through the roof, then," said Hermione. "Evanesco struts."

They were quite a lot bigger than what they had practised on last year in Transfiguration, but she still managed to Vanish bits of the support beams on the far side of the attic. The heavy slate roof promptly fell in, revealing the sky and throwing up a cloud of dust.

They raised their shirts over their mouths and squinted against the dust. Harry summoned his Firebolt again.

"Cho, could you get in here, please?" asked Hermione, holding out her bag.

Cho stared at it; it was only six inches across. "I can't tell you how much I doubt that," she said.

"Oh, never mind," said Hermione, and climbed in herself.

"?" asked Cho, pointing.

Harry took the bag and placed it around his neck. "It's a racing broom; it isn't great with one passenger, let alone two," he explained, and mounted the broom. "Come on."

Cho sat and wrapped her arms around him. "I meant, how did she fit in there?"

"Magic," Harry explained, and kicked off.

Cho half-turned and threw a spell at the attic; it burst into flames as the Aurors forced their way through the trapdoor.

He accelerated away, touching down a few hundred yards from the manor. He tapped Hermione's bag; she climbed out, slipped, and fell to the ground in a heap.

"Sorry," he said, giving her his hand.

"Are we clear?" she asked, then turned to the manor. Cho's fire had spread quickly. "Oh."

"They have magic; they can deal with it," Harry dismissed.

"Speaking of which," said Cho, swishing Narcissa's wand and eliciting a weak fft and a few sparks, "you don't have my wand, would you? This one isn't a very good fit for me."

"No such luck," said Harry. "The Flamels have it, assuming they didn't destroy it six months ago. Try this one." He handed over Draco's wand and pointed his own into his purse. "Accio bread knife." One of the Hogwarts knives zoomed out and into his hand.

"The first one's better," said Cho, giving Draco's wand a few desultory flicks before handing it back. Harry put it into a pocket. He might give it back to Malfoy later. Someday.

"Wait a moment," said Hermione, rooting around in her bag, "Cho's clothes might have some sort of tracking spell on them. Harry, turn around. Interex."

"Shame I can't keep it," said Cho, "it's spelled to stay clean. They wanted something extra-visible in case I ever tried to escape."

"How thoughtful of them," Hermione replied.

When he turned back, Cho was dressed in one of Hermione's robes and checking herself over. Hermione discarded the Switched tunic and hit it with a Blasting Charm for good measure.

"Hmm, I forgot to bring socks and shoes," Hermione said. "Sorry; I'll lend you some when we get back to Hogwarts."

"That's not all you forgot," Cho said, adjusting the upper part.

Harry held out both arms; Hermione took his right. Cho took his left, after a moment's hesitation.

"Lights out and no magic," said Hermione. "The Ministry doesn't know about this rendezvous yet."

"Trigger knife Portkey." said Harry.