FIC: Inevitable 67: Cheating Death

[mhalachai]

Yay! Done!

Inevitable Sixty-Seven: Cheating Death
by Mhalachai
Disclaimer: Laurell K. Hamilton owns all things Anita Blake. J.K. Rowling owns all things Harry Potter. Only the story is my own.
Note: The usual notes: This story is AU to Half-Blood Prince but maintains aspects of that story, big time in this chapter. 9,193 words. Also, ow my brain.

Previous parts here.

~~~~~~~

When he saw Dumbledore at the teacher's table at breakfast the next day, chatting with McGonagall like everything was fine, Harry almost had a heart attack.

Somehow, he stumbled to the Gryffindor table and sat down without falling face-first in the jam. He'd been up for most of the night reading Dumbledore's notes, and was nowhere closer to knowing what had gone wrong with the Horcrux locket spell.

How could Dumbledore have gotten better so fast? Harry wondered, trying to be unobtrusive in his examination of the headmaster. He almost died yesterday, there was no way he could have healed overnight!

"Harry!"

Harry jumped, knocked his legs on the underside of the table and fell back cursing. "What's your problem, Ron?" he demanded as he rubbed his knee.

Ron dropped to the bench at Harry's side. "What's my problem? You didn't come back to the dorms last night, and we couldn't find you!"

Pulling slices of toast onto his plate, Harry concentrated very hard on not screaming at his friend. He'd only had an hour of sleep, when he passed out over the notes in the dark of night. Whatever Ron's problem was, Harry didn't care.

"I needed to talk to you!" Ron continued quietly, bending in closer and plucking at Harry's sleeve. Harry jerked back.

"I was sort of busy," Harry snapped. He bit into his makeshift bacon sandwich, wishing it was steak and almost raw, not this salty tough pork. "Whatever it was is going to have to wait!"

Ron sat back, glaring at Harry. "That so?" he said. "And if I said it wasn't about me, if it was about Ginny, then would you listen?"

Whatever Harry would have answered was lost as Dumbledore got to his feet, saying a few last words to McGonagall. Quickly, Harry shoved the rest of his sandwich in his mouth and clambered up off the bench. Dumbledore moved very quickly for an injured old man, nimbly making it out of the hall before Harry could catch him.

Once Harry cleared the doors, he broke into a run, thanking his lucky stars that Monday morning breakfast was the least attended meal of the week. "Sir?" Harry called as Dumbledore disappeared around a corner up ahead. "Sir!"

Harry put on an extra burst of speed, careening around the corner and almost slamming into Dumbledore.

"Sir!" Harry said, stumbling against the wall. "What's going on?"

Dumbledore smiled at Harry benignly. "In what way, Mr. Potter?"

The hairs on the back of Harry's neck stood up. Dumbledore hadn't called him Mr. Potter in years, not when they were alone. He sure as hell wouldn't do it after what happened the day before, in the Horcrux cavern.

Who would dare to impersonate Dumbledore? McGonagall would know-- Harry gave his head an imaginary shake. Of course McGonagall knew, she probably set the whole thing up... but why?

Harry breathed in deeply to steady himself, and caught a familiar scent. Not the thick green smell he associated with polyjuice, but something more bitter, more alive, more... girlish.

"You know, Tonks, Dumbledore doesn't call me 'Mr. Potter' anymore," Harry said coldly.

The Dumbledore standing in front of him crooked an eyebrow up. "Harry, then," Tonks said, not denying what Harry said. "Professor McGonagall was very busy this morning."

"Crash course," Harry said, fuming and feeling oddly betrayed. He'd saved Dumbledore's life yesterday, and they didn't even tell him they were going to pull this shit!

Tonks nodded, turning down the hall. "I think it best if we were to continue," she said quietly. "If Dumbledore is talking with Harry Potter, there is nothing to suspect, but if Harry Potter is berating Dumbledore..."

"You could just give me detention," Harry grumbled.

"I'm thinking about it." They walked along the corridor, Tonks nodding to the occasional passing student. Luckily, no one wanted to bother the headmaster. "How did you know?"

Harry stared straight ahead, his hastily swallowed breakfast feeling like lead in his gut. "Yesterday, with Dumbledore, it was... bad. Too bad to be fixed over night."

"So Professor McGonagall told me." Together, they headed down an empty corridor along the outside wall of the school.

Harry gave Tonks a sidelong look. "You didn't see... him?"

Tonks shook her head, her silver beard waggling. Maybe it was the light, or a bad transformation, but her skin was starting to look almost grey. "All of this," she indicated her Dumbledore robes, "was set in place months ago, in case of an emergency."

Harry clenched his fists, trying to stay calm. "You people--" He stopped talking and focused on breathing. Standing so close to Tonks, he drew in her scent underlying the Dumbledore smell of the robes, and that odd bitter smell again. "You asked how I knew; it wasn't just yesterday. You should stay away from Reece Trevelyan, from Hufflepuff. You don't smell like Dumbledore."

Tonks stopped mid-step. "You can smell that well already? The first full moon isn't for weeks yet."

Harry leaned up against the wall, the faint edge of exhaustion dragging at his brain. "It's complicated. I was going to tell Remus when I saw him, but he's... fuck, I don't even know where he is or when I'm going to see him."

"Language, Mr. Potter," Tonks warned, earning her a glare. "Remus's location--"

"I know, undercover," Harry muttered. "But... if you see him, can you tell him I need to talk to him? It's not as clean-cut as you think. It's really, really complicated."

Tonks leaned back against the wall on the other side of the corridor, the light coming in the windows casting strange shadows on her lined face. "I'll tell him." Her face contorted in pain and she almost doubled over.

"Tonks?" Harry said, pushing off the wall.

She tried to straighten up, but then another convulsion hit her, and she fell to her knees. "I don't know what--" She broke off with a gasp, her voice changing. Under Dumbledore's blue and silver robes, Tonks's body began to shift to other forms, not settling on any. "Something's... wrong." She clenched her mouth shut, trying to stifle a shriek.

"What's wrong?" Harry demanded, dropped to his knees beside her. Her forehead was burning up and clammy at the same time, her sweat smelling bitter. "Are you allergic to--"

"Stupid," Tonks gasped, back arching up as her body stopped shifting. It took Harry a second to realize that she wasn't talking about him. "Tea tasted... strange..."

Terror exploded in Harry's head. "No, this isn't going to happen!" he said quickly, pulling out his wand. He'd summon help, he had to, even in this corridor without any portraits and not a single soul in earshot. Why had they gone down here again? Was privacy really that important?

"Harry?"

Harry swung his head around, wand aimed at Ron and Ginny, who were running toward him. He lowered his wand instantly. "You have to get help!" he exclaimed, as Tonks fell onto her back, fingers scrabbling at the ground. "Someone poisoned her, I don't know--" his voice broke. "Go get help!"

Ginny didn't hesitate. She pulled her schoolbag off her shoulder and dumped it to the ground. "Gin, what are you doing?" Ron shouted. "You run faster'n me, go get a teacher!"

"Shut up!" Ginny screeched, tearing through the bag and emerging with something clenched in her fist. "Open her mouth, now!"

Not stopping to question why they were listening to her, Ron grabbed Tonks's shoulders while Harry tried to pry the Auror's jaw apart. A convulsion shuddered through her body and her teeth clamped down into Harry's hand, almost biting his thumb off, but he got her mouth open.

Ginny darted in and shoved a small object into Tonks's mouth, using her finger to push it down her throat. The convulsions stopped almost instantly, and her breathing eased.

Harry let go of Tonks's head, cradling his bleeding hand against his chest. He looked at Ron, wide-eyed. "Ginny, what was that?" Ron demanded.

"A bezoar," Ginny said in a whisper. "It's supposed to stop most poisons."

At that second, Harry didn't care how Ginny knew that, or why she was carrying one around. All he knew was that she'd saved Tonks's life. He leaned over and gave her a big hug, then quickly let her go. "Come on, we need to get Tonks to the infirmary, in case there's something else wrong," he said.

Tonks gasped something in between raspy breaths. Ron, who was the closest to her, frowned. "Robes?"

"She's in Dumbledore's robes," Harry said, picking up his wand and transfiguring Tonks's robes to an anonymous black. "She almost dies and she's worried about her robes." He put his wand away and moved to beside the prone Auror. "Always on the job." That got him a tiny hint of a smile as he lifted her into his arms and stood up.

"Harry, you--"

"I've got her," Harry said, setting off toward the infirmary.

Ron shook his head. "I'll go on ahead," he said, running off before Harry could respond.

Ginny tagged along at Harry's side, staring at Tonks, who was passing in and out of consciousness. "Why was she being Dumbledore?" Ginny asked.

Harry had to concentrate on not tripping, and didn't respond for a minute. He'd never carried anyone like this, and while Tonks was a small woman, she was an adult and carrying her was extraordinarily awkward. "Long story."

There was no time left for conversation.

~*~

Madam Pomfrey met them in the hallway outside the infirmary, Ron out of breath beside her. "What happened?" she demanded, running her wand over Tonks.

"I went to talk to her after breakfast," Harry said, maneuvering Tonks and all her limbs through the infirmary doors without hitting anything. "She smelled bitter and she said her tea tasted strange." He reached the bed that Madam Pomfrey indicated, and heaved Tonks onto the surface with a little less grace than he'd have liked. He was strong, but she wasn't a feather. "She was looking like Dumbledore, and then she started shifting like crazy to all kinds of other people, then she looked like this."

"Her natural form," Madam Pomfrey muttered. "Mr. Weasley said that Miss Weasley administered a bezoar?"

Beside Harry, Ginny nodded. "I-- We-- In Potions class..."

"Well done," Madam Pomfrey interrupted. "You probably saved her life." Tonks's eyes fluttered open.

"Is she going to be all right?" Harry demanded. "She has to be all right!"

"Mr. Potter, move!" Madam Pomfrey ordered.

Tonks arched up on the bed, her hands scrabbling at the sheets. Ginny screamed as Harry lunged forward, catching Tonks before she pitched off the bed.

"What is going on?" McGonagall asked, running down the infirmary. "Poppy--"

"Is Severus back yet?" Madam Pomfrey demanded, trying to pour a potion down Tonks's throat. The Auror's convulsions slowed, but her breathing was laboured, her skin grey and going cold under Harry's hands.

"Come on, Tonks, it's going to be okay," Harry said, gripping her hand tight. Her fevered eyes focused on his face for only a moment, but it was enough. "You've fought off Death Eaters and all kinds of bad wizards, you can't even think about letting a bad cup of tea take you down."

Tonks let out a hiccoughing laugh, that changed to shivers as her eyes pinched closed in pain. "Not a... chance," she breathed.

"Good." Harry squeezed her hand while he pushed her straggly black hair off her forehead. He wished Remus was here for Tonks; he wished Sirius was there for both of them. Madam Pomfrey appeared at the bedside once again, another potion in her hand. "Why is this happened?" he asked. "A bezoar's supposed to be an antidote, right?"

Madam Pomfrey helped Tonks swallow the bright blue potion. "The bezoar works on most potions, not all," she said as she put the vial on the bedside table.

"Potter," McGonagall called, "We need to leave Madam Pomfrey to her work."

Harry glanced away from Tonks. McGonagall stood by Ron, who had his arm around Ginny's shoulders. Just as quickly, Harry looked back down. "I'm not leaving."

"Potter--"

"The bezoar's not working," he said. Tonks gripped his hand tighter, a shuddering running down her body. "She shouldn't be alone."

McGonagall was silent. Harry waited, body taught, for the command to leave.

"We'll be in my office, if anything changes," McGonagall said.

Ron's muttering voice, and Ginny's quiet replies, soon faded as McGonagall herded them out of the infirmary. Once they were gone, Harry summoned over a stool and took a seat by Tonks's bed. The second potion Madam Pomfrey had given her seemed to have helped a bit. Her skin was still grey and cold, but the spasms had stopped, her breathing less laboured.

She kept her eyes closed, breathing hard. Harry sat, waiting for... he wasn't sure what he was waiting for. He hated feeling so useless, unable to help. It was exactly like with Dumbledore the previous day, waiting and not being able to help a damned bit.

Madam Pomfrey came back to Tonks several times, checking her pupils and her pulse and other things, then rushed back to her office. There probably weren't too many intentional poisonings at the school, Harry thought morosely, watching the matron go.

After about half an hour, Tonks curled up into a ball, crying out in pain. Harry shouted for Madam Pomfrey and summoned a pail to the bedside just in time. Tonks vomited into the pail for a very long time, until she was dry-heaving and crying at the same time. Madam Pomfrey helped the trembling Auror sit back on the bed, passing a cleaning spell over her.

"I'm going to put this under your tongue," Madam Pomfrey instructed, carefully slipping a small lozenge into Tonks's mouth.

"Is that it? Is the poison gone?" Harry demanded.

Madam Pomfrey's hesitation gave him the answer before she even spoke. "We cannot be sure, at this time," she said.

"But why not?"

"We can't even be sure how she was poisoned in the first place."

"She said it was the tea, remember? Someone put something in her tea!"

"Mr. Potter, please lower your voice." Madam Pomfrey cast a look at Tonks, who seemed to have taken a turn for the worse. "She drank from the same teapot as Professor McGonagall and the other teachers. The chance that anyone could have put something in her cup in the Hall, without being seen, is incredibly small."

"Well, it had to happen somehow," Harry snapped softly.

Tonks mumbled from the bed. Harry hadn't heard what she said, but Madam Pomfrey shook her head. "I can't let you have any water until we know what is poisoning you," she said. "I'm sorry." As an aside to Harry, she said, "Call me if anything changes."

"I will," Harry said, going back to his seat. The echo of Madam Pomfrey's footsteps faded down the infirmary. Harry tried to give Tonks a confident smile, but it felt sort of watery. "Hey."

Tonks blinked. "Do me a favour?" she asked, slurring her words badly.

"Anything," Harry said quickly. "Anything you like."

"If I don't..." She coughed a few times. "If I don't make it out of this, you tell Remus that I--"

"Don't talk like that," Harry interrupted. "You'll be fine!"

Breathing hard, Tonks said, "They can't find Snape."

"Who cares? What about Slughorn? He's a potions master too! Why not him?"

"It's... complicated." A look of pain passed over her face. "Just tell Remus that I was sorry, okay?"

Harry wanted to scream at her to stop this, but he swallowed that impulse and nodded. "I'll tell him. Is... is there anything else?"

Tonks nodded, for the first time starting to look a little scared. "Mum and dad." She had to stop to catch her breath. "Tell them... I was just doing my best, you know?"

"I'll tell them that too," Harry promised.

Tonks let out a pain-filled moan. "Hurts," she moaned from behind clenched teeth.

Harry stared at Tonks, the strong and confident Auror reduced to tears of agony on the cold infirmary bed, and swore to himself that he'd find who had done this. If Tonks died, he was going to kill whoever murdered her.

The air currents changed in the room. Harry looked up as Snape slammed through the doors at the end of the infirmary, black robes billowing around him as he ran, and for the first time in his whole life, Harry was actually glad to see Snape.

"Move!" Snape shouted to Harry. The feeling of joy vanished. "Get out of my way, you stupid boy!"

"Why--"

"Mr. Potter, do as he says," Madam Pomfrey said, rushing over. "We have work to do and you cannot get in the way."

"But Tonks--" Harry tried to argue as Madam Pomfrey pulled him away from Tonks's bedside.

"She will live," Snape said shortly. "Out!"

Madam Pomfrey gave Harry a push, and he stumbled back. Please let Snape know what he's doing, Harry thought. Tonks can't die.

Somehow, Harry made it out of the infirmary and found the stairs to McGonagall's office. The world was fuzzy and loud, and more than anything, Harry wanted to shift to his Animagus wolf form and curl up into a ball to sleep, but that was out of the question. He had to go to McGonagall's office, and then he had a poisoner to find.

At McGonagall's office, Harry didn't bother to knock. He pushed open the door, startling the group, which had grown to include Hermione and Luna.

McGonagall rose to her feet. "Potter?"

"Snape's back," Harry said. "He said Tonks'll be okay."

Ron dropped his head into his hands and groaned. Hermione touched his shoulder as she said, "Really? Did he say that?"

Harry nodded, distracted as McGonagall gathered herself up. "You five can stay here until your next class begins," she said, abruptly sweeping out of the room.

Luna walked to the door and pushed it behind McGonagall. "We met Ginny and Ron on the stairs, with McGonagall," she said as she walked back to Harry. "Are you okay? You look awful. "

"Thanks," Harry muttered. "I'm not all right. None of this," he gestured emphatically with his arm, "Is all right! If Ginny didn't have that bezoar, Tonks would be dead!"

"Shut up." Ginny, in the corner by the window, turned her face away from the group.

Ron looked up. "Ginny, you saved Tonks's life! Why should Harry shut up about it?"

Ginny shook her head. "You don't understand," she said bitterly.

"Don't understand what?" Harry demanded. "Madam Pomfrey said that Tonks would have died if you hadn't shoved that bezoar down her throat!"

"You don't understand!" Ginny repeated, whipping her head around to glare at Harry. "I was cheating!"

"How the bloody hell could you have been cheating?" Ron shouted. "This wasn't a test, it was a friend of ours with her life in danger!" He got to his feet and moved across the room to his sister.

Ginny focused all of her angry attention on her brother. "You don't understand anything, you bloody idiot! I was cheating in potions class!" She gulped down a hasty breath. "We were supposed to make an antidote and I had no idea what I was doing and I read in my potions book, someone had scribbled in a note in the potions chapter to use a bezoar, so I went and got one from the potion stores but forgot to put it back after class!"

"That's not cheating, that's an antidote!" Ron yelled at her.

"I almost didn't do it!" Ginny pulled up, horrified. "I almost told Slughorn I didn't know, 'cause I knew I shouldn't cheat." Her hands began trembling. "I did it because it was easier, and if I'd done things the right way Tonks would be dead and it'd be all my fault."

Luna crossed the floor to where Ginny was standing. "Sit down," Luna said, touching Ginny's hand. Ginny jerked away, a small action, but Luna froze in place.

Harry barely had time to wonder what was going on when Ginny took a deep breath and reached out for Luna's hand. She wrapped her fingers around Luna's palm, and squeezed. "Sitting down is all I seem to be doing today," she said.

Luna looked so relieved, Harry thought she might cry. "Except when you're saving people's lives."

"Luna's right," Harry said. Ginny didn't look up at him as she let Luna push her into Ron's abandoned chair. "You saved Tonks's life, who cares if you cheated in class?"

"I still say it's not cheating," Ron grumbled. He leaned back against McGonagall's desk. "Why would anyone want to poison Tonks?"

"I have no idea," Harry admitted. He pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, wishing his vision wasn't so fuzzy. "She said her tea tasted strange, but all the teachers drank from the same pot."

"Does it have anything to do with where you were last night?" Hermione asked. Harry blinked at her, wondering why she was so in-focus with his glasses off. "Do you know why Tonks was impersonating Dumbledore? Where is Dumbledore?"

Harry looked down at his glasses, clenched in his fist. He took a deep breath, then pulled out his wand and cast a silencing charm on the door. "What I'm about to tell you cannot, under any circumstances, leave this room," he said as he shoved his glasses into his pocket.

"All right," Hermione said dubiously.

"No, I'm serious!" Harry exclaimed. "Not to anyone, not even the Order members!"

Hermione was beginning to look frightened. "What's happened?"

Harry tried to organize his thoughts into something a little more coherent than the mess in his head. "First off, Tonks was pretending to be Dumbledore this morning because yesterday, something happened to Dumbledore. He's hidden in the infirmary and Madam Pomfrey thinks he'll be okay in a while."

"How bad is he?" Ron demanded. "What happened?"

The memory of Dumbledore's injury flashed in Harry's head, but he pushed it away. He didn't have time to fall apart. "He's pretty bad. McGonagall told me yesterday I couldn't tell anyone, in case it would endanger the school, if people knew he was hurt."

"So why are you telling us?" Luna asked.

Ron waved his hand. "We don't count."

"Actually I think she meant you guys too, but I don't care." Harry ran his thumb over the edge of the table beside him, needing to touch something. "I guess they wanted to have a fake Dumbledore around in case anyone heard any rumors."

"Then we're looking for someone who was trying to poison Dumbledore," Hermione said decisively. "But why would this person chose this morning, of all times?"

"Are they always like this?" Luna muttered to Ginny.

Ginny nodded. "It's really rather annoying."

Harry's tired mind knew there was something he was missing, some connection he should be making, but what?.

"Shouldn't we know how the poison was administered?" Hermione was saying. "That could tell us a lot of why--"

"Snape!" Harry exclaimed. Everyone turned to look at him. "That's it! He was gone from the school yesterday and this morning! Both Madam Pomfrey and Tonks said that they needed Snape to find out what Tonks was poisoned with! If he hadn't gotten back in time, Tonks would probably be dead!" And Snape was gone because Dumbledore wanted him out of the way in case something happened with the Horcruxes... was it just luck that this happened today?

"Who knew Professor Snape was gone?" Luna asked. "He didn't have office hours on Sunday, and he sometimes skips meals for days at a time. So many students wouldn't have known."

"We don't know it was a student," Hermione argued. "What student would dare to poison Professor Dumbledore?"

"What adult would it be?" Luna asked. "A teacher or an Auror wouldn't have needed to poison Dumbledore in the Great Hall over breakfast, they could have done it other times."

"Can we get back to what happened to Dumbledore yesterday?" Ron interrupted. "It might mean something." He looked expectantly at Harry.

"Right." Harry hesitated for only a moment before fumbling around in his robes for the tight roll of parchment, Dumbledore's Horcrux notes. He held them out. "Remember how I told you about the Horcruxes?"

Luna broke the resulting silence. "What's a Horcrux?"

~*~

Explaining to Luna about the Horcruxes took surprisingly little time. She blinked once and said, "That explains a lot."

"Right." Harry tossed the roll of parchment to Hermione. "So, Dumbledore wanted to meet with me to teach me to destroy the Horcruxes. Like I said, the diary and the ring are already broken, and we've got the locket, that's what hurt Dumbledore. It was like, booby-trapped or something, and the spell that's in there," he indicated the parchment, "backfired on Dumbledore."

Hermione unrolled the parchment and began to read. Ginny glanced at Hermione, then back at Harry. "Three out of seven isn't exactly an inspiring number."

"Four, actually. Dumbledore is pretty sure the fourth Horcrux is in a golden cup that used to belong to Helga Hufflepuff. The woman who owned the locket had the cup, too. Voldemort murdered her and stole the locket and cup both."

"Don't suppose Dumbledore knows where the cup is?" Ron asked from Hermione's side.

"Not that he told me."

"Of course."

"Ron," Hermione chided.

"What? This is crazy! Dumbledore says he wants Harry's help and then doesn't tell him anything!"

"He gave Harry his spell notes!" Hermione countered.

Harry felt his face go red. "Actually, he, um, doesn't know I have these."

Hermione shot him a glare. "You mean you stole them?"

"Borrowed," Harry said, standing up straight. "Oh, don't give me that look! Voldemort probably looking for the Horcruxes at this very moment! Dumbledore's injured, and we have no idea what's going to come at us next! This whole year is insane! Tonks getting poisoned, Reece--" Harry choked on his words. "Oh fuck!"

"What now?" Ginny asked.

Harry bit back a few choice curses for Dumbledore. "Tonks was poisoned because someone thought she was Dumbledore, right? Well, back when someone let Reece out of his cage on the night of the full moon, we didn't know why anyone would do it! I said something about looking at who was supposed to be out in the corridors that night, as someone that might have done it, but what if that wasn't it?"

"Harry, you're not making any sense," Hermione said.

"I know! What if it's the same person, who hurt Reece and let him out, and who poisoned Tonks?" He looked around expectantly, but only saw blank faces. "Dumbledore was in the corridors that night, what if whoever it was let him out to try and kill Dumbledore?"

"Are you talking about that first year Hufflepuff?" Luna asked. "Why would anyone put him in a cage?"

"He's a werewolf," Harry said quickly. "But back to my idea, it's not a good one, I know, but it makes sense!"

Luna looked at him, one eyebrow arched. "Is there anything else I should know?" she asked. In spite of her words, there was no accusing in her tone.

Harry looked at Ron, then Hermione. "You may as well show them," Ron said.

"Show us what?" Ginny demanded.

Before he could wonder if this was a bad idea, Harry shifted to his Animagus form. Ginny jumped up and let out an outraged squeal. "When did you become an Animagus?" she demanded. "Why didn't you tell us you were doing it?"

"He started practicing in September," Ron answered for Harry. "Something about being clawed up by a werewolf but not changing, in St. Louis. Yeah, it didn't make much sense to me, either," he added at his sister's glare.

"Dumbledore gave him a book to practice on," Hermione said. "He gave it to us, if you want to see."

Carefully, Luna approached Harry. He sat, nose in the air, tail waving back and forth on the floor as Luna stretched out her hand to touch him. "Do you like being an Animagus?" she asked, running her hand down his head.

Right at that moment, her touch was wonderful. Harry tossed his head in an approximation of a nod and yipped. Luna smiled as Harry budged closer to her, pressing his head against her hip.

Harry noticed that Ginny was watching at them with sad eyes. He whined softly, making Luna turn around. She held out her hand to Ginny. "Come feel this, his fur's really soft."

Looking as if she was about to face one of Hagrid's beasts, Ginny took the three steps to Luna and Harry. She reached out to touch Harry's head, then her hand ran down his neck to his back as she knelt next to him.

Up close like this, Harry could smell tears on Ginny's skin, even though her eyes were dry. How many tears had she shed that day? He whined again, a tiny sad sound in his throat. Ginny must have understood what he was trying to say, because she put her arm over his back and hugged him tight.

Pressed between Luna and Ginny like this was the closest he'd come to true comfort in weeks, and Harry took a moment to close his eyes and enjoy it.

"Perhaps we should think about what we're going to do next," Hermione said hesitantly. Harry opened his eyes to find her kneeling in front of him.

"You mean find who poisoned Tonks?" Ron asked.

Hermione shook her head. "I mean the Horcruxes."

Harry growled.

"Don't be like that," Hermione said. "We don't know if they're connected, the Horcruxes and the poisoning."

Harry tossed his head, baring his fangs.

"Fine, or letting Reece out of his cage," Hermione added, exasperation audible in her voice. "I say we have to concentrate on figuring out a way to destroy the Horcruxes, to stop Voldemort."

Harry transformed back to his human form. "And find the other four," he added. It was only after he spoke that he realized he still had his cheek pressed against Luna's hip. "Sorry," he said, pulling away quickly.

Surprisingly, Ginny didn't move away from him as fast as he thought she would. Giving him one last squeeze, she sat back on her heels. "There's five of us, what's to say we can't do both?" she asked.

"Ginny--"

"Don't you start that again," Ginny cut Harry off. "We've been through this. I know the Horcruxes, after all, I was possessed by one in second year, right?"

"I was going to say you were right," Harry finished his sentence. She looked only slightly mollified. "But finding the poisoner is the most important thing, right now."

"I disagree," Hermione said.

"I'm with Hermione," Ginny added. "We have to stop Voldemort. The teachers know something's up, they'll keep an eye on Dumbledore."

Ron was shaking his head. "We're talking about someone who tried to poison the Headmaster during breakfast, it's either brilliance or sheer desperation, and I'm thinking it's not brilliance."

Harry stood up in a fluid motion. "Why don't Ron and me go try to find out more about what happened to Tonks, while you girls look into the Horcruxes?"

"Us girls?" Ginny said sharply.

Harry fought not to wince. "That came out wrong," he said in a hurry. "I mean that Ron and I are utter pants at homework and figuring things out from a book." Ginny looked unconvinced. "I was staring at that thing all night, Ginny! I have no idea what it means! Other than that Dumbledore's crazy."

"We knew that," Ron muttered. "Are we going to stand here all day talking about this, or are we going to go do something?"

"Go do something," Hermione ordered. She held up the parchment. "We'll look at this. Meet in the library at lunch?"

Even though he was so exhausted he wanted to cry, Harry managed to nod. "See you there." He gave Luna and Ginny a quick smile, then dragged Ron out of McGonagall's office, removing the silencing spell as he walked through the door.

Harry was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't hear Ron's question. "Sorry, what?"

"I said, where are we going?" Ron repeated. "Do you have anything in mind, or were you just talking back there?"

Harry glanced behind him to make sure they were alone. "I do have something in mind. Something I didn't want Hermione with us for."

Ron's groan was drowned out as they clattered down the stairs. "Where are we going?"

"The kitchens," Harry said grimly as he pulled his glasses out of his robes and slid them onto his face. "There has to be a reason that the entire teaching staff wasn't poisoned this morning, and I'm willing to bet it wasn't luck."

~*~

The Hogwarts house elves were in a total tizzy when Harry and Ron popped into the kitchens. One small body detached itself from the chaos and flung itself at Harry's feet. Big tears ran down Dobby's cheeks. "Is Harry Potter coming to tell us of bad news?" Dobby demanded.

"Huh? Of course not!" Harry exclaimed.

Dobby jumped up and embraced Harry's knees. "Oh, Harry Potter brings good news!"

Ron was trying very hard not to laugh. "Yeah, Harry, tell them."

Harry gave Ron a very dirty look. "Tonks is going to be fine," Harry told Dobby. "She's fine." He removed Dobby from his knees. "Dobby, I need to ask you a question about this morning."

Dobby wiped his eyes on an ugly yellow sock that he had wrapped around his waist as a belt. "Dobby is answering all of Harry Potter's questions!"

"Right." Presented with such an opportunity, Harry's mind went blank. Poison, he had to remind himself. We need to find out about the poison. "Dobby, do you know anything about what happened this morning?"

Dobby's ears drooped alarmingly. "Professor McGonagall did coming to see the house elves and asking us questions, but we did not knows!"

Ron awkwardly went down on one knee to talk to the small creature. "Hey, Dobby? What about if someone knew something, but didn't answer?"

Looking as shocked as Harry had ever seen him, Dobby shook his head so hard his knobby hat fell off. "We is house elves!" he exclaimed, pulling himself to his full height. "House elves is loyal to their family in all things! At Hogwarts, all house elves is loyal to the school! If a professor asks, we is telling!"

Harry swore under his breath. So much for an easy answer in the kitchens. "All of you?" he asked desperately. "What if something happened, a tiny detail, that someone may have missed?"

"No, Harry Potter," Dobby said, the very picture of regret. "There ma--" The house elf froze mid-word, his green eyes as large as tennis balls. If the situation hadn't been so serious, it might have been rather comical. "Harry Potter!" Dobby's squeaky voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. "There is one house elf in Hogwarts that is not being bound to the school!"

"Hey, now we're on to something," Ron said, inching forward. "But why would Dumbledore use a house elf that belongs to someone else?"

"Let's find out," Harry said grimly, feeling as if he had just been kicked in the gut. Why hadn't he thought of it before? "Kreacher!"

A small, muttering house elf reluctantly detached itself from the swarming mass of house elves and staggered sideways across the room to Harry. "...is interrupting, is a bad, nasty master boy," Kreacher was saying.

When the elf was close enough, Harry's hand darted out and grabbed Kreacher's tea towel toga to drag him over. "What have you been doing, Kreacher?" Harry demanded, dropping the elf to the ground.

Kreacher didn't bother to get up. "Mean and nasty, the blood traitor, like the rest."

"You're not answering me, Kreacher," Harry said. All the anger he had at Kreacher mixed with the panic and fear that Tonks's near-death experience had created. He wanted to reach out and hit Kreacher, or maybe shift into his Animagus wolf and bite the wretched house elf in half.

"Harry." Ron's voice, flat and steady, pulled Harry out of it. "Let's do this right, no messing it up."

Harry breathed in deeply. Ron was right, his anger couldn't be more important than finding out what happened to Tonks. Since Harry had inherited Kreacher from Sirius after his godfather's death, Harry was the only one who could order Kreacher to respond. "I've got some questions for you, Kreacher."

Kreacher resisted, but had to reply honestly to Harry's questions. After a great deal of arguing and screaming from Kreacher, Harry and Ron learned that it had been Kreacher who had set the Headmaster's dishes that morning, including a very special cup that someone had brought to Kreacher for just that purpose. The house elf was adamant that he hadn't seen the person's face, or recognized them, or heard their name.

The interview left Harry frustrated beyond belief. His earlier impulse to bite Kreacher in half was looking more and more attractive. Finally, Harry had heard enough. "Come on, Ron, let's get out of here," he said.

"Okay," Ron said, looking as disgusted as Harry felt. "What are we going to do with him?" He pointed at Kreacher, who was glaring up at Harry with an expression of the utmost loathing on his face.

Harry had a few choice ideas, but knew those were motivated by his anger and emotions. Finding out who poisoned Tonks would be done by listening to his head, not his heart. "I've got an order for you, Kreacher," Harry said evenly. Kreacher squirmed and tried to cover his ears. "You are to only accept orders from me, not random people in this school, and I order you to not harm anyone in this school, do you understand?"

"Yes," Kreacher whined, stamping his feet. "Listen only to the nasty blood-traitor master, only he."

Harry stormed out of the kitchens before he could say anything stupid. Dimly, he registered that Ron was at his side. Once they were back on the main floor, Harry stopped by a window and stared out at the grounds. "I can't shake the feeling that this is my fault," he muttered.

Ron hopped up on the windowsill. "The 'Tonks getting poisoned' part, or the 'saving Tonks's life' part?"

"What?"

"On the one hand, if you and Dumbledore hadn't brought Kreacher to the school here, he wouldn't have put that poisoned cup at the Headmaster's place today. On the other, if you hadn't followed Tonks this morning, me and Ginny wouldn't have followed you, and Tonks would have died." Ron peered out the window. "Doesn't seem to be much point in angry at yourself for risking Tonks's life if you're not going to remember that you saved her life, too."

"Ginny saved Tonks's life," Harry muttered. He really didn't want to talk about this, not when Ron was being all smart and observant.

Ron punched Harry in the shoulder. "What happened yesterday, with D-- I mean, with that teacher upstairs? Did you save his life too?"

Harry flushed. "That is totally a different thing, I was the only one there!"

"Who cares? You still did it, right?" Ron asked as he hopped off the windowsill.

"You don't understand anything!" Harry said, trying not to shout. "I did what I had to do, I couldn't let him die!"

"Like you couldn't let Tonks die, or let Reece run around the school in case he ate Hermione, or let Ginny die in the Chamber of Secrets or any of that?" Ron gave Harry a shove, making him stumble back. "When are you going to stop being such a prat about what you do?"

Even though Ron had several inches and quite a few pounds on Harry, that didn't stop Harry from giving his friend a mighty push into the wall. "I'm not doing anything!" he exclaimed. "I don't want to be doing this, but it keeps following me around! Ever think that maybe I'm the reason this is all happening?"

"Well, well, well," a cultured voice drawled above them. Harry and Ron sprang apart to see Blaise Zabini on the nearby staircase, looking rightly amused. "Lover's quarrel?"

"Why does all of Slytherin have gay sex on the brain?" Ron asked sideways to Harry. "First Malfoy, then Zabini..."

"A very good question," Harry said as he glared up at the Head Boy.

"As much as I hate to interrupt you two beating each other up, I think this warrants five points from Gryffindor for fighting," Zabini said, his sardonic smile gleaming. "That feels good. I'll have to do it again sometime." He whirled and stalked up the stairs.

"Prat," Ron muttered. "I can't see why Dumbledore made that arse Head Boy. He's not even on the Quidditch team."

"Neither was Percy," Harry said automatically. The encounter with Zabini had set off alarm bells in his brain, but he couldn't figure out why. What was he missing?

"And look how well that berk turned out," Ron muttered. "Come on, we'd better get up to the library before Hermione sends out search parties."

Harry trailed along after his friend, thinking furiously. He hated this feeling, as if there was a giant sign with the answer right in front of his face, but he couldn't focus on the letters.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked when Harry missed a step.

"Yeah," Harry said, shaking his head. "Just tired. I was up all night, and I didn't get a lot to eat yesterday. No big deal."

"You sure? You look pretty peaky."

"And you sound like your mum," Harry snapped, speeding up so he didn't have to talk to Ron anymore.

~*~

The girls were still hard at work in the library. Harry slid into a chair and picked up a huge book to avoid having to talk to anyone. After a while, the long night and longer day caught up with Harry, and his head nodded forward until it hit the desk. He immediately began to dream.

The dream was an odd one. He sat curled up in an armchair, watching a man lean back on the couch across from him, and was oddly content knowing the gun at the small of his back was fully loaded, one in the chamber.

"The police are letting me leave town, Anita," the man said.

Harry shrugged. "I didn't think they'd actually charge you for killing Olaf, Edward." His voice, high and female and very American, didn't waver. Brownie points for me, he found himself thinking.

Edward shifted on the couch, never taking his eyes off Harry's face. "Not after they found his complete record."

Edward closed his mouth, waiting. Harry wanted to sigh at the theatrics. "Stop the show, Edward. What the hell are you talking about?"

"There were a few missing gaps in several unsolved murder cases across the country," Edward replied promptly. "Missing fingerprints, those sorts of things. The information was replaced after Olaf was dead. It painted a very nasty picture."

Harry's contentment quickly leaked away. "Did you replace the information?" he asked, sitting up a little straighter.

Edward moved his head to the side, a silent no. "The people Olaf used to work for took care of it."

Harry shot to his feet and paced across Anita's living room, with its bare walls and new carpet. "That makes me feel so much better, thanks," he said sarcastically. "Was this what you came over to tell me?"

"No." Edward moved forward on the couch to pour himself another cup of coffee from the tray on the low table. "Tell me about Harry Potter."

Harry swung around. He considered pretending that he didn't know who Edward was talking about, but if Edward was asking, he probably knew something. "What about Harry?" There, turn things back on Edward.

"Why are all the monsters in this town, that blond werewolf at the Circus of the Damned for example, so convinced that the kid stopped Olaf? Did he have something to do with the dark shape near your head when I came through the door?" Edward was watching Harry a little too steadily. There was no emotion in the man, only cold curiosity. "Where did he go after he left your place and went back to England at the beginning of September?"

"You're asking a lot of questions," Harry said, crossing his arms under his breasts. His left hand still ached, just this side of a cramp, and he hated it.

"That's because I can't find a lot of answers," Edward said. He set down his cup and propped his feet up on the coffee table. "The boy's life isn't right."

Harry opened his mouth to speak, realized something, and closed his jaw with a snap. Edward was annoyed. He was pissed off that he hadn't been able to find out about Harry, and it was sticking in his craw. Working to keep the smile off his face, Harry said, "So you haven't been able to find out anything about him?"

Edward raised one eyebrow, his gaze boring into Harry. "No, Anita, I have found out a great deal about him, but there's more information missing than what I can find."

Harry shrugged. "I'm not sure what you want me to say, Edward."

Edward looked at Harry for a moment. "Harry Potter came into being on the first of November sixteen years ago, a fifteen-month baby boy registered with the England records department," he said. "When asked why he didn't have a birth certificate from before, his aunt, Petunia Dursley, was emphatic that her sister and the boy's mother was a member of a cult that didn't believe in the government, and the Dursleys had been saddled with the boy after her sister's untimely death."

"Did she really say that?" Harry asked. He knew how horrible the Dursleys had been to their nephew, but to say something like that when the boy was only a baby...

"Not officially. The late registration set off a few flags with the local social services office, and a social worker dropped in on the family a few times to see how they was faring. The reports are pretty basic. The boy was clothed, no visible injuries, appeared to be adequately fed. He was smaller than his cousin, the Dursleys' son, but Petunia Dursley claimed that was due to the boy's father's tiny stature and his unfortunate malnutrition as a baby."

Harry clenched his aching fist in the cloth of his shirt. He wanted to ask Edward if the social worker actually bought that drivel, but he didn't want to let the man know that he didn't know any of this. "Sounds like a full record to me," he said instead.

"It's a full record for ten years," Edward corrected. "School records, optometrist visits. No hospital visits, however. Everything is fine and proper until September of the year that Harry turned eleven."

"What happened then?"

"He disappeared into thin air." Edward watched Harry's face very closely. "No record of him at any European school, no travel records by air or international ferry, no medical records, nothing."

"Perhaps you couldn't find it?" Harry suggested.

"It wasn't there, Anita," Edward said, perfectly calm. "The information doesn't exist. Until the boy reappeared at the end of the school year, back in Surrey. The pattern of him vanishing for the school year and popping up again in the summer continued until this year."

"When he came here."

"When he came here," Edward said softly. "This is the part where things get interesting."

"Define interesting."

Edward's lips turned up in a smirk, and he pushed himself up off the couch. "You know as well as I do how often the kid's name started popping up in the Monster Squad's police records," he called over his shoulder as he walked into the kitchen, cup in hand.

Harry let out a tiny growl and followed. "It's RPIT, not the 'Monster Squad', and it wasn't as if Harry planned on any of this," he said. Nathaniel looked up from his shopping list as Harry came into the kitchen. Harry shook his head, and Nathaniel relaxed. "He was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"He's in town for three days, and he gets entangled in police preternatural business?" Edward shook his head. "Anita, the only people I've seen vanish this completely off the government radar are those ones who are working black ops, who have their records erased."

"Harry's only seventeen, he's not working in black ops," Harry said, going over to stand next to Nathaniel, pressing his side against the wereleopard in a long line.

"I know that," Edward said. He leaned against the counter, his change in demeanor the only indication that the conversation was about to shift. "I've started Peter on weapons training."

"You what?" Harry demanded. Peter Parnell was Edward's stepson; rather, the stepson of Ted Forrester, Edward's alter ego. "What the hell are you doing? He's not even eighteen yet, if Donna finds--"

"Donna knows what we're doing."

"The fuck she does!"

"Part of it at least." Edward looked pleased, as if Harry had done exactly what Edward wanted. "How old is Harry?"

The conversation was skipping around a little too fast. "What does that have to do with teaching Peter to use weapons?"

"They're the same age," Nathaniel said, hesitant as if he wasn't sure he wanted to involve himself in this conversation. "Edward's wondering why you're treating Harry different."

Edward just watched Harry's face.

"That is so not the point!" Harry exclaimed.

"A kid who can take out two magical attackers in a police station like he did, deserves a bit of attention," Edward said.

"In case you didn't read those reports closely enough, Edward, I got hurt in that little adventure," Harry snapped.

"And the boy didn't let that interfere in his work until he had eliminated the threat," Edward said, almost smiling. "An interesting reaction, for someone so young." He pushed up off the counter. "Since you're not going to tell me what's going on, Anita, I'm going to have to find out for myself."

"You haven't asked me anything!" Harry protested. "What could you possibly want to know about Harry?"

"I won't know until I find it out," Edward replied. He reached into his jacket, almost as if he was reaching for a gun. Harry pushed away from Nathaniel, hand automatically going to the gun at the small of his back. Edward froze, and so did Harry. "I'm not going to pull my weapon," Edward said.

"I know," Harry said, his hand wrapped around the handle of the Firestar, still in its holster in the back of his jeans. "If you were going to shoot me, it wouldn't be so obvious."

"So why are going for your gun?"

"It would be a hell of a thing to get wrong."

Slowly, Edward drew his hand out of his jacket, holding something paper between his fingers. "Becca drew this for you, and Donna FedExed it here," he said, tossing the paper onto the counter.

Heart pounding in his chest, Harry let go of the gun and picked up the paper. It was a home-made card, with glue and sparkles and "GET WELL ANITA" in big letters.

"Who's Becca?" Nathaniel asked.

"Edward's eight-year-old stepdaughter," Harry said. "Tell her thank you," he said to Edward.

"We'll finish this conversation later, Anita," Edward said, walking out of the kitchen. A few moments later, the front door slammed.

Nathaniel and Harry exchanged looks. "That was really weird," Nathaniel said, pressing his cheek against Harry's shoulder.

"Edward's always weird. When he stops being weird, start running." Harry set the card back on the counter before rubbing his temples. "Is it hot in here?"

"Not really. Do you want me to turn the heat down?"

Harry shook his head. "I feel a little bit strange."

Nathaniel leaned against Harry's back, wrapping his arms around Harry's waist. "The air went a little strange when Edward came in."

Harry went very still. "It did?"

Nathaniel nodded.

Harry stared out the kitchen window. The leaves in the backyard were starting to change colour, starting to die. A chill ran up Harry's spine. "I guess it did."

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" Nathaniel said against Harry's hair.

Harry tried to think back. "I think... when I saw Edward, I may have freaked out a little," he confessed. "Not a lot."

"I felt that," Nathaniel said. "Like you were being Nimir-Ra and calling to all the cats."

"Is that what it felt like? I didn't mean it like that," Harry said.

Nathaniel tightened his grip around Harry, burying his face in the crook of Harry's shoulder. "It felt really powerful and safe," he said, voice muffled. Nathaniel's breath sent delicious shivers over Harry's skin, and he pulled the young wereleopard closer to him. "You can do it whenever you want."

Harry sighed. "I wish I knew why Edward was so intent on finding all this stuff out about Harry."

"Harry? Oh, Harry, wake up!"

Harry sat upright before his eyes were even opened. "I'm awake," he mumbled, disoriented after being dragged out of his dream.

Hermione, who had been calling to him, gave him a skeptical look. "Your glasses are hanging off your ears," she said, pushing a large book toward Harry. "Here. Ron just brought over another load of books."

Blinking hard, Harry settled his glasses on his face, then opened the tome. It appeared to be written in gibberish.

A hand reached over Harry's shoulder and turned the book around, and the words came into focus. Harry glanced up. "Thanks, Luna."

She gave him a smile and laid her hand on his shoulder. He touched her fingers for a moment, then she went back to her seat beside Ginny.

Harry looked back at the book, not really seeing the words. He had been in another one Anita's dreams! Not a dream, though, more like he had dreamed of her life. He'd been her, doing what she was doing and thinking what she was thinking, like those other dreams when she'd been feeding the ardeur. But she hadn't been doing that this time... so why had the dream happened? Was it because of that power Nathaniel was talking about?

The importance of the mechanics behind the dream faded as Harry remembered what Edward had been asking. He wasn't really sure he wanted someone like Edward that interested in his life. What did it matter to the man if Harry had taken out a couple of Aurors, or where he was doing the school year? He wasn't an assassin like Edward.

Even though Edward was an ocean away, Harry couldn't shake the uneasiness.

"Harry?" Hermione asked quietly. "Can I ask you some questions about the Horcruxes?"

"Sure," Harry said, laying down his book. "I'll see if I can help."

to be continued....